Just when even a Harry Dinkle story arc would be welcome…and just when you thought Les couldn’t be more of an insufferable prick. He doesn’t even allow her to get a sentence out before cutting her off. And Netbusters? Yeah, I’ve got them bookmarked, right along with Facespace.
Great Picasso-esque profile of Les in panel 3: both eyes have begun to migrate to the same side of his face.
Keisha returns home after a long night of bustin’ heads with her gang, the Baseball Furies. That cold bottle of Cristal would go down real good…Better put it back on ice, though; once Cayla tells her daughter who Les was gettin’ “busy” with, we’re goin’ extra innings!
Too many co-inky-dinks going on in this arc: Susan gets to Les’ Garage mere minutes ahead of Cayla…Cayla peeps them through the window but rather than create a scene, splits, unnoticed…When Cayla calms down and decides to call Les, her stupid phone battery’s dead…already. And Susan just grins that shit-eatin’ grin of hers…
Les, you pathetic, cringing little milksop. “Actually, I did think Cayla might call…guess she has no time for poor me…” Susan, your plan worked perfectly: show up just a couple ticks ahead of Les’ woman, engage in a friendly toast…not allowing her to catch you naked together or anything; that would force a confrontation (and she would no doubt mop the floor with you). Nope, just send her away with a sheepish look on her face, and you’ll soon have Les all to yourself.
I know, there’s no shade; it’s a pretty big window through which Cayla spies the “man” of her dreams swilling cheap bubbly with his erstwhile stalker. Cayla, sweetie, you gotta get up pret-ty early in the morning to get the jump on Susan. Why not join the party? Go ahead and crack that bottle…right over Susan’s head. Then use the jagged neck of the bottle to carve up Les.
Son of Stuck Funky 