Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Tuesday's Dispatch from the Front

September 29, 2009

Panel 1:Wow, Bob is good at lying!

Panel 2:What exactly is Mark supposed to be doing in this picture, harvesting cotton?

Panel 3:"Or, maybe they just beat you senseless because you looked like you deserve it...which you do."

September 28, 2009

Panel 1:"Thank God!"

Panel 2:"Blargh! Christ, Rusty, couldn't you warn me next time. I thought you were some sort of hideously deformed troll leaping out of the trees."

Panel 3:Speaking of hideously deformed, check out the skeletal claw that Mark is putting on Rusty's shoulder.

September 26, 2009

Panel 1:Unless Mark wandered into the ink spray of the giant land squid, the dark shadows on Mark's shirt suggest that Jackelrod Sphere has identified a highly unlikely light source for Mark in this panel.

Panel 2:"If I flap my arms hard enough, maybe I'll fly straight to Rusty!"

Panel 3:I don't know Mark, that's one seedy looking sphere lurking around Rusty's tent.

Saturday, September 26, 2009

A Message for Ace Buttockio

Happy Birthday! Here's hoping that you don't spend today unconscious in a wetland getting fondled by a platinum blond poacher, in an abandoned fishing lodge yapped at by a misshapen hyena-pig, or in some far-off forest getting gored by a jealous buck!

Friday, September 25, 2009

Mark Rogers Bob...mentally.

Panel 1:I'm guessing that the Jackelrod Sphere wasn't able to draw Mark rubbing the back of his head where Sideburns McFacialhair actually whacked him the stick. So, instead, we get this picture, wherein Mark's incongruously large right arm rests on his remarkably feminine left leg as he massages his temple. That, or Mark is making an awkward attempt to appear fetching to the man who only just recently finished stroking Mark's back.

Panel 2:Mark stares meaningfully into Bob's eyes...what is this gay porn?

Panel 3:That was an uncomfortable interlude just then. Thank goodness we were saved by the arrival of the giant turtle being piloted by a slightly-less-giant dragon fly.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Big man, tiny gator?

September 24, 2009

Panel 1:Christ, the perspective in this panel is fucked up. If the alligator is, in fact, "big" then it's going to be about 12 to 14 feet long. Using that as a guide, this panel suggests that Mark Trail is about 20 feet tall. Nice work Jackelrod Sphere!

Panel 2:Yes, Bob, and stroking him gently should aid his recovery even more.

Panel 3:Well, that, or jerking him around and yelling at him...

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

It's like Evil Dead, but only not evil and merely unconscious.

September 23, 2009

Panel Zero:I think now is a good time to point out the profound power that Mark Trail stores away in his Right Fist O' Justice (and possibly elsewhere). Any normal person, left to die, unconscious, next to a swamp teeming with alligators would probably just lie there and die. Not Mark Trail. In Panel 1, he's just lying there, his feet mere inches from the perilous waters. By Panel 2, his unconscious body has miraculously moved atleast the length of a healthy, adult alligator. Perhaps the Fist was pulling him along?

September 22, 2009

Panel 1:Yeah, you definitely want those alligators to digest ever last bit of Mark Trail before killing them and leaving their skinless corpses to rot in the swamp. No need to risk having a game warden cut open a poached alligator, discover a mysterious androgynous torso (and possibly some tiny appendages), and commence a homicide investigation.

Panel 2:Redemption! I always knew Bob had a heart of gold.

Panel 3: Didn't? Or don't?

September 21, 2009

Panel 1:Well, there's one obvious danger of dressing like a wildlife ranger....people think you're a wildlife danger. If Mark had been wearing a floral print Hawaiian shirt, I bet Sideburns McFacialhair would have thought twice about bashing him in the head.

Panel 2:Oh Bob, how quickly we have fallen.

Friday, September 11, 2009

Playing catchup and almost there!

September 19, 2009

Panel 1:I see Sideburns McFacialhair has switched a more lethal weapon than a big stick. Good for him.

Panel 2:Bob, next time you talk to your stylist, you might ask him to dye your eyebrows, too. Otherwise, folks will know you're not a natural blond.

Panel 3:Bob's concern for Mark's health was certainly short-lived.

September 18, 2009

Panel 1:Nah, don't sweat it. A baseball bat to the back of the head? He'll be up in no time.

Panel 2:I see that alligator got into Rusty's "special grass."

September 17, 2009

Panel 1:WHAT?!?!? What can you see Mark?!?!?!

Panel 2:Oh. A red pashmina. Cool.

Panel 3:I'm afraid those action lines don't give us much clarity here. Did Sideburns McFacialhair just whack Mark on the back of the head with enough force to crush his skull, or did he whiff right over the top of his well-coiffed head?

September 16, 2009

Panel 1:Better buckle those pants, too, Mark.

Panel 2:Christ, another gigantic fucking bird. What kind of fucked up swamp is this?

September 15, 2009

Panel 1:Those two look just a little too happy in that picture.

Panel 2:"I'd better mop up this mess before I go out and check on it!"

Panel 3:Hmm...yes, because there's nothing more sensible than chasing down armed poachers in the middle of the night dressed in your ivory whites and ecrus.

September 14, 2009

Panel 1:"And I'll tie Sassy to that tree over there by the water."

Panel 2:"And be sure to put more of that special grass on the fire, too, Mark. You wouldn't happen to have a bag of marshmallows lying around, would you? A loaf of bread? Dry spaghetti? Fuck it. I'll just eat Sassy."

Panel 3:Why is Rusty draped in what appears to be the intestines of a very large cetacean?

September 12, 2009

Panel 1:"Of course, they'll never be able to find me, because my invisible feet don't leave foot prints. You, on the other hand, Mark, are screwed...even feet as small as yours are likely to leave footprints."

Panel 2:"And Rusty, here's a lesson you should never forget: I am the law."

September 11, 2009

Panel 1:"But, not just any old hook trap. My hook trap. I knew Sassy would come in handy one day!"

Panel 2:"Fortunately, Victorinox makes a Swiss Army knife small enough to fit my tiny hands! I just hope it can cut through the braided yarn I used to catch that beast!"

Panel 3:Apparently, they also dress all in beige sometimes, as well.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Quick and dirty.

September 10, 2009

Panel 1:I've got nuthin'.

Panel 2:Hard to say, but judging from the picture, Sassy is about to become the angriest dog in the world.

Panel 3:"The skinless, rotting corpse of a poached alligator. Awesome!"

September 9, 2009

Panel 1:Clean what? Is this another disgusting NAMBLA induction ritual that you're proposing Mark?

Panel 2:Judging from the tension on Rusty's line, I'd say yes.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Tickle, tickle

September 8, 2009

Panel 1:An admirable sentiment and one I cannot find anything to snark about...damn.

Panel 2:Damn straight, Bob. I don't have a cite for you, but I'm certain there's a law against flipping alligators on their back and tickling them with butter knives.

Panel 3:"Or, in your case, Bob, not working in the mill. You unemployed loser."

UPDATE: Aw, fuck. I just checked in at the Comic Curmudgeon and it turns out that Josh made basically the same joke for panel 2 today as I did...only earlier. Oh well, just letting y'all know I didn't cob from him.

September 7, 2009

Panel 1:You're really helping the kid there, Mark. Perhaps you should mention the gigantic mutated sucker-men who sneak up on campsites after dark and use their octopus arms to suck the lifeblood out of unsuspecting campers. That should really calm the Elf down.

Panel 2:Christ Almighty. I swear the Elf gets uglier every time the Jackelrod Sphere gives us a close-up.

Panel 3:Generally, it means someone just pulled a trigger.

September 5, 2009

Panel 1:"Otherwise, you're likely going to step in a pile of giant racoon shit. And let me tell you, that's no treat after they've been feasting on bivalves and cypress bark."

Panel 2:Maybe, maybe not, the real question here is what in the hell are you holding under your arm?

Friday, September 4, 2009

Or maybe the Virgin Mary...

September 4, 2009

Panel 1: Um, can anyone tell me what it is that Seth Rogen there is supposed to be pointing at. A map? A photo? A giant tortilla with the face of Jesus in it? It can't be a USGS quad, because even with a 20 foot contour interval, that would be one hilly fucking swamp.

Panel 2: You know, I think we're starting to see the outlines of a plot here. Lots of alligators, alligator poachers, a good-hearted rural rustic with an employment issue, and Mark Trail with his Right Fist O' Justice. Ladies and germs, throw in one hyena pig as bait (and I mean really heave it in there so the alligators have something to fight over) and suddenly it seems like we might be in for a real hootenanny.

Panel 3: Hell, if I were Rusty, I'd be on the lookout for irritated comic bloggers seeking to launch that yappy vag (and his dog) into the gaping maw of the nearest crocadilian.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

A litany of excuses

Apologies to all for the late posting. Wife and baby have been sick, and I've had no time to catch up on Mark's latest "adventures."

September 3, 2009

Panel 1:Mark may be many things, but I would never, ever apply the term "old goat" to him. It implies a number of appellations which cannot conceivably ever apply to Mark Trail, including: horniness, age, wisdom, facial hair, a giant nut sack.

Panel 2:"And yes, Rusty is a gigantic vag for naming his dog (or possibly his mutant hyena-pig...I'm never really sure) something so overtly vag-arific as "Sassy." And when you hear that coming from a genderless boy-wonder like myself, you know it's serious."

Panel 3:You couldn't just call and ask?

September 2, 2009

Panel 1:"They're here..."

Panel 2:"Um...Mary...the TV just ate our child."

Panel 3:"You stay here in the tree."

September 1, 2009

Panel 1:"Of course, we'll be forced to feed you to the alligators so you don't blab on us, but really, what's a little death among friends?"

Panel 2:I'm confused, is Bob concerned that poaching is a felony that can land you in jail, or is Bob confused that poaching might piss of his wife?

August 31, 2009

Panel 1:Having stood up to count himself out, Bob returns to his log. Having stood up with Bob so he wouldn't feel lonely up there by himself, Mr. S-L-S returns to his prone position.

Panel 2:Hmmm... yes, that's quite the dilemma. It's a shame there's no possible way you could ever hunt alligators legally.

Panel 3:"Yeah, if you poach an alligator you could be convicted of a 'crocadilian related violation' and that's a one-way ticket to the slammer!"

August 29, 2009

Panel 1:"Of course, given the choice between looking for more mill work and lounging around in the swamp, we prefer to lounge around in the swamp."

Panel 2:You know, Mr. Suspiciously-Long-Sideburns, if you got off your dead ass and stood up, you'd only be up to your shins in alligators.

Panel 3:Oh, Bob, you silly boy, you're so cute and innocent.

August 28, 2009

Panel 1:Little shit. Just rub it in a little more for your poor dad that he's an unemployed loser who can't provide for his family.

Panel 2:Wow, very Zen Bob, very Zen.

Panel 3:"You have three tries to guess what it is we're thinking. And here's a hint: It doesn't involve cowboy boots, massage oil, and a 10" monkey wrench."