Son of Stuck Funky – Page 453 – Son of Stuck Funky

Hope Springs Eternal

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! May you look fondly upon the year to date, and may fortune smile on you in the coming months. And yes, that includes you, Tom Batiuk.

Have you ever watched a comedian start a bit, and it just sits there and dies? And instead of moving on to something else, the comedian just keeps going on with this bit, determined to persevere, and it just never gets funny, but more and more desperate? And the audience goes from unamused to slightly hostile, and then gradually starts feeling embarrassed for the guy, and finally goes straight into concern for his well-being?

Yeah, that’s what I’m seeing this week. None of this has been funny by even the most generous measurement, and throwing in terrible semi-puns just makes it more and more cringe-worthy.

I can kind of see the process here–“What would be funny for band members to sell?” And Tom Batiuk thought “Mattresses, of course.” And I’m sure someone–possibly–could make that into a funny week or so. But there’s that problematic word again–“funny.” Coming up with a funny premise is just step one–step two is to turn that premise into a funny joke. Otherwise you’re stuck with a bit that never gets funny and makes your audience feel embarrassed for you.

That might, might get that comedian some sympathy the first time around. But if he persists with that bit, thinking that sympathy is enough, he’s going to find his second audience consists of a few sleeping drunks, an irate bartender, and a scowling janitor anxious to start cleaning up.

There won’t be a third audience.

PS: If the “springs” bit is supposed to be a pun, I don’t think it works. I may be mistaken, but mattresses don’t have springs, it’s the box springs beneath the mattress that are loaded with springs. But I’ll admit I’ve taken a leaf from the Batiuk Book and not researched the Hell out of this.

Careering and Caroming

Link to today’s strip.

I guess the joke, if that is the correct term, is that Thatsnought never thought being a musician would entail heavy lifting.

It’s quite possible that, in the myriad of universes parallel to our own, this joke is considered quite a knee-slapper.

In this universe…not so much.

It strikes me that there’s someone who might start to rethink a career in cartooning.

Everybody Had Matching Towels

Link to today’s strip.

Wow, it looks like Bernie and Thatsnought are determined to make this sale! In the second panel, it appears they are physically forcing the mattress against that lady, shoving her back into her own home! “Buy this mattress or we will kill you with it!” Wow, that eleven dollars is as good as theirs!

Many folks have pointed out the idiocy of this arc–you don’t lug the damned mattresses around, the same way you don’t carry around turkeys that are becoming dangerous by the minute as they thaw and incubate. No, you show pictures to folks and take orders, then you order the stock, and then you deliver the orders. But that’s not the way things work in the Batiukverse.

Okay, fine, comic strip rules are not the same as real-world rules. But here’s my question, specifically about what we’re seeing here, with Bernie and Thatsnought shilling a mattress.

What happens if they sell it? Are they done for the day, or do they have to go back and get another mattress, come back and start again at the next house on this street? Is there a flatbed truck just out of sight that has a dozen or so more mattresses for them? Has this arc been poorly thought out?

Uh, I mean um *cough*

Well, I’m sure there are at least half a dozen people saying, “Hey, you wanted him to do more funny strips and he’s doing them! There are jokes! You people are ungrateful and should be thanking him!” Well, okay, but honestly, this strip doesn’t give me much to be thankful for. The problem is, as far as “funny,” that ship has sailed many years ago. Tom Batiuk has no idea how to be funny.

And if you’re not going to be funny, at least get the logistics right.

November 20, 2017

Link to today’s strip.

Greetings, all, BChasm back again for a spin on the Devil’s Tricycle. First of all, shout out to Comic Book Harriet, whose hosting last week was outstanding. Great insight and great humor–two things Tom Batiuk wishes he still had.

Today’s strip was not available for preview, but if I’ve learned anything, it’s that Tom Batiuk’s ability to generate boring and uninvolving content easily beats my ability to predict what will appear. What will we get? More Lisa auction? Les on his book tour? Bull reliving his high school football career? Funky’s failing health? Why, it’s like some kind of monstrous game show, where the only prizes are terrible! IT’S A TORTURE DEVICE FOR THE MODERN AGE!

(Felt tip to Red Letter Media, from which much of the above was stolen.)

Schizo-snoozo-phasia.

Comic Book Harriet here, wanting to say it’s been an awesome week to cut my teeth on guest writing. Thanks for all the laughs and comments. I toss the reins into the very capable Beckoning Chasm, whose vast echoey goodness will see us through whatever hijinks are to come.

But before that. I have to make sense of…of…whatever this strip means.

Guys. I think Becky has kind of lost it. I mean Band Turkeys was always kind of a wacky idea. But it made a certain amount of sense. Most people eat eat, and thus buy, turkeys around the holidays. If a school has a tradition of selling Band Turkeys as a fundraiser, then people will anticipate it and buy their turkeys from the band. They were going to have to buy a turkey after all… and now they won’t have to feel guilty for turning down horrible dextrose based band sweets that have to have every word spelled wrong for legal reasons. I’ll take a marginal mark-up on a frozen brick of bird meat over something called Chocklatey Kandy Shugar Knuggets.

But mattresses? Why? I mean, the shipping alone has to be a fortune! And people don’t use a mattress up every year. I spent 20 years sleeping on a mattress as old as my parents… Are these disposable holiday mattresses for people who shopped and ate too much? Will they be burned on New Year’s even in a huge toxic bonfire of latex foam and polyfill? I can see the teetering mountain of blackened rusting springs looming over the Westview landfill for years.

What I’m saying is that a good use for those mattresses would be to build a padded cell for Becky. Heck it looks like you could build an entire padded maze. That would keep her occupied for days. Long enough to get a judge to sign papers to have her committed.