Linda takes a break from baking a meatloaf? a potato grown under the power lines? you know, let’s go with a small boulder in today’s strip to… call Bull on his cell phone. Is… is that really what is happening here? What the everwhating what?!
If Linda thought Bull was inside the house, why did she not walk 17 feet to try to find him instead of calling him on the telephone? If she knew he was out, where did she think he was and who did she think he was with (Buck?)? Was she really letting him go out on his own? This is her behavior as a caregiver? Even murderers after life insurance money would say she’s trying too hard.
While Bull didn’t survive his trip off Nobottom Road, his cell phone sure did. Much as how folks in our universe wonder why airplanes aren’t made out of the material used to make black boxes, one would think there are folks in the Batiukverse wondering why they don’t make cars out of the material used to make cell phones…
We left yesterday an hour in the past and now today’s strip hops back to the present and then… back a week?! I dunno about CTE, but this kind of rapid time travel is enough to give you whiplash.
Isn’t this Dr. Jowls, the North Carolina neurologist? Bull and Linda were in North Carolina last week? Why is the nearest neurologist in North Carolina anyways? Bull got pretty much the exact same lines from the apparently northern Ohio-based Dr. Fivehead 3 whole years ago.
Some doctor this guy is, he’s all probable diagnosis and no treatment, and his probable diagnosis does not appear to have done a darn thing for Linda’s quest for disability benefits. Is… is that really the only reason she took him to this doctor in the first place?
Hey, so we get a microcosm of this whole story arc in today’s strip, jumping back an hour prior to the wreck that we’ve already seen… much as TB has already spoiled how this important story arc ends.
The worst thing, though, is that poor, lonesome, neglected potted plant 8-and-a-half feet up on top of the kitchen cabinets… or maybe its that Linda’s oh-so-clever hiding place for the car keys was the top of the unlocked junk drawer? The dadgum JUNK DRAWER, Linda?! The place EVERY sentient being knows that EVERY key-sized thing winds up in at one time or another? Were you even trying?
Hello folks, I’m billytheskink… but you don’t care about that. You’re here for the grisly details about the award-winning (pending) suicide of one Bull Bushka. So here you are: Today’s strip in all its g(l)ory!
Here comes the state police to 10-50 PI (code for accident/personal injury) the smoldering remains of Bull’s subcompact. This’ll undoubtedly take all week, so pack some snacks. Even so, one day in and it’s better paced than Linda and the letter at least. High praise, I know.
Also, big kudos to @tauycreek on Twitter, who pointed out Bull’s TB’s inspiration for this vehicular mayhem…
Yep, back in the summer of 1998, an intoxicated Wally drove himself and Becky right through a guardrail and off a ledge. Not sure why those two only lost Lefty’s arm and Bull lost his life, but that’s the Batiukverse for ya.
Link To Today’s Strip
Every SoSF guest host after thirteen days…
Not available for preview. Maybe the ponderous CTE arc continues, maybe it’s Les raking leaves or Funky fixing the band box or Roberta finally descending from the scissor lift…who the hell knows? But, and I hate to break it to you, I don’t think this is the Big One yet, folks. Nope, there’s more water to tread here, unless that NYT interview was some sort of elaborate troll. Sigh.
UPDATE: Wow, Bull DID find the car keys! A classic morbid Sunday FW strip. I thought we still had another week of stalling but nope. We’ve already seen next Sunday’s strip so what now? A week of no one knowing where Bull is? A week of Linda reading his suicide note word by painstaking word?
Coming on Monday: billytheskink takes over for what promises to be a monumental two week stint. Or it would have been, if the Great Pulitzer Nominee didn’t stupidly gak it all up. Nevertheless, you’ll be in great hands!