Do you suppose, dear reader, that ’round February of last year, Batty’s wife reminded him that it was time to finally plan their estate? After which TB tiptoed 1/4″ away to craft this week’s arc while such terms as irrevocable trust still danced in his head?
Category: Son of Stuck Funky
Own a Pizza the Rock
Begging the syndicate’s pardon: we’ve long since ended the practice of embedding each day’s comic on this blog, but I’m invoking fair use to allow those viewing this on the desktop to savor today’s strip without getting a neck cramp.
Credit where it’s due: Funky has taken Holly’s suggestion, and we find The Unit sitting down with a probate lawyer to plan their estate. Unlike yesterday’s puzzling tree-planting “punchline,” the flurry of jokes exchanged here actually make comic sense and are funny; at least they were when they were first told back in the days of vaudeville. Holly can’t raise even a smirk, and pleads with her Maker for the sweet release of death.
Estate of the Unit
Wow! Hell of a Super Bowl, huh guys? Greetings, snarkers, and a tip of the SoSF coonskin to Beckoning Chasm for his fine stint. The flight back from Dallas has given Mrs. Kidneycyst, I mean Winkerbean, plenty of time to ponder mortality. They’ve not even put down their luggage when Holly brings up the contemporary issue affecting young adults that is estate planning. How’s that for setting the tone for a week of strips? Having stated his thesis, Batiuk has one panel left in which to lighten things with his trademark wordplay, but can only manage another of his patented, head-scratching punchlines. The Winkerbeans’ home is apparently pretty spacious, but I wouldn’t say they live on an estate. Or did Funky mishear “planning” as “planting”? Still makes no sense.
The Smoker You Drink, The Player You Get
Ah, now, there’s the Funky we all know and, uh, know. Completely certain of his inevitable decline and demise. And taking an entire Sunday to remind us.
Another dull Sunday strip with no entertainment value at all…not even a vague stab at a punchline. The only things I’m curious about are 1) What the Hell is Funky holding in panel two, and 2) the car in the penultimate panel. That looks a lot like Funky’s car. Are we to gather that, when they found the airport locked, Funky and Holly just said the Hell with it, and drove from Akron(ish) to Dallas? Because that’s an 18 hour trip of nearly 1200 miles.
18 hours in the car with Funky? I think a terminal diagnosis would be a relief.
And thus ends my time in the spotlight. Please welcome the return of Fearless Leader himself, Mr. TFHackett, starting tomorrow, which is already in progress!
Compare and Contrast
Just like yesterday, Funky actually comes up with some wordplay that’s kind of clever. It reflects on the “doctor” and “snapshot” ideas, and uses them both to play off their varying definitions.
And of course, he has to be excoriated for this offense against the holy wit of Les Moore.
Let’s compare: today, here’s Funky telling a joke, and here’s the reaction he gets.
People so disgusted they have to support their scowls with their hands. I mean, WOW, that’s pretty disgusted, right?
Yesterday, we had something similar. Funky tells a joke–
And gets this reaction for his troubles:
Yeah, Funky’s a jerk. I’m not going to argue that one. Whadaya think I am, stoopid? But let us cut a little closer, let’s move in to this strip’s guts.
Compare the last couple of days’ offerings to a strip of a couple of years ago. Here’s Les offering up his own version of wordplay. He was talking about hauling a typewriter onto Montoni’s roof to write his first failed book. (As if Les Moore is capable of that kind of manual labor–that’s a funny joke right there.)
Have you ever heard anything so utterly childish? Don’t tell me that Funky’s puns from the last couple of days suffer in comparison. Les’ kind of wordplay…that’s the sort of thing a three-year-old would say he’s grown out of. But here it’s presented as the height of hilarity.
Let’s take a closer look at the reaction Les gets. Is he called a jerk, and groaned at?
Oh hell no:
Of course, I’m not sure what can be expected from a strip that has a character who says this, in 2013:
Who then, over the course of a couple of years, matures to the point where he now says this, in 2016:
To quote Jack Nicholson, in Mars Attacks! (1996): “Yikes!”
Given what we have, in a strip like this, it’s apparently perfectly understandable that Les’ “roof draft” joke would get this reaction:
These two people have never heard anything so funny in their entire lives.
In fact, they’re–
Why, they’re almost–wait, what’s this? Oh my God, what the Hell–
“God help us, in the future!” (Criswell)
Son of Stuck Funky 