With the recent irregularity here at TWIM, I’ve lost track of what exactly it is that The Troys do. I seem to recall that they were both linemen, maybe playing two ways at that? Furthermore, I don’t know if it was ever explained exactly what position John Pascoe plays although we did learn plenty about how his PTSD induced muteness came about. Assuming that they do play on the line, I’d be curious as to how exactly they’ve been keeping the Mudlarks in the game.
Turning our attention to panel 3, it seems clear that Gil has reached the ‘bright idea’ stage of getting his drink on and realized that he can use his gymnast (again, not really clear on what position he plays) to somersault over the line and into the endzone. I must say that this is a heckuva lot better than his earlier plan from yesterday where he was just going to keep having the QB run, and I quote, ”until his legs go numb.” Coming from the same guy who made his team run in the heat until they all got sick, this is pretty run of the mill of high school athletics sadism. With that in mind, it is my hope that Gil’s plan actually involves some rather more novel use of gymnastics technique to get a score. I’ll leave it to the commenters to speculate what that might be.
(Apologies for the quality of the strip image, I tried about three different things to fix it and then realized I was spending way too much time on this for my first post.)
So my first Friday post has Gil unraveling the mystery of why John doesnt speak. Looks like he was in a similar accident that the Mudlarks were in; but obviously the police in Johns area weren’t nearly as quick to the scene as the Milford police. 3 days in the snow would make anyone speechless. Meanwhile the football season rolls on into December as usual. Playoffs, anyone?
Quick questions before I hand off blogging to a plethora of volunteers:
When was the last time Gil was sober enough that we could actually see his pupils?
Ricozzi’s? This is what happens when you veer from celebrating at the Bucket!
And finally, a car rollover, eh…? Well once that happens, this is bound to happen, right?
I think I’m throwing in the towel. I don’t have the time or motivation to do this anymore. Thanks to everybody for reading and commenting and being part of the fun. Thanks to Jason for starting this thing. Thanks to Neal and Rodd. Keep it up. People seem to like your comic strip.
Here’s the draft I was working on:
Oh, hi Gil Thorp! I didn’t see you over there.
Tip Nunn is my new favorite Gil Thorp weirdo. He writes really lousy cheers. He’s a gymnast, and damned proud of it. He’s developed a secret non-verbal language with John Pascoe, his tight-lipped AP Biology lab partner.
Tip Nunn not only cheers with a bizarre sense of poetry, but his game with the ladies is epically inscrutable. “We’re gonna celebrate manliness, Angie. You can celibrate your ladyness, if you have that thing that the ladies have.”
Isn’t this AP Biology? When do we start dissecting the fetal pigs? What about owl pellets?
No, let’s just do some kind of high school Miracle Worker thing.
Welcome to Ass Pocket Theater. Please enjoy the geometrical oddities that appear in planar butt surfaces.
Big, scary, quiet John Pascoe. Funny guy. Good lab partner. Ethnically ambiguous.
Oh, no! That jerk Koy Nash is jerkin’ it up big time, picking on poor Shimura! (Seriously though Shimmy, invest in a backpack, or at least a Trapper Keeper.)
Tip Nunn to the rescue! (Thank you for appearing, Shimura.)
Um, excuse me, but that’s gymnast/cheerleader, Mr. Male Patterned Baldness.
Uh oh, imposing fist of doom in the foreground! Find out how to order Nunn v. Nash on pay per view.
Program note: I’ll be kickin’ it in New England for a week or so, going to a wedding, seeing the Feelies and stuff. I’ll be back in the middle of next week. Given the posting schedule of late, you’ll hardly notice.
Now Oakwood is on the move…until Omari Troy (apparently a Georgia-based criminal with an Atlanta Braves tattoo on his face) swats down a pass and Terry Gallagher slices through on a blitz….and gets a personal foul for a nut punch!
Hey Gil, lets stop trying to spread the ball around to all these guys. Poindexter Snordkin can’t hold onto the ball and Bismo Funyuns* keeps staring at that new weird cheerleader. Why don’t we just focus on power running behind the big, chirpy Troys.
Marty’s Mom better check the furnace in the basement. I Marty has been overpowered by fumes.
No, Tip. Just, no. (I actually remember sitting in the student section at Florida Field right in front of the cheerleaders and one of the male cheerleaders announced that they were trying out a new cheer which included the line “make them relinquish the ball”. It went over like a lead balloon. That cheerleader is now probably house minority leader in the Florida state legislature.)
You guys can dig into the archives if ya want, but I’m pretty sure Coach Tod never looked like Ming the Merciless.
*Bismo Funyuns borrowed without permission from Key & Peele, raising the stakes in the silly name game: