Either it’s still sinking in for Becky, or Batiuk doesn’t trust the reader to recall that yesterday Roberta stated that yes, she’s going to be a Band Mom (again). Or “more like a band grand mom”, since Wally Jr. is now in the elementary school band. This despite the fact that by my reckoning, Wally Jr. should be at least fourteen years old.
Return of Momzilla
Westviewvians acknowledge the arrival of one another not with a friendly “Hello” but “What is he/she doing here?” Although surely we can forgive Becky for being less than overjoyed at seeing her mom. Dad’s there too, of course, with the camcorder, and silent, having spoken his two word quota for this decade. Roberta portrays the prom as a “fiasco” (we agree) and spins her banishment as having been “invited off” the committee. Now she looks for something else to destroy besides her “little girl’s” life. In panel 2, Becky struggles in vain to choke Mom with her phantom left hand.
TMFI
Good Lord. Was there not some other subtle, clever, dare I say humorous way to make this point? Dead Skunk Head John is not just a miserable mope like the rest of the Westview men…he’s also…creepy. A pasty, pudgy putz in his early forties who spends most of his time hanging out with teenage boys. He is the last guy you’d want to hear discussing his sex life.
This Way to the Egress
Led by faithful Flippy, I mean Buddy, Wally and Rachel head for the fairground exits. They pass by Cory and his equally jerky-looking friends testing their mettle at the Army recruiting booth. Not sure what we are supposed to make of Wally’s sidelong glance as he passes by. Certainly his own stint in the service was no picnic: in addition to being a P.O.W. and mistakenly presumed dead and buried in abstentia, Wally survived a land mine, chopper crash and even being blown up in a video game. Still, I would suggest that for an able-bodied, directionless young punk like Cory, military service might be just the thing.
Some "Buddy" Help Me
Remembering where he parked the car is “not a problem anymore” for Wally. ‘Cause remember all those wacky gags dealing with his absent-mindedness? Neither do I. But I wonder if Buddy can help whoever colors these strips remember what color Rachel’s pants are supposed to be? She’s gone from black, to brown, to black, to brown…