The expressions in today’s strip are really something. Panel one’s Les looks like he’s ready to burst into a whine. “I’ve been listening to you talk forehhhhhhhver. It’s miiiiiiiiiiii turn!”
Panel two’s Linda counters with “Gad. Why am I talking to this excrement stain. I could be watching TV, or eating toast.”
I’ve no opinion on the NFL-as-monster issue, though it’s pretty clear Batiuk is saying they have blood on their hands because they won’t fund Linda’s post-marriage lifestyle. “It’s not fair.” Well, Linda, I’d say that if Bull never played in a game, his brain damage can’t be ascribed to the NFL. Some players have a career in the NFL that lasts years, and I’m sure their brain damage would be far worse that someone who (apparently) got his CTE while in high school or college. The NFL can reasonably say “We don’t know who this guy is.”
Fair? Maybe not, but life isn’t fair. Never has been, never will be. The NFL is not, repeat not in the business of providing health care for its players. It exists to make money through entertainment. That’s an argument that ought to be applied to comic strips, but somehow never is.
Son of Stuck Funky 
![cup of coffee* with the [St. Louis] Cards](https://skyfutonsockfun.files.wordpress.com/2017/10/1710241.gif){kind=link}