Tag: Cindy

Cindy’s ambush interview

In today’s strip, the background has been transformed into a wall of generalised human flesh.

And theres no sign of Sniffy the Homunculus from yesterday.
And there’s no sign of Sniffy the Homunculus from yesterday.

One can only assume that the background has just awoken from uneasy dreams. “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” screams the background as it awakes with a start. “I’ve been transformed into a featureless wall of flesh.”

As for the action, Cindy channels some amalgam of Edward R. Murrow and Mike Wallace—who am I kidding?—she reaches deep into her rich background as a journalist, and pulls out a legalistic trick right out of the 4th grade playground. Oh? You promised not to say anything? That’s fine; just write it on this napkin. As Les demurs, I tried to come up with other techniques for her to suggest:

  • tweet it
  • sing it like a Broadway show tune
  • jungle drums
  • tap it out in Morse code on the table
  • smoke signals
  • semaphore!
  • let’s play charades
  • perform it as interpretive dance
  • send me a singing telegram
  • something… Hey, wait a minute!

Why is Cindy in Westview—in Montoni’s of all places—on a weekday? Shouldn’t she be in Cleveland anchoring the news? Why is Les not at work? Shouldn’t he be at the high school making teenagers hate literature? It’s like BanTom is the issue of some unholy DNA experiment involving The Two Eds: Bulwer-Lytton and Wood.

The one with a homunculus

Take a close look at Les in panel 3 of today’s strip!

Les winces as a homunculus sniffs his hair
Les winces as a homunculus sniffs his hair

Turning guy-in-the-background into homonculus-in-the-foreground is my contribution to the writing in this week’s arc. I’ve foreseen the future, and—let me tell you—it’s going to be a slog this week. Brace yourselves, because we’re spending the whole week inside Montoni’s.

On the other hand, this will almost happen:

Cindy: Les, why are you always such a douche? Les: Eh, it suits me.
Cindy: Les, why are you always such a douche? Les: Eh, it suits me.

We’ll also dig deep into Cindy’s journalistic bag of tricks, and the depth of Les’s moral integrity. But that’s all for the future of this slow, slow week. Because—don’t get me wrong!—it won’t be interesting, and there will be disappointment a-plenty for us, the reading audience.

It’s Like Winkerbean on Your Wedding Day (& Isn’t It Ironic? Don’t You Think?)

In today’s strip, a bitter Funky Winkerbean tries to crap all over cousunclin Wally’s wedding plans, because he’s a bitter man, old before his time, who wrecked his own marriage to Blonde Wife #1 with small ambition and cheap Montoni’s wine. It deserves none of our attention, except maybe to note that Wally’s first marriage ended because of two stints as a POW. Just saying—keep it classy, Tom Batiuk!

However, the phrase “bad Winkerbean vibes” did catch my eye. Vibe→Zeitgeist→this Google trends chart. Hey, it’s the way my mind works.

Also, no, Alanis, after all these years, it’s still not ironic.