…it was just Cindy after all.
So it took two days for Bathack to segue from Westview to California, and this insipid, saccharine exchange in service to Cindyt’s vanity is no doubt T-Bat’s way of kicking off yet another Starsuck Jones arc.
“Promise me you’ll never get old!”
“Only if you promise the same!”
“I CAN NOT AGE, FOR I AM THE GATEKEEPER FOR THE MIGHTY GOZER! BRING FORWARD ANOTHER CHILD THAT I MAY SLAKE MY BURNING THIRST FOR THE BLOOD OF THE INNOCENT”
Watch your back, Skyler.
Don’t forget to check in again tomorrow for more delicious Funky Winkerbean snark brought to you by beckoningchasm!
Is it possible that today’s strip is the last we’ll see of Bull and/or Bull’s retirement ceremony? Who knows? T-Bats stretched a three-panel story about Durwood running out of pens into two solid weeks of shitposting, so anything is possible.
Once again, though, we’re shown that Bull really is a solid dude, having established (with Linda’s help) an equipment fund that will provide future Scapegoats with state-of-the-art noggin armor. I swear, Tom never builds up a non-Les character like this unless he’s setting him up for a fall. The suspense is killing me! Or would be killing me, if I really cared about this half-rate storyline.
And someone help me out here…who dat in Panel Three, basking in the sunshine far from the Ohio night? It’s not Jinx – she had straight black hair, as befits her stereotypical ethnicity. Could it be Crazy Harry’s daughter Maddie? Has any other FW girl worn a billed cap? If it’s Maddie, why isn’t her hair red anymore?
Finally! Today, we finally get back to the actual subject of this arc, with Bull making a self-depreciating joke about the anticipated trajectory of his condition. I have to admit that, having watched family members struggle and fade with memory loss and dementia, I found Bull’s comment bittersweet (especially since I kind of liked him – probably the only time you’ll hear me say that about an FW character who isn’t Buddy.)
And then…in Panel Two…is that…Ann Fairgood? Why, we haven’t seen her in awhile. Say, she’s got a pretty talented hair stylist, huh? Four years ago her hair was mousy brown, and then for a while it turned white (probably from having to change Fred’s diapers four times a day) and today it’s Cindy Blonde. Good thing T-Bats knows how to indicate “old age” by adding a few crows feet around the eyes and putting in that line on the neck. Guess those art lessons really paid off. Wonder where Fred is? Probably handcuffed into bed with duct tape over his mouth since Ann’s been retconned into being a spousal abuser.
Jinx is still a no-show. Wonder if T-Bats even remembers that Bull and Linda had an adopted daughter?
So today’s strip remains centered on Les’ comments from the bleachers, and the banality can not be broken by Funky’s lame-ass joke. It got me thinking about how much better FW could be with just a few little tweaks. You know, like making it funny again, or dumping that stupid Starbuck Jones crap, or something really simple like getting rid of Les. I really wish T-Bats used social media; it would be awesome if the #LessLes hashtag went viral and gave him a rage-aneurism.
[Edit: Changed link from nj.com to sfgate.com because of problems loading the strip from nj.com]
What have we here?
Country Music Television?
Canine Mammary Tumor?
Congenitally Missing Teeth?
Cervical Motion Tenderness?
Chronic Multiple Tics?
Thanks, Tom, but Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy already has a perfectly good acronym. High five for getting the “C” right, though.
Congratulations to Holly and her Pokemon Go adventure. You can see by the picture she’s caught (left to right) a Jynx, a Weedle, and a Snorlax.
[Edit] As reader Erich noted, someone at Comics Kingdom managed to spot Tom’s goof and take care of it before the strip actually went live. I’m leaving my original post as it stands, though.
Link to today’s dribble.
Yes, Les, you insufferable, condescending douche. It’s true: All through high school, you were beaten up by someone named Jerome. And since you seem to have forgotten, you were also occasionally protected by someone named Jerome, apologized to by someone named Jerome, helped train for your Kilimanjaro excursion by someone named Jerome, played tennis regularly with someone named Jerome, and let’s not forget how that Jerome asshole provided Summer with extensive and free physical therapy after she blew out her knee playing basketball.
For chrissake, Les and his meatworld counterpart T-Bats have been out of high school for more than thirty five years. You’d think they’d have grown out of making fun of people’s names by now.
First off, ladies and gentlemen, let’s have a big round of applause for the late Paul Winfield, appearing in today’s strip in the roll of
game show host Principal Green.
Now let’s talk about this stadium stuff. Talk about a kick in the head (ha ha, no pun intended) to Bull. They’re kind of naming the stadium after him, but not really, since they also have a corporate sponsor who is presumably paying for stadium naming rights. So…thanks, Bull, for those three championships your teams managed to win despite sucking at football, but it wasn’t quite good enough. Sorry.
Oh, and Tom? A & L Automotive? I’m giving you points not only for making an asshole pun, but also for getting it past the censors at King Features. If you’re ever in New Haven, look me up and I’ll treat you to a REAL pizza and not one of those Ohio shit pies.
…starts today, as Westview High School’s CCTV news program announces Bull’s retirement to the student body. I don’t know what to call it anymore, though, because apparently either Tom or his Sunday Artist Intern is spelling the title “The Bleet” nowadays. So, what do you think? Is T-Bats slipping in mistakes like this intentionally to screw around with the snark community, or is he just going a little soft in the noggin?
Since we’re talking about The Bleat/Bleet, say hello to Bernie Silver who seems to have inherited the anchor’s chair from Owen. And since he reports that the official retirement sendoff will be on Friday, we can probably expect the entirety of next week to depict =- or at least talk about – said ceremony.
So, we’ve got Bull’s retirement, a new anchor, and a stupid typo. Other than that, this is pretty much your typical mediocre Sunday throw-away, just like last week with Funky’s leafy hairline. I can’t help thinking, though, that Tom is setting Bull up for a fall. Look at Les in panel three. That filthy, squint-eyed, lifted-eyebrow smirk. He knows something, that smug fuccboi. I’m starting to hate Dick Facey as much as Epicus Doomus does.
I admit it, I’ve always kind of liked Bull. How can you hate a guy who has a history of kicking Les’ ass? But beyond that, he’s always been the kind of “guy next door” that I might have been friends with…not too smart, but good at what he does; takes a joke pretty well; doesn’t carry a grudge or live in the past; owns up to his mistakes and takes the consequences. And today, faced with a pretty grim diagnosis, he says “the hell with it” and decides to retire and enjoy himself while there’s still a “self” inside that damaged skull.
Best wishes, Bull. Hope it works out for you…even though I suspect your creator is going to eventually pull the rug out from under you.
Today, Bull learns that there is nothing modern medical science can do about his Classic CTE except…I dunno, some unspecified “things.” And although Bull can’t count the number of concussions he’s suffered, someone should tell him there’s still time to share a few more with Les. Just for old times’ sake.