The intertwining-dialog-balloon gimmick was interesting on Monday; don’t beat it to death, TB.
To the astonishment of absolutely no one, Wally’s icebox is empty, except for leftover pizza and “Beer”. Rachel remembered the ice cream but forgot to include milk in her pic-a-nic basket, so now “we’ll” have to go to…gasp!…the supermarket! Wally looks scared (of course). Is it the prospect of a daylight sortie to the neighborhood Giant Eagle…or is it the sight of Rachel’s “hatchet butt”?
Yes. Yes, you do.
So it’s neither a suitcase nor a massage table: it’s a portfolio of her “art”. Open the blinds, Mole Man, and feast your squinties on some etchings.
Rachel’s “cute” stock is sent plummeting by her Wynonna Judd-lookin’ profile in panel 1.
“I like it dark…” Maybe that’s what Les should tell Susan! (rimshot!)
Little Red Riding Hood has arrived with her basket o’ goodies and…a suitcase…at Big Bad Wally Wolf’s doorstep. Looks like once again, she’s not taking no for an answer. Sure is dark in that apartment.
Would Wally know what a “staycation” was? It’s a fairly recent term, and in the fourteen months since he was sprung from an Iraqi hellhole, he hasn’t exactly immersed himself back into civilian life.
Today’s post title is courtesy of Ralph Kramden.
Turns out Wally’s fine with crowds, just as long as he can observe them from a quarter-mile away and has plenty of fried pickles! Good job, Rache!
I’d feel a lot better about this “ending”, though, if TB hadn’t gone and posted on his blog these strips, dated next November, where Rachel is still trying to get Wally to deal with re-entering civilian life.
Son of Stuck Funky 
