What faraway place is Les at tonight? Does Cayla even has to ask? Les is with his dead wife of course! Today’s strip has Les spending more quality time with Lisa’s ghost as he ponders what-ifs. At some point he probably realized that he wouldn’t be a delicate genius author if she’d lived, so he’s probably glad things turned out the way they did.
Tag: Lisa
Paging Deathmask
Did you hear that? No, I’m not talking about the clumsily put “Darrin’s mother Lisa.” line, I’m talking about the whisper of Death, blowing across Westview, summoned by none other than Pa Pizza himself!
Deathy McKillerson may have to brush off his best tux from the look of things in Today’s strip, but it’s hard to tell if the last panel is supposed to be foreshadowing to a massive pepperoni-induced heart attack or just a joke that fell flat.
Mama Mia, Pizzeria!
Tuesday! Where we rush into a plot-line that we’ve literally already seen before. I’m not just just referring to when Darrin was born but in the 600 times his delivery was mentioned in the strip since. I mean, no wonder Darrin is having Deja-Vu about it, how many times has he had to sit through the story of his rush to the hosptial?
Odds that Fred is going to pop out of his medical drama to “help with the delivery” are looking pretty darned high from the looks of today’s strip.
She’s Having a Tired Plot Device
‘Ello! 4th-trumpet and Westview Waterboy DavidO is checking in, giving much-needed relief to Beckoning Chasm after BC’s two week run of excellent Funky snarking.
On to the funnies!
Hoo-boy. Put on your Members Only Jacket and throw on your Michael Jackson album because we’re about to retread over one of the tiredest troupes in situation comedy, the “Oh God, I’m having a baby, let’s duck into the nearest malfunctioning elevator that has a Rabbi, a mime and a 300lb guy who easily faints in it.” routine that was required in every sitcom, by congressional mandate, from 1983-1994.
Today’s strip throws logic out the window in favor of comedy, though I still don’t see how a panicked trip to the hospital where you gnaw your fingertips raw with anxiety constitutes comedy.
This sort of strip is great at illustrating why cell phones are the bane of screenwriters everywhere. In the age of instant connection, Jess could have just texted Durwood to come pick her up; she’s really feeling it and it’s almost time. The suitcase would already be in the car in that scenario; no need for a pregnant woman to go hauling it around.
I can’t peek ahead, so there’s no way of knowing if this arc is going to go on for weeks or if the Sainted Grandbaby will be enrolled in Westview High this time next month. Either way, prepare for every single worn out fumbling-dad-goes-to-the-hospital schtick ever seen in the last three centuries.
(S)Hit Parade
So when Pm & Jff interrupted Frankie during his wind-up, it turns out he was about to pummel Lisa because she was breaking up with him, not because of her pregnancy or whatever. Perhaps I’m just way too cynical but to me this one reads as if BatTom felt he really needed to give the reader a reason to hate Frankie even more. So he used the diary contrivance to inform us that his assaults were an ongoing thing, without elaborating, the same way he always dances around and skates the “issue” at hand while pretending to “address” it. Now he can add “teen domestic violence/underage drinking” to the ever-growing list of “relevant topics” FW has “tackled” and he can get back to his real “plot” which involves a reality TV show or something.
Panel three features some of the corniest dialog he’s ever put to paper. Good thing Lisa grew out of her “eye-reading” phase because quite frankly she really, really sucked at it. Also of note today is the bizarre shading in panel two (shadows??) and that horrific squiggle-haired chair which honestly makes me nauseous, as does Summer’s “concerned/sad” face.
Son of Stuck Funky 