But who will fill the pending Glory hole in the staff?

5/30/11

5/31/11

While it’s been alluded to for weeks (months? years? decades? It feels like decades…), the setup for the latest plot development is now being clubbed over our heads*…

OK, we get it, Alpo likes folk singing, fighting for important causes and especially that new assistant coach… You know, the one who seems to show interest in coaching  only her. When the Glorious Alpaca is one of two budget cuts later this week (along with that recently tenured baking soda volcano science project) , whatever will happen next? I just request that the inevitable benefit be called “Save My Glory…Whole Lotta Love!”

A bigger mystery is whether Mimi make an appearance in June when her assistant is laid off? Or will she stay “home sick” for another month?

*Remember when the clubbing over the head happened literally? That was more fun.

Saturday In The Park, Think I’m Gonna Go To The Y

5/28/2011

Wow. You look awful.

I wouldn’t talk if I were wearing a plus-sized Sumo diaper.

Oh, you’re referring to my mawashi?

Ease up, Traceeee, this scene is expository for me. You get bupkiss, so if you make a mawoozit in your diaper, sobeit. Traceeee.

Ease up, Alpo.

Looka here, Freckles McDroopydrawers, I’m worried about the plight of the teachers!

Oh yeah, I know all about your worry for Coach Alpaca and her bifurcated hoof…and I’ve seen her watching you take grounders. The other day I heard her muttering, “grass on the infield, play ball.” I don’t think you’ve got her so much worried for you as bothered, as in hot and.

Eeww, gross, Traceee, just because you don’t get to do anything in this strip doesn’t mean you have to be so snarky.

Yeah, whatever, I’m gonna go see if Micah Huang wants to  help me pack some fudge squares for the picnic tomorrow. Smell you later, Purina.

Later…….

Hey coach Alpaca, do you like my T-shirt and the very disturbing shelf that my boobs are making inside it?

Check this out, Kibbles and Bits, my ass is likely out the door since that wack-job Hobart is spewing all his jibba jabba, so I’m just going to cut to the chase. I’ve sent the rest of the team to the mall. I’m going to be down in the dugout wearing nothing but some carefully altered sliding shorts with a dental dam at the ready. I’m gonna teach you how to do it like a shortstop from Elon.

But Coach Glory, I was going to write a song about the plight of the teachers.

Okay, well maybe later I’ll break out some of my Ferron and Holly Near records.

Oh yeah, what’s their deal?

Come with me and I’ll school ya, kid.

The Teflon Boozehound

5/26/11

Hmmm, Gil doesn’t give a shit about talk of possible layoffs? Shocker! Then again, if he hasn’t lost his job by never making the playdowns, having weird old men and janitors do his coaching for him, and most recently frequenting bars rife with underage drinking where his assistant physically threatened anybody who looked or smelled funny, it’s not like he’s going to lose his job. EVER.

5/27/11

On the other hand, Plot 37G of the spring indicates Mama Alpo will be getting the axe. Maybe once she’s unemployed, Gil will find her in the gutter and bring her on as a coach.

Have to work with Gil? Take the easy way out.

5/24/11

Hey school administrator guy: When the ugly town idiots are all riled up, you know what to do? Just tell ‘em it’s not the teachers’ fault. Tell ‘em someone else much scarier is to blame, like the one-eyed underwater ghost of Osama Bin Laden, or Justin Bieber. What’s the worst that could happen then?

Exactly. No down side.

5/25/11

The teachers in Milford do have a lot to legitimately complain about:

1. Only one chair in the teachers’ lounge.
2. Having to work with Gil.
3. Odd rule requiring them to all use personalized mugs.
4. No non-ugliness prerequisite.
5. Having to work with Gil.
6. Being forced to listen to Freckles’ stupid Detroit alarm clock story for the 3,000th time.
7. Annual bonfire torches school to the ground every damn September.
8. Having to work well into July each year. With Gil.

No wonder eight Milford teachers over the past three years have taken the Bieber route, going down in a blaze of glorious bullets. (Not to mention the two Thorp children who did the same thing.)

Milford School Bored

We interrupt an uninteresting conversation between two random people we care nothing about (one possibly named Sonya Whitelips), to bring you…an uninteresting Milford School Board meeting!

Until today, I was convinced that there was no such thing as a “Milford School Board.” But there it is in all its glory: Fifteen feet of particle board, classy two-foot tall Chicago font, worthy of hanging in any curtained handball court, or possibly for use in a ginormous first generation iPod. The $15,000 those fat-cat teachers spent on such a huge sign was totally worth it…Now even though Phil is late to the meeting and didn’t get a chair, he knows he’s made it to the right handball court.

The only two people not there? Why, the Thorps of course. Gil, still tuning out anything that would require him to go to a non-alcohol-related event, and Mimi, MIA for weeks and presumed playing her version of handball with the pool boy. Man, I wish I was a Thorp…this meeting could last for days.

Two Strips, Four Locations, No Clue

5/20/11

We interrupt  this baseball game to quickly get you over to the WAFER CHUTE (all food comes in wafer form, delivered to your table by an ingenious system of chutes) where it looks like Hobart continues to plot the elimination of the teachers’ union, forever. How many people are sitting with Hobart? Is Hobart wearing a dark suit or a light suit? It’s hard to figure out who’s saying what and whose ex wife is a scamming teacher so, really, just ease up Rubin and Whigham and at least sort out who’s holding the coffee cup with a freak finger (is it a tiny cup or a huge finger? why don’t they have a chute for the coffee?).

5/21/11

So on to two more sets of people saying stuff. We have the teachers, those fat cats with their lavish salaries and their fancy insurance and all their evil scams (coffee fund, my ass!) We also have two other people who are drinking coffee and looking at stacks of paper and taking calls. Who are they and how did they get that shine on their table, is Steve Luhm interning at their office/secret lair?

Where’s the fashion police when ya need ‘em?

5/18/11

So yesterday’s Goshen “cops” (who I am belatedly convinced got their uniforms from Arrested Development‘s Gob) shut down this “bar”,  for “underage drinking” eh? Looking at everyone’s costumes, perhaps the Bottom Dollar should have also been shut down by the Fashion Police (aka Lini Verde). Everything from Gil’s turtleneck/white jacket nightmare to Buzz Marco’s buttonless westernwear is an arrestable offense. And the less said about Slim’s Indianapolis Colts cheerleader outfit the better.

Kaz may be legitimately pissed that Slim’s getting shafted on payment, but I’m positive Gil is just grumpy about losing his buzz and confused about his throbbing urges for Goshen three-sport stripper cops.

5/19/11

So Kaz continues to solve problems the way only Kaz can…by throwing his muscle around, impersonating whoever he damn well feels like, and intimidating skanky bar patrons and owners alike. Way to set an example for the kids, Kaz! The Longshots will be happy to get that $2 after you take your new band manager 90% cut. Maybe you can use the money to have your barbwire arm tattoos inked back on.

Up next: Gil trawls downtown Goshen for a 6 drink minimum bar (“Sorry, Mimi, they told me I had to have a half dozen, or the local stripper cops were going to frisk me again!”)

Gil is just excited because he gets all the leftover beer…

5/16/11

This potential conflict would be awesome if something were to come out of it…but unless those Wonder Woman bracelets that Horseface McSkoal-Bandit is sporting can repel Kaz Fists o’ Justice (TM)*, it doesn’t appear there’s gonna be any sort of rumble. Besides, Meth-head McRedneck is missing enough teeth and brain cells that a royal ass-whupping by Kaz wouldn’t even make a difference, really.

*Note: Nothing can repel Kaz Fist o’ Justice (TM).

5/17/11

And now,  because you can’t stick with one plot for more than a few minutes, how about…a police raid at the speakeasy! (Starring everyone’s favorite new character, Officer Gus “Unnecessary” Exposition!)

Gus: Hello, I’m now going to announce who you are, Coach Thorp from Milford, in case you forgot.
Gil: Wait…who am I?
Gus: Did you know I played three sports here, inside the Bottom Dollar?
Gil: Do beer pong and flip cup count as sports? If so, I’ve played two sports tonight myself. Oh and don’t arrest the lead singer, he’s my drinking buddy.
Gus: No problem, Coach Thorp from Milford. We’re just here to haul away the ugly meth-head rednecks.
Ugly Meth-Head Redneck: Join the century, will ya, pig! <is tased to death. Audience applauds uproariously.>