Well, today’s strip either illustrates how the father whose neglect turned his son into a juvenile delinquent now counts the minutes until his safe return, or it’s glum foreshadowing of Cory’s date with a landmine.
Tag: Falling leaves
I, Me, Landmine
Les rather magnanimously inquires about Cory’s well-being. Funky replies “…I always used to worry about where he was headed.” He’s referring, of course, to Cory’s heyday of petty larceny, school vandalism, cheating, and sassing his teachers. You know: the days when Cory was the coolest, most likeable character in the strip. Anymore–I mean, nowadays, with Cory tiptoeing through the Bouncing Bettys in war-torn Iraquistan, I guess Funky no longer needs to worry about his “totally focused” stepson.
Panter Blitz
The ability to carry on a conversation while running is a reliable indicator of one’s physical fitness. Les, that magnificent bastard, demonstrates his unique gift of maintaining his douchebaggery at full gallop. Replace “Don’t take this the wrong way or anything…” with “I say, old chap…” and there you have it.
Bench Depress
As yesterday’s pitch blackness turns into cheerful dawn, our joggers pass by what appears to be a WWI “doughboy” sleeping on a park bench. The sight inspires Les (and Tom Batiuk) to launch another zinger about how “the Wall Street crowd” (aka the “greedy, immoral morons“) create so much misery for us decent folk.
Stick It Where the Sun Don’t Shine
For the second time this month, we’re being “treated” to Les and Funky, running and complaining. Les, who typically quotes the likes of Hemingway and Melville, this week seems reduced to speaking in aphorisms, but still delivers them with that oh-so-punchable trademark smirk.
Son of Stuck Funky 
