Link To Today’s Strip
That is one long, narrow table. And I assume that’s Rachel’s kid sitting next to her, even though I’m pretty sure he should be in high school by now. He’s definitely going to be in my nightmares for a while though, the way he’s staring right at the viewer for some reason. He looks like he should be in a horror movie, where none of the people can actually see him.
Wally’s expression is also pretty uncomfortable, although it’s more of the incredibly smug variety then creepy. I guess his expression is supposed to be saying “hey reader, look how awesome I am, having MUSLIMS at my (uncle/cousin’s) THANKSGIVING! Isn’t this mind-blowing, and award-worthy?! Damn, Tom Batiuk sure is one HELL of a writer”.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. 🙂
So what’s Robbie’s story? Does he have any issues, or is Batiuk just incapable of drawing appealing children? For now, Robbie exists as a prop. He hasn’t been given any lines…can he speak? How old is he? Who’s his daddy? Was he conceived in the back of a van? Are his tiny arms a clue to some type of irregularity? Let’s have some backstory here! Robbie’s issues aside, I must admit that it’s a nice change to see Pvt. Winkerbean finally “at ease”.
Children’s Motrin: like Colt 45, it works every time. Robbie’s out like a light, and now Mom gets to enjoy a little “me” time. And we, the readers, are subjected to “TB time”, in which years either pass by in a day, or, more likely, a single day can last a week or more. Guess that slip of paper from Becky wasn’t a hit man’s phone number, but a web address. Gee: do you think it was anything to do with puppies?
A reader named Ray commented on an earlier post, and I thought it was worth “bumping” his comment to today’s post because it’s pretty astounding:
November 9, 2010 at 7:18 pm
If I had to guess, the “Funky Fedora” is being tipped to [Susan Cash, marketing manager of KSU Press, and Mickey Ciriello, owner of Luigi’s Restaurant in Akron] from when TB had his book signing for “The Other Shoe” at Luigi’s (in 2007). Seems like a long time has passed to offer said thanks, but who am I to judge?
A tip o’ the SoSF derby to you, Ray, for this mind-blowing bit of information! -TFH
Single mom Rache returns home to her tiny-handed little fella and tells him to get ready for dinner (“Awww, Mom, pizza again?”). She discovers the note from Becky that she’s thoughtlessly stuffed in her apron pocket. Her bleary eyes behold a scrawled phone number. Turns out Becky’s idea of helping Rachel “watch out for her ex-man” involves a hit man from Cuyahoga Falls who can make the job look like a suicide…