I was sure Batiuk felt he’d wrung every last molecule out of this motor vehicle story arc. But against Fat Les’ advice, Funky has indeed driven all the way home and back (can you believe Fat Les was enough of a sport not to alert the cops?) and returned with…a copy of his birth certificiate? Why would he not return with the original document? A business owner, Chamber of Commerce prexy, and, well, grown ass man doesn’t know that for most purposes, a Xeroxed birth certificate is worthless?
Category: Son of Stuck Funky
License to Ill
Dealing with Batiuk’s Bureau of Motor Vehicles is not merely frustrating time-consuming…it’s a never-ending, Kafkaesque ordeal from which there is no escape! The death stare that Funky lays on BMV Guy in panel 2 is not bad, but this zany week calls for a much more slapstick “take” in the style of, say, R. Crumb:
He Not Busy Being Born
Trying to get a driver’s license under an assumed name is no joke these days. If Fat Les really thinks that’s what’s going on here, he should calmly ask “Funky Winkerbean” to wait right here please and then summon the authorities. And assuming Funky’s got his expired license with him, he doesn’t need to produce his birth certificate or anything else beside the $25.75 renewal fee. This is just payback to Funky for busting BMV Guy’s chops. And it’s working: instead of another wry retort, all Funky can muster is sputtering, Crankshaft-like indignation.
Under Your Spell
spacemanspiff85
February 14, 2017 at 10:45 pm
He has his ID right there. Why is he asking how to spell his name?
Dang, Spiff, wish I’d thought of that! Unlike the probate lawyer we met last week, “BMV guy” is not having any of “funny guy” Funky’s witty repartee. In fact, things start to get chippy. It’s pretty poor customer service to resort to personal insults, but at least have it make sense. Would an unconventional spelling make Funky’s name any less “unfortunate”?
In another case of Batiuk Perhaps Inadvertently Gets Something Right: I don’t know about Ohio’s BMV, but in the New Jersey DMV offices that I’ve visited, the walls are painted that exact shade of sickly, early 90’s “Dusty Rose” mauve.
Take T…H…A…
Today we observe that rarest of instances in the Funkiverse: our hero, subjected to the withering disdain of a functionary of the state, gains the upper hand by delivering a well-timed, snarky zinger of his own. Funky knows it, too; dig his expression in panel 3: the arched eyebrow and the entirely appropriate sardonic smirk.
I’m going to let this one pass. Feel free, the rest of you, to have at it.
Son of Stuck Funky 
