So we finally got to see the fire that canonically shuttered literacy for two generations.
In contrast, here’s a normal Wednesday at Ed Crankshaft’s house, which is considered comedy:
And here’s what we saw when Les Moore needed help coming to terms with letting Marianne Winters watch video tapes of his dead wife, even though some of them were benign enough to exhibit publicly.
Continue reading “If The Burnings Were A Movie, You’d Walk Out. Let’s Write A Better One.”
Courtesy of that blog of his. For one brief, magical moment, I thought that maybe this was some sort of fantastical custom FW-themed “Monopoly” board, featuring all the FW locations we’ve come to know, love, then forget. Oh, because that would be freaking spectacular.
“You will never pass GO, you will never collect $200.”
“Awesome, the pizzeria! I own the comic book store and the sandwich shop, if I land on the travel agency, I’ll own ALL the utilities!”
“Cool, the cemetery! I’ll buy that, and put up two headstones! Once you’re up to four headstones, you can buy a crypt!”
“Hey, why is Les Moore’s house the most expensive property on the board?”
The Montoni’s apartment would be Baltic Ave., and Funky’s house would be Park Place. And jail would be the cancer ward. And “Free Parking” would be “Free Park Bench”! Oh, I’d actually physically fight him for it if such a wonderful thing existed. I’d buy one right now if only that was possible.
Have a Merry Christmas, all, and a nice, relatively Crankshaft-free New Year, too!
Well, at least today’s strip made it easy to choose a post title. I don’t feel like I had any other choice.
As far as the strip goes, is this really more feminine and more hopeful than Atomik Komix’s previous climage damate covers? (Eh and Eh are my answers) More importantly, is this the kind of cover Chester can be deadly serious about? Yeah, probably. Chester, introduced as an unscrupulous and unpleasant wheeler-dealer, is pretty much the most laid back boss ever these days.
Pete should leave the snark to us. For one thing, baked potatoes are delicious and this strip suffers greatly in comparison to them. For another, all this damate climage comic business was Pete’s idea in the first place. And above all, Ruby’s given him some prime snark ammunition by drawing some planet that does not appear in almost any way to be earth and he just completely misses it. Leave the wisecracks to the professionals in our comment section next time, Pete.
Does he really not know? Because Phil doesn’t appear to be kidding here. So the question must be asked again: what is he, some kind of moron? It might not have been his intent, but every character in this week’s arc came across like a total dolt.
“Bowles”…nice proofreading there, Pulitzer (nominee) Boy. “From the bowles of the Earf, it’s the Subterrain Ian!”. What the hell is The Subterranean doing there? Collecting scrap metal? I mean, sure, that’s terrific and all, but hardly planet-saving. He’s like Bubbles from “The Wire”, but with a tiny head and muscles. And way less personable, too.
Well, it was a long, strange stint for me, but now it’s over. According to my calculations, I should be back just in time for (gulp) the holidays. You know, the annual year-ending ones. Up next, a tanned, rested and mellow TFHackett! Stay Funky, gang!
Today’s strip was shot in Kodachrome… despite being set even further back in time than this past week’s sepia-toned historical revision. Really sets the mood for imagined fiery death, doesn’t it?
You would (not) be surprised at how often TB goes to the well for Holly’s Act I flaming baton trick. It wouldn’t shock me if it has appeared as a gag in Act III more often than it ever actually did in Act I. But hey, after this past week, I’ll take some Sunday Funky-Holly filler, even if it involves flaming batons.
And with that, I cede the podium to Comic Book Harriet, a master of both Batiukverse history and the entertaining anecdote. I expect we will enjoy a good bit of both from her in the coming weeks.
Son of Stuck Funky 
