The panel borders of today’s strip are just holding it, just enough to keep it from —
It burst into the frame! Get out of the way! Get out of the way!
Get this Funky! Get this Funky! It’s boring and it’s crashing! It’s crashing terrible! Oh my, get out of the way please. It’s boring, bursting into the frame and it’s — and it’s falling on the boring cast and all the folks agree that this is terrible. This is one of the worst catastrophes in the world.
And oh, it’s…boring, oh, four or five segments into the strip. It’s a terrific crash, ladies and gentlemen. The smirks and the lameness now and the text is crashing into the foreheads, not quite to the boring cast. Oh, the humanity and all the characters smirking around here. I told you. It’s — I can’t even type to the readers whose snark we host here. It – It’s….I — I can’t type ladies and gentlemen.
Honest, it’s completely a mass of smirking dreck. And everybody can’t hardly read it. It’s hard, it’s crazy. Folks, I — I — I’m sorry. Honestly, I — I can hardly read it.
I — I’m gonna step away where I cannot see it. Funky, that’s terrible. I – I can’t….Listen folks, I — I’m gonna have to stop for a minute because I’ve lost my head. This is the worst thing I’ve ever witnessed.
With sincerest apologies to Herb Morrison and humanity… and Count Ferdinand von Zeppelin (who TB should also apologize to).
Son of Stuck Funky 
That must be some word zeppelin today! (Still waiting for the new strip to drop.)
The crash was so enormous that it knocked the link out of whack.
(It sounds better than saying I screwed up the link, which is of course what really happened)
I honestly thought that the people hosting the comic was so dismayed they couldn’t post it themselves. Did not even think you screwed up the link.
Your analogy is a thing of beauty, inspired by such a raging pile of dreck.
You’re packing up a pizza now? It’s nighttime (I think.) It can’t go anywhere until UPS opens in the morning.
UPS? Uneatable Pizza Service?
WordPress “Link is not working.” Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Fixed!
Ah Damn it! Damn it to hell!
“You didn’t blow it up! Ah, damn you! God damn you all to hell!”
I should have seen it coming. This ending couldn’t possibly be any more Batiukian. I figured this would a big huge heart attack of an arc that would go on for months and months and generate all kinds of highly-charged snark, but instead it was just minor constipation that passed without incident a few days later. Adeela, with an exceedingly rare shit-eating grin plastered across her nearly-deported face, is back at Montoni’s and already cracking wry about wanting to go on desk duty for a while, which is totally a real pizzeria job. And Funky (wink, wink, nudge nudge) is definitely sending his pal Bill a Montoni’s pepperoni special on the house, as we all know Clinton (wink, wink, nudge nudge) loves himself some junk food. Hilarious.
Should have seen it coming but, as always, I just can’t slow my various brain functions down enough to properly speculate on these zapped-out stories of his. I always…ALWAYS…give him way, way, way too much credit. Not on purpose, mind you, as I’m well aware that the stories will always take the absolute stupidest possible path, but he out-stupids me every single time, often by a considerable margin too. If there was a stupid race Batiuk would be moon-walking across the finish line while the rest of us were still trying to figure out how to clear the first hurdle. I stand in line.
“This ending couldn’t possibly be any more Batiukian.”
Sure it could – they could have had her halfway to Iraq, or even just about to land, when they got the message: “Turn around! Former President Clinton says that some pizzeria owner in Ohio claims you’ve got the wrong woman, and that’s good enough for us!”
Funny how Adeela doesn’t care about the other Muslims on that flight. Maybe they were Sunni and she is Shia.
Adeela is in a wonderful mood for somebody who was just arrested in an ambush, held by people who refused to verify her identity, loaded on a plane and almost flown back to Blowntohellistan. “Don’t worry, my PTSD helped me deal with the horror of it all!”
Oh yeah. You know, I forgot all about Adeela’s PTSD. I guess it comes and goes, as they say.
If only Buddy the Magic PTSD Dog were a bloodhound! He could find it and bring it home. Too bad he’s lost himself.
Nope, not a thing else to be said. What we’ve learned is aside from Bathak have zero clue on how the real world works, is that no one matters aside from who Funky and friends deem worthy. Then we can break the laws of reality and physics in order to circle jerk on their awesomeness. Sunday better be this was all just a dream, it would literally be the only thing that would make sense.
“that no one matters aside from who Funky and friends deem worthy.”
Yeah. This arc and the LA fire arc have really driven this fact home.
I live in the Bay Area, when the fires were raging and he was writing that drek I wanted to strangle him.
“That reminds me…I’ve got to get the Clintons’ order packed! Hey, Adeela, what did you do with the insulated bag?”
Oh, the inhumanity! This has to be the most anti-climactic event of 2020 since those photos of Rudy Giuliani “adjusting his shirt” on the bed.
Seriously, what was the point of the past month or so? An epic graphic Jeremiad against the current administration’s immigration policies? A 21st-century “To Kill a Mockingbird,” with looks at the flaws in our legal system and the blight of systemic racism? A suspenseful thrill ride where we readers fear for a beloved character’s future?
Of course not. Those things would take someone skilling at plotting, dialogue, characterization, and, of course, Battyuk’s Achilles heel…PACING. A languorous murder mystery in old Hollywood is abruptly solved by tossing in a talking chimp, while a California wildfire deathtrap is abruptly avoided by (ironically) a dream visit to a futuristic realm from old Hollywood. Tom has never met a dramatic fuse that he couldn’t light, spend weeks blowing on to keep it burning, and then suddenly piddle on it while yelling to his audience, “Boy, wasn’t THAT exciting! Now, let’s look in on popular author Les Moore…”
So, we’re just left to assume that people in the Trump-run Department of Homeland Security were instantly swayed by a phone call from the husband of the president’s last electoral opponent. Sure, okay, whatever you say, Tom. I guess that makes perfect logical sense.
As far as the actual art of today’s strip, I have to say I love the continued beaming visage of one Mr. Amicus Breef, Esq., who doesn’t know Adeela, never apparently spoke to her or anyone in a court or served his sure-to-overpower subpoena, and yet there he is, celebrating with the Montoni’s crew over everything he “accomplished.” Kudos, Amicus; you came in for a cheap name wordplay gag that had been done years earlier and you’re leaving a footnote in a totally forgettable story. Somewhere Atticus Finch is smiling.
Oh, yeah, Amicus had a quick detention center confab with Adeela. My bad.
Oh, the inanity!
This storyline is literal trash. I’m pretty sure Batty and I are on the same side of this politically, but my god – from conception to delivery – there is no goddamn story! This is just jibberish!
Oh, fuck you, Adeela. Seriously, I hate you so much right now. Tell me, how did the other 80 deportees feel, watching you got rescued by shitty writing while they all got a one-way ticket to Baghdad? Those faces should haunt you for the rest of your life. But they won’t, because you’re as shallow and selfish as everyone else in Westview. You can’t even muster an ounce of survivor’s guilt. Fuck you, fuck all these smug-ass faces congratulating themselves when they didn’t do jack shit, and why the fuck is Amicus Brief still here? And oh look, Montoni’s got name-dropped two more times. That’s 46 times in 6 weeks. And Funky is loudly reminding himself OH I HAVE TO GET THE CLINTONS’ ORDER TOGETHER BECAUSE THE CLINTON FAMILY TOTALLY EATS OUR FOOD PLEASE NOTICE HOW IMPORTANT MONTONI’S PIZZA IS LOOK AT ME LOOK AT ME LOOK AT ME. Even though one of the Clintons actively rejected your pizza in your own made-up story! God, I hate this world so much.
Yeah, I knew he would cap on a quickie sham of an ending which conveniently let us forget about the other 3299 potential “Adeela’s” still at the detention center… The same way Los Angeles just had their biggest wildfire on record and yet apparently nobody got hurt or killed, lol
The Clintons, is there anything they cannot do?
All it took was pizza.
Neat.
Yes, they cannot remember to pay attention to the “Rust Belt” states during a close presidential campaign.
There’s guy at Comics Kingdom who votes down all the snark, and I gotta say I wouldn’t fuck Adeela with his dick.
Bluejeans 46 is one of Batty’s pals from Kent State. Whenever Batty says on his blog that a reader asked about this and that, the reader is Bluejeans.
I mean come on, nobody reads this strip.
And Amicus is still sitting there like a useless idiot.
A useless idiot who is about to get paid for being less than useless. Hence the smirk.
Adeela’s going to curtail her pizza deliveries? What good does that do? Are needlessly elaborate ICE stings the only time pizzas ordered in Westview?
Oh, yeah probably. Carry on then.
She will be the new counter-wipe. You don’t get tips, but the work is easy.
Because once again, in Westview all honest to goodness accomplishments are met with punishment.
Your Hindenburg parody reminded me of another one with Ohio connections. “The turkeys are hitting the ground like sacks of wet cement!”
“Thanks for that on the spot report. Les.”
Billy the Skink, always going above and beyond to make an amusing mountain out of a molehill dud of a plot, and then turning that mountain into a beautiful volcano erupting all over this crappy storyline. A master at keeping us entertained as we collectively work through the seething rage.
Haiku of the Day:
Best to let her go.
She has friends in high places.
Or, her pizza does.
Alternatively:
What software began,
An empty fantasy stopped.
Mindless at both ends.
Just one more:
She thinks it’s over?
Wait until the news gets wind.
Soon: “ADEELA-GATE”
S
H
I
T
So where’s the fucking car and the fucking heat bag? Where the fuck is Corky, and why isn’t he wiping down the fucking counter?
The level of magical thinking displayed in this arc is incredible. TomBa would have us believe that:
1. Based on a random telephone call from someone he met almost 30 (or possibly 40 if we count the time jump) years ago, Bill Clinton would make a telephone call to the director of ICE.
2. That that single telephone call would be sufficient to halt the deportation and effectuate the release from custody of someone Clinton knows nothing about.
A seven year old wouldn’t produce a plot that divorced from reality.
3. That either:
A: Funky and crew sat around moping in Montoni’s for close to 24 hours, without bothering to open for business, or
B: Adeela was released the same night she was captured, based on a phone call that Clinton made the following day. He’s phoning backwards in time!
“A seven year old wouldn’t produce a plot that divorced from reality.”
Yes, but he/she would have figured out how stupid it was in the first two minutes and gone on to something else.
That’s Dead Skunkhead John in the banner, which I hope means this arc is coming to an end this week. Or does he look so shocked because Bill Clinton is going to show up and discuss comic books? (I’d say “girls,” but what can DSJ say about them? “You got impeached over a woman? I coulda told you they’re nothing but trouble!”)
What the fuck is this, a reenactment of the Last Supper? Why would Adilly curtail her deliveries? It’s not like every delivery order is from ICE.
That’s one leaden word Zeppelin today. Smirks aweigh!
Eff this strip. No public figure(s) deserve this. And what does this and so many other storylines say about the author’s worldview of justice and fair play?
He lives in a comic book like fantasy land where money is always evil ( except when he is collecting his kill fee), and Lisa is always a saint. And if the strip’s history doesn’t justify his current fantasy, then he simply retcons it out.
If you want more fantasy, check out his blog, he has the original Clinton strips there,because, as he says “ Who can say no to a band director?”
Never heard that phrase before, and I was in band. But I do know that that little bit of a$$ kissery earned him another free pass to the OMEA convention next February.
Well, on the plus side, I don’t think today’s strip will ever inspire a classic album cover.
Horrible, yes, but thank goodness Les is not involved.
Always look on the bright side of life!
Les? GIVE US BARABBAS!
Fuck fucking Tom Batiuk fucking right in his right fucking ear. Fuck. (Sorry for the profanity, but DAMN!)
All I can see in my mind’s eye is Tika (Queen of Murania), Zanzibar (Magic Drunken Murder Chimp), and Hilary (Melting-Face Horror, Former US Secretary of State) sitting together at a booth just off-panel, making faces at the Funky Crew.
Everyone who already commented with something to the effect of “Adeela shouldn’t be so freaking happy right now” is absolutely right. (Ditto for Rachel, but for different reasons.)
I am fortunate in that I have never had to drag an attorney out of bed late at night for any reason, but I do know that they charge a lot of money for their services during normal business hours… So maybe that’s why Amicus is smiling, despite not knowing any of these people and despite doing nothing except proving that he doesn’t seem to know what a subpoena is.
I’m going to guess that Cory passed out on furniture polish fumes and is sleeping it off under the counter. Rocky is driving up and down the streets on her bicycle, searching desperately for that delivery car and that insulated bag. Which of course leaves Buddy as the only employee doing any work in the kitchen. (And now you know why nobody ever forgets a Montoni’s pizza.)
What the fuck is with Holleeee’s gaze at Adilly? She looks like she’s gonna dive into some finger pie!
What about poor Amicus Breef? He did all this work and then they don’t even need him because they have famous friends. Amicus will be lucky to even get paid! Soon he will be out of work and over at Montonis trying to bum a slice of pizza. Nobody appreciates lawyers!