Since the Winnipeg Blue Bombers week month year endless arc has begun, it’s a good time to talk about a Funkyverse concept I’ve been wanting to give a name to. This is another installment in my TBTropes series.
“Payola” was the practice of individuals accepting money to play certain songs on the radio. It was the early days of mass media, and radio DJs found they were well-positioned to accept bribes from record companies who wanted their work on the airwaves. A similar concept was “plugola,” which was a product endorsement done outside the traditional advertising arrangement. Congress started putting an end to these practices in 1959, at the same time they went after against rigged TV game shows.
This isn’t really what Tom Batiuk does in his comic strips, though. Poster The Drake of Life nailed his motivation:
I assume TB is a fan because someone related to the team paid him a tiny bit of attention and he glommed onto it desperately.
https://sonofstuckfunky.com/2025/07/18/we-were-all-thinking-it/#comment-176917
I believe this also. But neither “word “plugola” nor “payola” works to describe all the corporate logos, borrowed intellectual property, and childhood favorites that that drive plots in Funky Winkerbean and its spinoffs. Batiuk isn’t getting money under the table to do this. I’ve invented the following TBTropes term to describe it instead:
Egola: any plot element in the Funkyverse that exists to indulge Tom Batiuk’s ego.
I gave it the same -ola ending. It’s pronounced with emphasis on the E, rhyming with “Ricola” from those TV commercials.
Let’s list some examples of Egola in the Funkyverse:
- Winnipeg Blue Bombers
- Ohio Music Educators Association convention
- Ohioana Book Fair
- The Phantom Empire
- The Flash
- other comic book properties he likes, like John Howard’s Batman logo t-shirt and the Superman art during last week’s interview
- San Diego Comic-Con
- the negative renaming of companies Batiuk doesn’t like, like FleaBay and Toxic Taco
- stories where the characters pretend to share Tom Batiuk’s own shallow opinions, like “climate damage” and school tax levies
- Plots about Lisa’s Story, which is really just promotion for Batiuk’s own real-life books about it
- Montoni’s, in its role as a stand-in for Luigi’s pizza of Akron, Ohio
- The entire book publishing process, as depicted. Which, according to Tom Batiuk is: declare self “good writer”; write book off-panel; get agent; design cover; do book signings; do interviews; do more book signings; win awards; do more book signings; design more covers; win more awards; repeat.
- The entire character of Batton Thomas
- Especially his endless, insufferable interview with Skip Rawlings. (Holy cow, how big does your ego have to be to think that two dinner meetings isn’t enough time to interview you properly?)
Drake of Life went on to say:
Think he’ll bother to make up a story about why Jff’s a fan?
I don’t think he will. Even though it would be stunningly easy to justify Jeff’s interest in the CFL instead of the NFL: he’s from Cleveland. I’m sure the woebegotten Browns have driven plenty of people to get behind teams like the St. Louis Battlehawks rather than the local team. (And I root for an NFL team whose last big game was the plot of Ace Ventura: Pet Detective.)
Exploring Jeff’s thought process could be great fun. There’s a whole Internet culture of football fan bases poking fun at each other, like Drew Magary’s “Why Your Team Sucks” series, and YouTube creators like UrinatingTree and BenchwarmerBran. You could do that kind of story here.
Instead, Pam and Ed have been talking to Jeff like he’s Rain Man having a fit about missing Judge Wopner. “It’s still in the wash”? He was wearing it the last 15 times we’ve seen him! This is an excuse you’d give your two-year-old who’s upset about misplacing a stuffed animal. I wonder how bad this is going to get.
(Canonical side note: if it’s true that this is Jeff’s “game shirt”, that means anytime he’s wearing it, he’s trying to watch a Blue Bombers game. Go back and read that “Ed dials his own cell phone” Sunday strip again, and imagine Jeff is a football addict who’s being distracted from his precious game. Gives it some of that subtext it needed, doesn’t it?)







“Let’s fix that!” strikes me as a mantra for the latter half of Act III Funky Winkerbean. As this 50-year old comic strip approaches its twilight, Batiuk is busy retconning (and/or outright forgetting) established themes. Bull never really beat Les up; he was actually protecting his nerd friend from the real bullies. Yeah, the kids all picked on Wicked Wanda, but as adults they would be made to seek her forgiveness.