Today’s strip wasn’t available for preview, so I stayed up till 11:30 central time pressing refresh waiting for this to drop.
And when it did drop…oh how it dropped…It dropped like a wet turd on a soggy carpet. Disgusting, toxic, waste contaminating an already blighted background.
The only joy I’m getting from this is the anticipation of all your comments on it. Attack! Like the Furies of old! Savaging those who defile honor, oath, and the natural bonds of kinship!
Filed under Son of Stuck Funky
Oh Goodie! Just my luck, a strip so banal that the entire thing, both in words and artwork, progresses the story in an almost negative direction!
In panel one, a lobed-headed monstrosity announces from the inky black crowd mass that the auction is about to start. We know this can’t be Darin or Jess since it’s shown in the next panel that they’re jockeying for position in in the back row like this is church or something. The unseen person doesn’t say ‘The auction is about to start,’ like a normal person might, but mentions again the full title of the auction. This gives him a chance to utter the name of The Blessed Dead St. Lisa aloud, which knocks off a few hours of future Masky McDeath Purgatory. No one in Funkyverse ever passes up a chance to mention St. Lisa’s name.
In the second panel, the vaguely Asian woman is either chewing tobacco, or has a severe case of lump jaw. But the greatest miscreation of this scene blooms between Darin and Jess like a horrifying, fleshy flower. Four hands. THERE ARE FOUR HANDS! Gripping and grasping each other in a sweaty mass. And creeping out of Lockjaw’s hair are the slender fingers of Jess’s right hand. Meaning… DARIN HAS THREE HANDS!
Luckily in the last panel, we learn that jogging lightly for less than three miles sends Darin’s pulse rate skyrocketing. Congestive heart failure will soon end his multi-appendaged misery. And I for one look forward to Darin’s Legacy Fund for Congenital Defects.
Also, are we sure that Darin hasn’t gotten a nose job? He looks uncannily like Masone Jarre. I’m predicting a ‘Talented Mr. Ripley’ scenario coming soon. And Jess can join in! All she has to get is a bob cut and she would look just like Cindy!
Filed under Son of Stuck Funky
Hello Funkysnark Fans! Comic Book Harriet here. And I am soooo honored to be with you this week! This is my first time driving the bus! But as long as I don’t go careening off any cliffs like a drunk on prom night, I think we should be okay.
And for my first strip we have an almost ‘Mark Trail’ set up, with a building cheerfully spouting expository dialogue. I do have to applaud the scene setting in the first panel. We know we’re in Beverly Hills because a vapid looking, overly skinny, socialite, in a back-exposing top has wandered into traffic and is about to get mowed down by a blue Porsche. It could use some topical Hollywood harassment, but these strips are written months in advance.
Boy Lisa, and the person who exists so Boy Lisa has someone to talk to when Droopy Eyes McSadWriter isn’t around, are gearing up for the only thing that really matters in Funkyverse: Comic Book Cancer (Charity Action).
I am totally baffled by Mrs. Flowers in The Attic saying the title of the auction as ‘Covers for the Cure.’ It seems to be followed by BoyLisa suddenly realizing they forgot to promote this event. Or maybe that ‘Covers for the Cure’ would be a better promotion than whatever they chose. Which is probably something like’ Starbuck Saves Second Base!’ But why would the young Miss Darling say it in the first place if it wasn’t the title of the event?
Are you excited for a week of fictional strips that serve as cheap advertising for a real life auction for a real life charity that honors the tragic death of a fictional character? Because I sure as heck am!
Filed under Son of Stuck Funky
Speaking for myself, Boy Lisa’s annoying insistence on referring to Lisa as his “mom” is nothing short of infuriating. Lisa was not Darin’s “mom”, his mother is named Ann and she’s currently back in Westview caring for his father Fred, who suffered a stroke on the crapper a few years back. Let me tell you, the way he took his misery knife and carved up those two characters was one of the cruelest things he’s done in Act III and all of it after Ann single-handedly scored Summer her championship too. The stroke, the loveless sham marriage full of unfulfilled dreams, the weird half-sister, Darin’s sudden embrace of Saint Lisa as his “mom”…he went all-out on the Fairgoods.
BanTom’s barely-disguised disdain for adoption in general aside, what a laughable piece of claptrap this is. Sure, this husband, father of a young child and sole provider has a hefty windfall plop right into his lap and his first thought is Lisa…come on already, Tom, knock it the f*ck off.
Filed under Son of Stuck Funky
Finishing in third place in the fifty-and-over category in a charity cancer fun run dedicated to the memory of her husband’s dead first wife represents a “perfect day” for Cayla? Good God these people are so f*cking dull. Unambitious too. Les can only write about one topic, Cayla is overjoyed after being beaten by two other runners, Lisa wants to jog behind her former husband and his new wife forever…what a bunch of sad-sack-sorry losers. Live slow, die old and leave a weathered beaten corpse, as the old saying goes.
Filed under Son of Stuck Funky
Sure Les, they didn’t participate in a cancer fun run because it was for a worthy cause or because they enjoy running, they did it for a banana and one of those hideous tee-shirts that no sane person would wear again for any reason. Only you may fully appreciate Lisa’s Story, the rest of the peons are no more than animals, unworthy gullible morons. He can’t even be bothered to thank the participants for their time, he’s too busy implying that they’re just a bunch of easily-swayed marks. What a dick.
What a shitty punchline too. The gag would be terrible enough on its own, but what really sends today’s strip over the edge is that artwork in panel three. Seeing Les in that odd annoying pose fills me with a peculiar mix of rage and queasiness I can’t quite define, as it’s unique to this comic strip and the Les character. You know exactly what I’m talking about, that complex combination of sheer anger, stupefying boredom and total disgust that only Les Moore himself can generate. The Germans have a word for it: Lessmoorefruedeschitzen, which roughly translates to “shameful annoyed rage”. While any FW arc can and will be just as bad, when Les is involved it’s just a whole different level.
Filed under Son of Stuck Funky
I want it to go on forever too, or at least until Les Moore finally collapses in dehydrated agony, his body cramping so severely that it eventually implodes into a small green globule that gets washed into the nearest storm drain during the next good autumn soaking. Because that would be great. Barring that, blah, this is downright creepy. I mean who wrote this one, his nine year old niece?
LOL Ghost Lisa. What’s her deal anyway? Is she somehow contractually bound to only appear at Les sanctioned events or is she free to move about as she pleases? She seriously wants to spend all eternity following Les and his new living wife as they jog around that crummy park? What a bore, although it does deviate from the typical Westviewian’s eternal dream, that being eating pizza in a structure made entirely of comic books, of course.
In fact it sounds more like hell to me, but then again I’ve always despised Les Moore and all he stands for thus I’m slightly biased. I liked Ghost Lisa more back when she was detecting structural problems in passenger jets and things like that, you know, really USING her ghostly powers. Now she’s another bland idiot whose only interesting characteristic is being dead. In fact if she wasn’t transparent (indicating ghostliness) she’d be indistinguishable from the rest of these dullards. Who’d even notice anyway?
Filed under Son of Stuck Funky
