You know, if I saw a couple of teenagers hauling a mattress toward my house, I’m not sure I would deduce that they are 1) high school students and that 2) they are selling mattresses to raise funds. (I’m not sure what I would make of it, to be honest.) That this guy has correctly deduced all this makes him much more of a detective than either Bernie or Thatsnought; thus, he has every right to ignore the “wit” offered, pivot on his heel, and slam the door in the faces of these inept salesmen. Something I’d honestly like to see happen more often to the regular cast, followed of course by dumping vats of boiling oil over them. I’ll stop there, because I could probably go on for page after page of Funky Winkerbean cast humiliation, and I’d never get any work done.
Is it my eyes, or is that mattress getting smaller and smaller? They should just sell them as pet beds, because no human being over the age of six is going to spend a comfortable night on one of those. That is, if “comfortable night” is a possibility in this strip.
Son of Stuck Funky 