Gasp! It’s today’s strip!
Rummaging through the drawer
Linda finds failure
Bull asked for the keys
Is known obsessive searcher
Just what could go wrong?
Keys barely hidden?
Linda phones homebody Bull?
This is asinine
No, seriously
This narrative makes no sense
All over the place
A Chevette 4 door
Indy 500 pace car…
And what year was that?
Buckeye State Police
Really do use that logo
But don’t use Chevettes
Filed under Son of Stuck Funky
Mindy continues to play editor in today’s strip. Just think, had she been employed at Atomik Komix from the very beginning then we Chester might not have had to endure the launch title flop that was The Inedible Pulp.
How does Mindy know that Armorilla is not so named because her super power is skin that is as tough as armor? Oh right, because she knows as well as we do that TB, Pete, and Durwood are not creative enough to come up with something like that. Frankly, “Armorilla” sounds more like she should be a clothed gorilla adversary of Atomic Ape and Charger Chimp (ugh) than a presumably human villainess who fights someone called The Scorch. One might think that wearing lots of armor would be easily exploited by a superhero called The Scorch, who surely has heat-oriented powers. None of these characters = “one”.
Filed under Son of Stuck Funky
Mother-in-laws….amirite? I mean come on. What’s a fella to do? One dame at home is plenty and I already have a dog to fetch my pipe, slippers and tumbler of scotch, thank you very much. What an old bag and so forth. And now the Copa is proud to introduce…Mr. Henny Youngman!
So another three hundred and sixty-five FW strips are in the bag. It sure looks like a lot when you spell it out like that. I mean you can say the same thing about any Act III year but man, 2018 was a real shit pile, even by FW standards. Exactly four things happened in FW in 2018.
Pete and Boy Lisa left Hollywood and began working for a whimsical Ohio-based komix book company. Mindy later joined them. They presumably still work there.
Wally, who may or may not be over the worst of his PTSD, invited his apparently estranged daughter Rana to Thanksgiving dinner. She accepted.
Bull’s rushing record was broken.
Funky’s mother-in-law visited Westview for a band competition and may remain there until she dies.
Pete and Boy Lisa’s unholy alliance with Chester was by far the dominant story arc of 2018 but even so, after all that time and all that toil he’s still only at the “they work there now” part of the story, which is exactly where it’ll resume and exactly where it’ll end next time as well. And what did we learn about our old pal Wally during his nearly two month long forced march of an arc? Well, apparently he’s “almost” about to graduate and he “seems” to be “doing better”, which is hardly news. He did invite his apparently estranged and seldom-seen daughter to dinner, though, which is where the story left off. Yup, that’s some real compelling character development right there.
Pervert Mort made a late run there at the end but the RRRRRRRR thing in the Wally arc was probably the single dumbest FW moment of the year in my opinion. 2018’s SoSF Most Reviled Player award (the “Les Moore Award”) goes to Les Moore, obviously, although the overall lack of Les was 2018’s sole bright spot. Pete and Boy Lisa are co-runners-up, though. It’s easy to forget now but that AK idiocy went on for freaking months.
Filed under Son of Stuck Funky
Today’s strip was not available for preview. It is, almost certainly, more of the same book signing shtick. Will today’s customer be totally or only partially clueless as to why they are waiting in line? We’ll have to find out together.
But while we are on the subject of Les’ books, let’s take a brief look back at the promotion for his first book Fallen Star, the John Darling bio and murder-solver that may or may not have actually been released in 1997 or 1998.
Les gets booked on “The Today Show”.
Has a publicity photo taken by Crankshaft’s non-Pam daughter Chris (Barry Balderman cameo in the photo-corner flashback!).
Gets bumped from “The Today Show” because his agent is terrible.
Gets interviewed by some giraffe children for their high school newspaper because his agent is terrible.
Sulks in the park and is found by Apple Annie, a homeless media maven and part-time stalker who would become Les’ publishing agent in early Act III before TB forgot she existed.
Post-script: Chris Crankshaft would later help Apple Annie out of homelessness. They met because Annie helped a lost Crankshaft find Chris during one of his infrequent visits to New York. I think the Batiukverse is shrinking to a singularity…
Filed under Son of Stuck Funky
Friday’s strip careens substantially more than ¼ inch from reality. There doesn’t seem to be any readily Googleable analogue to this situation here in reality prime. Using Google is all the effort I’ll put into this; it’s already more than Batominc puts into these plot lines. The Batominc plan is even simpler than that of the South Park gnomes.
We learned yesterday that “digital” shows Cindy’s age, in the words of her boss Dick “Baldy” McLitigationmagnet. This arc is turning out to be a perfect storm of things Batominc knows nothing about. Digital TV doesn’t have to be HD; I’m sure Cindy looks ravishing in SD 480i. Or at least vague and fuzzy. And current ABC News anchor Diane Sawyer is 68 years young.
As a member of the dominant boomer generation, Batominc’s stockholder ought to know that, as that generation ages while life expectancy increases, its attitudes about the visible signifiers of age are evolving. But that would require him to have his finger on the pulse of society. And there’s one thing about pulses: you can’t feel them from ¼ inch away. You have to actually touch the patient.
Batominc is bad at social observation, OK. Now, to be fair, he’s also bad at drawing his own characters. Or did Cindy get a sudden massive wrinkle in the milliseconds between panels 2 and 3?
Filed under Son of Stuck Funky
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.
Filed under Son of Stuck Funky
