Your link to today’s comic is here.
In a flashback, Bully Bull Bushka is about to make Helmet Head Les spit bloody Chiclets. There’s a life lesson in today’s strip, kids: years removed from high school, the strapping jock has become a feeble, wishy-washy, paunchy middle-aged man, while the meek nerd…has also become a feeble, wishy-washy, paunchy middle-aged man.
Tag: physical therapy
Oh, Hell Gnaw
Funky’s strange convalescence continues. Sitting around the house bored? Was he not just last week dashing around Montoni’s, twisting Les’ arm to have his party there? And ordering champagne? Or was that another head-trauma induced dream? The punchline makes no sense either: there’s no need to “gnaw a leg off”; in fact, that would make escaping more difficult.
Following this strip is nearly as grueling as actual physical therapy. Ponderous, man…effin’ ponderous.
Smirk Therapy
The Funkmeister suffers more maltreatment at the hands of those entrusted with his care. To be fair, I wouldn’t know how to answer his second question either. “Break it down a little” for you? Really, what part doesn’t Funky get?
Water You Saying?
That’s some bedside manner you got there, Mr. Nameless Male Physical Therapist: “Hmmm…must come up with some small talk to break the ice with this fat old douchebag…‘Nice neckbrace’, no, no, that’ll get him mad. ‘Nice t-shirt’? Noooo…wait, I got it…”
“Ahem. Nice water bottle.”
“Ahh, screw you.”
Rag, Mama, Rag
Now that he’s banged up and bruised, they’re all getting their licks in at Funky’s expense…the smartass nurse, the wisecracking physical therapist…but nobody has been savoring the schadenfreude more than “Headlight Stuck in a Deer” Holly. Keep it up, you toothless crone…that look that Funky’s giving you in the second panel tells me that your time is gonna come…
Son of Stuck Funky 