I’m pretty sure a sales fundraiser in which you wind up with a garage full of unsold merch is kind of a bust, no? What exactly is Classic Dinkle’s plan here in panel 1? Even if a polar vortex were to descend on Westview tonight, and linger through Christmas and New Year’s, no poultry (especially organic) would still remain edible. Those “Sam ‘n’ Ella’s” turkeys would soon be living up to their name. If “next year” means “next Thanksgiving,” then the premise becomes even more absurd.
Park Your Carcass(es)
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Another arc where you can actually see him lose interest before it’s finished. I know the feeling well. Dinkle “retired” like a hundred years ago, so why is he still marveling about it?
Aside from the stupidity of storing band turkeys for an entire year (would they remain edible after a full year on ice?) what’s with the tiny garage and narrow sidewalk? It’s like Batiuk is scared to think big about anything, whether it’s the humongously, successful Starbuck Jones franchise, the customer who we never see swarming Montoni’s, or the doors that should be big enough to let Les Moore’s ego pass.
Or maybe Ayers couldn’t be bothered to draw a full-sized garage, which would mean drawing and labelling even more boxes.* That could be it. It’s not like Batiuk is ever going to look at this strip, so he could get away with it. Hey, maybe some day Ayers will get fed up and put Groucho glasses on all the characters.**
*BTW, are real-world band turkeys sold in boxes?
**Or has he already done that with Les Moore?
Damn, that is a narrow sidewalk. Single file!
Scrawny as I am, I’d still have to walk sideways on it, especially to get around that shoulder-height lamp.
One day, my parents bought a frozen turkey at the grocery store. They accidentally left it in the trunk overnight, on a hot day.
We had to sell the car.
I’m serious. It was that bad. For ONE unrefrigerated turkey.
By any sort of logical standard, wouldn’t Dinkleberg’s garage have the largest number of turkeys filling it in the weeks leading up to Thanksgiving, and then (assuming his minions did their job) there’d be room to park after T-Day? But then, nothing about this–from storage requirements to temperature to how close that car is parked to the door–has anything to do with logic. So, one more day of poultry shenanigans, then back to the production of “Lisa’s Story: The Motionless Picture” next week? Or maybe we get to see someone used the accessibility ramp in front of Montoni’s?
Retirement = parking your car in the garage the day after Thanksgiving
Retirement also = returning to your former place of employment as often as possible
Dinkle logic isn’t even mildly amusing as an oxymoron.
Yesterday, newagepalimpsest asked:
maaaaybe tomorrow’s strip will be something like “… and the Food Bank sure was happy when we donated the turkey that we can’t have because Harryina’s husband is allergic to turkey.”
Nope! They sit in Dinkle’s garage and go to waste. The man’s got enough turkeys to find all the homeless people in Cleveland, but can’t be bothered to pick up the phone and call someone to donate them to. His family doesn’t even eat one of them, because Harry doesn’t like turkey. Then he complains about how they get in the way. What an asshole.
Imagine all of the starving band children.
“Sir, could we perhaps have a single turkey before they spoil in the noonday sun? My mom says she can pay with a money order…”
Now we know what happened to the pizza delivery car.
This could be funny if it was a swipe at Dinkle’s ego, but alas, that’s not Batiuk’s way. Dinkle was so sure that he’d be able to sell a thousand turkeys that he ordered them in anticipation of his inevitable triumph, and he ended up selling… six. But he’s so delusional that he’s not even humbled by such a thing. The following year he orders two thousand, so sure he is that he’ll do it this time! And he sells thirteen! And he’s ecstatic that his optimism was rewarded when he did better than the previous year.
And then we find out that the only reason why he did proportionately better the second year was that he extorted someone to buy that last turkey to put him over the top, and the cops pinch him for it.
And it’s the same thing every damn year. You’d think Dinkle’s propensity for accumulating unsold merchandise would eventually cause problems at work and home. The school system would have had to eat the wholesale cost of all those unsold turkeys. And Mrs. Dinkle wouldn’t appreciate her garage being turned into a food-borne diseases lab every winter. But Dinkle is still a “good” character, so he never gets called out on any of his atrocious behavior.