Category: Son of Stuck Funky

Great Googly Gazing Galileo (not Finito Binito)

Tuesday’s strip continues with the worst pickup artist. It also drops the actual name of an actual television network. Can the cease-and-desist letter addressed to Medina, OH be far behind?

Today’s affront to continuity supersedes yesterday’s affront to proportion, as the glassware inexplicably changes to a normal size. Either that, or the 60-minute interval of miniaturization effect has expired.

As Cindy’s comma eyes glance sidelong at “Gazing Galileo”—a phrase I’ve never before encountered in any context—I’m grateful that, for a change, Batominc didn’t misspell the name of a historical Italian.

You know what bartenders love? When you wave a payment method at them. In a dead-quiet bar. Maybe next time Cindy should wave a fan of crumpled singles and yell: “Yo! Barkeep!” Because that’s how “savvy dames” behave. Although maybe Batominc categorizes Cindy as hardbitten rather than savvy. It’s not easy for me to crawl into his weird conception of women.

On the plus side, this week’s action has been taking place in a bar. I like bars and what bars are selling.

The Good, the Tiny, and the Sleazy

A new scene abruptly flash-cuts into view, as last week’s Starbuck Jones arc is abandoned once again. A bar, much too nice to be in Westview, and much too soulless to be anything but a hotel bar. I have to hand it to Batominc: he has mastered soullessness. And vast expanses of squiggly lines.

But of course, proportions always go haywire. Witness panel 3, where pint glasses look more like salt & pepper shakers, Cindy nurses a stemware shot glass of wine, and Smirky McSleazy’s old-fashioned glass also seems to have been provisioned by the CMDF.

And the dialogue—oh my!—the dialogue makes me want to invent a time machine so I can go back and dissuade the inventor of narrative fiction. Let’s see if we can make improvements.

First draft

Smirky McSleazy: Nice shoes. Wanna boink?

Second draft

Smirky McSleazy: Are you an interior decorator? Because when you entered the room, it became more beautiful.

Third draft

Smirky McSleazy: Did you bathe in sugar? Because you sure look sweet.

Nope. Going nowhere. I’ll be in the lab, working on that time machine. We’ll be better off without literature.

Jones-o-Care

Sunday’s strip was not immediately available, so have at it, early snarkers!

Update: Oh look, a health-care joke. I can think of several Westviewites and a Medinoid I’d like to launch into the Sun.

Today’s Starbuck Jones faux cover tips its funky felt tip to Norm Breyfogle, so feast your eyes on this pastiche from Batominc. Or, you know, look at the real thing.

Update 2: Erich reminds us that it’s no pastiche.

Holly’s High Esteem

Now Batominc demonstrates what a skilled artist with a year’s lead time can do with a topical storyline. It does that by counterexample, mind you. Is it impressive the way Batominc avoided every salient feature of real Iraqi Freedom jackets?

And what an unexpected plot twist! Nick the Geek Who Looks Like a Tough Biker is an Army vet! Whoa!

Based on the Punisher skull motif, I guessed that Nick the Geek’s comic book store is based on Canton’s Bill’s Books and More, and @bobanero has noted the existence of a Black Hole Comics in Columbus. That store, though, does not seem to feature a Punisher emblem.

The best aspect of this strip, though, is Holly’s unwarranted esteem for her own negotiating skills. It would be even better if she were to imagine herself rounding the bases of a weirdly tiny baseball diamond.

Dastard to Detain Drug City Discount?

“What do you want, Geek? Credits?” our current strip seems to ask, as if Holly were some alternate, Klingon-like version of our rotund Winkerspouse.

Later, at home, Nick the Geek will hold up Holly’s Drug City discount card, and muse to his wife: “Can you imagine that? She offered this to me as if it was really worth something. Poor old gal.”

His wife will recall vaguely that such cards were worth something once, long ago, in the before time. “Sure,” Nick will reply, “about a hundred years or so ago, before they passed the Affordable Life Amendment,” and will toss the plastic card into the fuel cell.

On the plus side, Starbuck Jones dies in the first panel.