Tag: Mason

99 Luft Word Balloons

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FIVE characters and an astounding EIGHT word balloons in a two-paneler…just imagine if he’d have filled those word balloons with some actual content. This story might have been going places! Unfortunately though, this is FW and things just don’t work like that around here. More words = even less action in the Funkyverse.

Cindy’s descent into one-note trope hell is complete, as she’s ALREADY sexually threatened and seething with white-hot jealousy over seeing her husband interacting with a co-worker he’s known for years. That was fast. A little subtlety might have been applicable here, you know, like an eyeroll or something. But again, things don’t work like that around here. Funky is the fat one, Wally is the jittery one, Lisa is the dead one, Bull is the dead one and Cindy is the implacably jealous and insecure one and that’s just they way it is.

It’s really stupid, though and more than slightly, uh, reductive, I guess. Mason sees Cindy cozying up to Les and doesn’t give a damn, Cindy sees Mason chatting with a co-star and she’s boiling with hateful fury within seconds. Sure, I admit it, I notice when there’s cleavage in the strip but next to the guy who writes this thing I’m like freaking Gloria Allred. He took the most traditionally “successful” character (male or female) in the strip and turned her into an insecure teenager, strictly for laughs. Attempted laughs, that is.

Winters Coming

Link To Today’s Strip

This one gets a “cleavage” tag for Cindy, as it’s very faintly visible if you look closely. I know, I know, it’s a problem and I’m working on it. It is kind of interesting how that’s one small detail Ayers doesn’t seem to skimp on.

And there she is, fresh off her unsuccessful suicide bid, Marianne Winters aka Jupiter Moon. Man, Hollywood has aged her terribly. Then again that Food Film arc was like twenty or thirty years ago, so there you go. So now I’m expecting a few days of phony Hollywood banter, a day of Marianne pretending to die as Mason/Les wails “nooooooo!” followed by three more days of phony Hollywood banter, followed by a week of Cindy driving Les back to the airport and telling him she’d have done him in high school. Sigh. I hate Mondays.

A Ripping Poor Yarn

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Now he’s snidely mocking the actresses’ hair (which looks brown from here, bub), like HE has room to talk. Paulie Walnuts called, he wants his look back. Apparently the whole “theme” here is that Les is going to carry on like a gigantic asshole over every single detail of the production, which should make for a fun two years. It’s almost as if Les/Tom doesn’t understand that they’re actors who are capable of changing their “look” and not just random people who may or may not look exactly like Lisa. I mean Marlon Brando wasn’t a mumbling deranged lunatic warlord living in the jungle and decapitating people in real life, it was only a movie. Idiot.

I’d Like To Wrap His Head Around A Javelin

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What a dick. They make all these aspiring young actresses audition for a role they have no chance of getting just to appease Les’ Lisa fanaticism and meanwhile the bearded dick with ears smugly sits there picking apart their looks and previous roles like he’s some sort of Hollywood kingmaker and not just a whiny douche from Ohio…the boring part of Ohio, no less. In reality that anon-o-character looks alarmingly like Lisa did during her annoying poodle head phase, but Les saw her in some shitty movie on the plane so adios, sucker. His entitlement knows no bounds. God I just despise him so much and he’s around all the time now, like every day for weeks and weeks and weeks on end. As bad as FW is without him it’s just so, so much worse when he’s around.