Has Coach Bull already abandoned the “project” of whipping Les’ sorry ass into shape? He’s nowhere to be seen today. No matter: here comes motivation in the form of none other than Ed Crankshaft! Yes, it can be no one else; just peep this Crankshaft comic from July 2009:
The above strip is from that weird flash-forward arc where Crankshaft becomes unstuck in time, leaping Billy Pilgrim-like between scenes of his present-day, younger and older selves. This appearance lends support to the theory that Crankshaft, while also set in Ohio, takes place ten years in the past.*
Note to Cayla: if the prospect of being left to plan your wedding on your own, while your fiance goes off with his daughter to climb Kilimanjaro, doesn’t convince you that you’re making a huge mistake, well, you’re on your own.
Did I say Montoni’s was deserted? I stand corrected: as long as the coffee’s free, there will be “Crazy” Harry Klinghorn taking up space at the counter. Darin unwisely decides to use Harry as a one-man focus group to market test his latest hare-brained scheme. Sadly, though he still wears a postal uniform, Crazy’s been unemployed since before Act III began (think about it: have we ever seen him deliver any mail?) and is reduced to scrounging free grub from his old friend Funky. Hence, Harry’s preoccupation with where his next meal is coming from.
Meanwhile, over in Centerville:
Snarker Flummoxicated emailed SoSF to call my attention to a ver-r-r-ry intriguing Crankshaft crossover: Cranky is introduced to the daughter of his friend “Smokey” Williams. Damn! She looks very familiar…
Talk about unfortunate timing! For Batiuk’s sake, I hope that casual readers of his strip realize that he writes these well in advance, and is not rushing to print in an attempt to capitalize on Friday’s horrific earthquake in Japan.
TB goes all meta on us today: yes, that is indeed the first panel of today’s Crankshaft comic. Now, it would have been really clever to have Ed Crankshaft reading today’s funnies and complaining bitterly about how unfunny FW has become. Instead, today’s Crankstrip is not only unrelated and unfunny, but it barely makes sense. And speaking of elderly Ed, put a red ballcap on Funky in panel 3 and I defy you to tell him and Crankshaft apart.
“Diversions” is what “they’re calling graphic arts now”? Who are “they“? I’m pretty sure graphic arts is still called “graphic arts”, and outside of the Help Wanteds, the newspapers I read don’t have a “graphic arts section” (or Diversions…my paper calls it the “Better Living” section). My paper does sometimes have articles that stop mid-sentence. That’s what they call a production error. If they want you to go to the web they usually put a link in the article.
I guess newspapers have now joined Wall Street bankers on TB’s List of Greedy Amoral Morons.
billytheskink
April 15, 2010 at 9:01 am I really hope this week doesn’t end with Apple Annie giving Les that lost manuscript and him being happy about it.
Merry Pookster
April 16, 2010 at 9:00 am [A]ny bets on Apple Annie giving Les his lost manuscript in the next couple of days.
O.B. Dan
April 17, 2010 at 1:14 am Annie hands it over to Les, who is so amazed and delighted he forgets to punch the bitch’s lights out for holding back on it so long.
April 18, 2010: the day that Funky Winkerbean completely lost any sembelance of linear, logical storytelling, and in the process sent a big “kiss my ink-stained ass” valentine to us, the readers.
Oh no she didn’t: By the way, here’s the manuscript you lost. I have been holding onto it lo, these many years. Sorry, but the last four chapters are missing; I used ‘em for asswipe. Bam, closure. The rest of the panel is taken up with little vignettes supposed to fill us readers in on the whole entire chain of events from the last ten years. Except, I thought that’s what the last three days’ strips were doing. Now the reader is expected to sort thru these postage-stamp size scenes and put them in order.
So Crankshaft did spend some time living on the streets? He sure looks it, as Summer Less pointed out. Where are his huge glasses? What clue is he getting from seeing Annie’s bio in a Playbill that must be 25 to 40 years old? Did Fallen Star get published (we see a hardcover copy), attributed to Les, making Annie a successful agent without her client ever knowing about it? Is this not the laziest, most inept, slapdash attempt at storytelling the comics have ever seen? Batiuk (and you too, Armstrong) present to the readers this steaming, senseless mess of a story, and the readers are expected to grin thankfully, just as Les does when he finally gets his stolen masterpiece handed back to him.
Son of Stuck Funky 
