Poor Poor Pitiful Del

Abandoning analysis of the absurdities that let a high school student have a conjugal visit with meet and interview an inmate to whom she is not related, let’s focus on what’s being said instead.  Dafne’s casual side eye can only mean one thing: “Now I know where Barry gets it from.”  Nothing is ever the fault of Bader père et fils.

Del’s prison ‘do reminds me of someone else’s but I’m not sure whose. Anyone?  He started sporting a variation of it while he was in county lockup awaiting sentencing.  Del’s lawyer pretty much sucked there, but did clue Del in that he was most certainly not the victim.  So just what kind of bad publicity has Del been getting?  Has anyone else written about him in the Trumpet, the Milford Star, or the Industrial Solvent Sales Monthly?  Sandra Bader been badmouthing him in her Tinder profile?

Since Thursdays have become Rock ‘n Roll Thursdays here in TWIM land, the commentariat will appreciate the inspiration for today’s post.

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I Would Have Guessed That, At Some Point, A Permission Slip Of Some Sort Would Need To Have Been Signed

P1: Whatever Ms. Rizzkk is on probably needs to be dosed a little lower. The way she vacantly smiles while DD and (checks back to May 12th) Jay Bhatia discuss such weighty matters is disconcerting to say the least.

P2: Speaking of disconcerting, in a strip with a long history of poorly depicted high fives (seriously!), this one enters the canon and impels me to create a new category.

P3: Holy Shit! Someone tell Chief Linde to check the Bader family’s crawlspace!

Song that came to mind while writing today’s post:

D-D-D-Daffy and the Jets!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Hey, Kid, tryin’ to be important

Your writing stinks and your manners are impotent

Expected NY Times but we got a diaper rag!!!!!!!

I’m gonna grab the nearest KFC plastic barf bag!!!!!!!!!!

Oh, show ’em your license or you might not get out

Can’t separate you from his dad

D-D-D-Daffy and the Jets

Hope you like prison food

Oh, Daffy she’s a cheeky soul

She’s got an acid flair

And corn stalk hair

And a tattoo nestled right in her armpit

D-D-D-Daffy and the Jets!!!!!!!

timbuys, thanks for the intro. HEEEEEEEERRRRRRREEEEEE’SSSSSSS T. DREW!!!!!!! Seriously, the man has been VERY patient and understanding with me. We DEFINITELY need more like him.

Gang, what has happened to Ms. Rizk? Is this Invasion of the Body Snatchers VII(Okay, okay, 7, if you weren’t an exchange student in Latin)? Last year, Ms. Rizk was a nice-looking, svelte specimen topped off by a nifty ponytail. THIS YEAR, she evidently went the oral surgery cosmetic route at Milford General Hospital and came out of the lobby of the same place able to fit in with Jefferson Airplane. Did she raid the Milford Salvation Army drop box by Milford Men’s Clinic for hippie clothes? Got the beads at Milford Pawn Shop(she’s on a teacher’s salary, remember)? She might still have her zither in the closet next to back issues of the Milford Enquirer. Groovy, man.

THERE’S A DRIVE!!!!! DEEP TO LEFT FIELD!!!!!!! IT MIGHT BE!!!!!!!! IT COULD BE!!!!!!!! IT IS!!!!!!! Moose extends the lead with a towering shot!!!!!!! And Pelwhiskey sends one out to the Bleesher Bums!!!!! Boy o Boy, I hope nobody dropped their Budsh trying to cash that one.

“Harry, that’s Moose’s 15th of the year. Coach Shaw, the Cubs’ hitting coach, noticed a flaw in his swing. Moose’s elbow was down below his waistline, as if aiming for Lake Michigan. Coach Shaw had to convince him to take a level swing just like they taught you at Lakeview Optimist League 3rd Grade level. Moose fell into some bad habits and it was up to Coach Shaw to arise out of the ivy and set him straight.”

Harry, feeling horny, is about to show his inebriety rearing its ugly head

“Moos-EEEEE, Moose Pel-WHISKEY, HITTER WITHOUT A FEAR!!!!!!!”

“Moos-EEEEE, Moose Pel-WHISKEY,  BETTER THAN SOSA THISH YEAR!!!!!”

Arne Harris, the producer, rolls his eyes at the manhandling of “Davy Crockett” and covers his ears under the table

“Moos-EEEEE, Moose Pel-WHISKEY, HOPE HE DON’T CRAP IN MY BEEEEEEERRRRRR!!!!!!!!”

“Harry, I think you lost your Close ‘n’ Play voice at your 7th Bud.”

“Aw, Shteve, you jusht don’t appresheate a good tenor when you hear one. I was in the Shaint Louish Choral Shasigh-ity between my 2nd and 3rd wife. And after 6 inningsh, ish the Cubsh, 8, the Piratesh, 2.”

Heard off-mike

“Arne, you can out from under the sound board. Harry took a pee-pee behind the bullpen”

At the Thorp household on Father’s Day

“Thank you for that nice tie, Keri. And Jaime, I appreciate your spending all your allowance to get me that Old Spice Tarzan Scent Cologne. In fact, all the gifts were wonderful.”

“Hold it, Darling. Here’s one more.”

“Really, Mimi, you’ve been generous already. The scuba gear and snorkel in the Mudlark’s team colors was terrific. Me and Kaz can go underwater trout-fishing at Mudlark Lake and spear a rainbow or two or snag a catfish on his bad day. Man, that’ll be some good eatin’. And the argyle socks and chalcedony pipe from Milford Tobacco & Confectionary couldn’t be better.”

“Ah, but I have a special gift for you that will make us both happy.”

Gil, eying said box in Mimi’s hand, is curious what an orange rectangular box with a chartreuse bow could contain. He already received a pipe. And tobacco usually doesn’t come in small shoeboxes. Nevertheless, to please Mimi and keep their 30+ year marriage going strong and thusly, the 60 year strip alive and kickin’ to boot, he obliges and rips the wrapping paper from said orange box to see what it is.

Taking the lid off

“What’s this?”

A $500 gift card from Milford Men’s Clinic.

“Well, uh, er, thanks, Mimi, that was sure sweet of you. There’s been a couple things in their catalog I’ve been wanting to get and now I can get ’em. And I won’t have to use my Visa Gold to pay” masking his curiosity/disappointment.

“And they’re even throwing in a free 100-tablet bottle of testosterone so when we go to bed at night, your train will have a little extra diesel in the tank.”

“I always thought I was the Little Train That Could. When I see you in that negligee, I’m always saying “I think I can, I think I can, I think I can…”

As Mimi gets more sexy-talkee but sounding like Bert and Ernie to throw off the kids

“Yes, but now that little itty-bitty trainee can get over Mount Everest and just zoomie!!!!!!!!!! zoomie!!!!!!!!!! zoomie!!!!!!!!! into Grand Central Station. Petticoat Junction never felt better as long as you washee downee 1 pill before bedtime with a dwinkee of water. Can’t dwinkee Nestlé’s Quik, that’s a no-no.”

“Mommy, are you saying Daddy doesn’t know how to drive a train? They always stay on the track. Did Daddy get caught for drunk-driving? Is that why the Milford & Oakwood Express crashed into the Milford Adult Shoppe?”

“No, Honey, it’s just that sometimes the conductor needs to shovel an extra couple of scoops of coal in the fire and he’ll be comin’ “round the mountain with 6 white horses, the train right behind, whistling “God Bless America”. Oh, the pleasure Mommy will feel feel when those horses win by a nose at the Kentucky Derby.”

“But Daddy, you don’t look sick. Mommy, why don’t we take him to the Milford
Minor Emergency Center? The doctor can stick the thermometer in his mouth if he has a fever.”

“Keri, it’s OK. Daddy isn’t sick. I won’t need a thermometer for this one. Mommy means well and is only trying to help.”

“But what’s wrong, Daddy?”

“How do you answer that one? I could have told her the truth but I never discuss my affairs in bed with ANYONE, let alone my own kids. The birds and the bees would come at a later time. To try to explain to my daughter, in one of our many nature walks through Milford Woods, that that tanager finch in that elm tree has Erectile Dysfunction could literally fly over her head. I knew I had to use that gift card and pump up my sex life. And, boy, am I doing just that. I took a testosterone tablet, washed it down with Evian Kiwi Lime Water, and I could tell the difference. A pin-up of Josie & The Pussycats got me harder than Plymouth Rock. And Mimi told me the other day that I breed better than a horse. Shoot, it’s nice knowing that if I were a stud, I’d have a lineage of Triple Crown Winners. What a great feeling that I could outperform Mr. Ed in another life!!!! BTW, I used the remaining $20 on my gift card to buy some rubber toys. Waste not, want not, I always say. Now Mimi’s rubber ducky has friends to play with in the bathtub and Mimi’s feelin’ fine. All from one pill and a glass of tap water from my Moen faucet. But don’t take my word for it. Come on down to the Milford Men’s Clinic and see for yourself. What do you men have to lose but your virginity?

Hey, Kid, acting like Drew Dandey

Acting like a jerk, fielding like Pez Candy

Never know what might come around

I’d bet my money on the Lemon Heads wrapper on the ground

Oh, Barry is eternally stuck to his age

And the log table won’t be found

B-B-B-Barry and the Jets!!!!!!!

You and Moose are in an ego race

Oh, Barry, I think he’ll win

He’s got an attitude

Zits multitudes

He needs Oxy-5 for his face and his mindset

B-B-B-Barry and the Jets!!!!!!!

P1: “I recommend the new Norelco XL251 Triple Blade Action Razor. If you want to get the scouts’ attention at the combine, you gotta look like Hare Krishna. Can hit for power and field a ton. You’ll wow ’em with those credentials. A contract with the Toledo Mud Hens is in the bag. Gotta start somewhere.”

And since when has Moose started suddenly being Bader’s evil twin? Yeah, you flip the ledger and you get the same result. Bader has at least stuck to the sport and has had several moments fielding and hitting. Even won a game or 2 in the process. Moose has had a Slinky of a career, never sure if it’s going down the steps or in the heating duct by the stairwell wall. Yeah he leads the Conference in home runs and is carving a niche. But notice the gerund. Moose, Heather’s not there this time if you get into a slump. Better choose your words, or sport, carefully before talking to Marjie. Otherwise, you’ll put your foot in your mouth when you’re 28 attempting to explain to Marjie why you think you belong in the Milford Lanes Bowling Hall of Fame even you couldn’t pick up the 7-10 split because you had poor launch angle on the gutter ball.

At Milford Ball Park one afternoon

“OKAY, MUDLARKS, LEMME HEAR YOU, GOOD ‘N’ LOUD!!!!!!!! Take me out to the ball game, take me out to the crowwwwwdddddd…….

… AT THE OL’ BALL GAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMEEEEEE!!!!!!!!! COME ON, MUDLARKS, LETS!!!!! GET!!!!!! SOME!!!!!!!! RUNS!!!!!!!!!!”

“I’ve been running down Coach T for 60 years but I doubt I will be doing the same thing when I’m 139 years old. I’ll either retire to Antarctica or retire here in the WDIG booth. Life expectancy in a comic strip is not all peaches ‘n’ cream. Just ask Smidgens.

Is your family covered in case you die or will you get phased by Peanuts, Featuring Good ol’ Charlie Brown? Are there payments to make on cars, houses, garage roof repairs, college tuition, etc.? Who would pay them? I don”t know about you but Peaches would be clueless should I die in an accident and Biff and Gonzo are knocking at her door, demanding payment on the bundle I lost at the roulette wheel in somebody’s basement on the other side of town. I don’t want her wearing concrete shoes at the bottom of Mudlark Lake.

That’s why I took out a policy at Milford Mutual. It pays a lump sum of $250,000 plus Accident and Dismemberment Insurance good for up to $100,000. I have peace of mind knowing Peaches is financially covered should Biff and Gonzo get the wrong house and she’s confined to ICU at Milford General.

And if Peaches was running around on me as I suspected she had been for years and tries to go behind my back with that shotgun wedding, there’s a Trust Fund for her children if unfortunate circumstances get the better of the day. For pennies a day, a $200,000 Beneficiary Policy comes in handy. Since a legal guardian is required to monitor the Trust Fund, Milford Mutual supplies a trustee appointed by the Milford Circuit Court at no extra cost to you. Thank goodness, because I was worried that Peaches might have to make an appearance on Judge Judy. i’d rather not see Peaches get bitched at for 1/2 an hour.

See your Milford Mutual agent today. Your policy is waiting. Come and get it before Coach T. gets a hold of it and runs it and his players into another losing campaign. Your money and the players deserve better.”

Gang, fire away. I feel like I’m on The Chopping Block trying to get this out. Let me get past the First Round anyway. I promise i’ll make a better egg plant souffle ‘n’ Oreo Cookies next time.

Taking It Out On Madison

Don’t you just love it when the first panel on Monday morning basically repeats the the narrative of the last panel on Saturday? It’s okay. There’s lots of weekend in between, we’ve got plenty of space to tell the story and we need another gorgeous Pelwecki close-up. Those flowing locks, those Sharpied eyebrows, that generic blandness. It’s a gift, really.

Now that we’ve established Kevin’s propensity for asking a stupid question, it’s time for Gil to shine with a snappy answer (shout out to Mad magazine).

Kevin, your limited skill set has very low market value. If you can perform at a high level in other ways, I’ve yet to see it. Also, you’re just wandering around in school in a baseball uniform and that seems like a red flag. Madison? Oh yeah, it’s almost Madison time!

What was I just saying about how much space we have to tell this story? Sorry, no room for any actual Madison time*. Just time for a post game wrap up with Marjie. Do we know Marjie’s height? If Kevin is barely taller than Marjie and she’s anything under six feet, there’s yet another knock on Pelwecki’s recruiting appeal.

*On TWIM, there’s always room for Madison time. Also, in yet another attempt to show that we care just a little bit, I created a Madison Time tag and applied it retrospectively.

Wham!
 

 

I Missed the Sign

Today’s strip is just three panels of “Kevin Pelwecki, the most clueless kid at Milford High.”  Where was Pelwecki last year when The Hurricane blew in from Kingsbrook and the girls from Central showed up with signs? We know they were on the field together at least once (no, make that twice) so it’s not like Kevin couldn’t have been aware of Ryan’s talent… or his reputation. Van Auken might have been going to anger management classes instead of those camps.

Finally, what sequence of events sends Pelwecki into Gil’s office in full uniform, getting all pissy about the attention Ryan got from one college?  Again, has he forgotten about the talent Van Auken showed before he got to Milford and since, and how he’s only turned serious attention to baseball in the past few weeks?

The Real Kevin Pelwecki, if you’re out there reading this, I hope you didn’t cheese Rubin off too badly IRL.  Your character deserves better. ;-)

 

Granville?? U gotta be jokin.

Yeah this is a first – – kids still going to school the day after Flag Day, also known as Donald Trumps birthday.

https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=5&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0ahUKEwjahb7q6NbbAhVkxoMKHZTfA50QqUMIQTAE&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.ndtv.com%2Fworld-news%2Fto-get-donald-trumps-attention-how-his-family-friends-wished-him-on-birthday-1867823&usg=AOvVaw3hhgl-AwJpKAW6ajqiTWej

At least she’s wearing short sleeves to class. She’ll need a longer number when she gets to prison. Guess thats our summer storyline.. Jaquan Case can relax. Of course everyone else can do this on their summer vacation, but here at Milford we have no such luxuries. Summer lasts as long as a roll in the hay in this precinct.

And our man Pelwecki gets Paged.. to tell him he got a letter?? To where?? What happened to the US Postal Service?? As an employee for 30 years there, I’m a bit ashamed.

Granville U. does not exist. Denison University does. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Denison_University

Denison is located in Granville Ohio. So thats who’s interested in this mope? The acceptance rate for the class of 2022 was 34%, so Kevin is already a favorite to be, as Keith Hernandez said in the Bud Lite commercial – REJECTED! But I guess you gotta start somewhere. But I dont think Denison will be on my TV in the College World Series anytime soon, and neither will KP. His initials refer to what he is truly qualified for – Kitchen Police. My dad told me that one from his Army days. By the way, Happy Fathers Day,  Dad, in heaven. And all the dads too!

Correction: Orange Is the New Dafonte*

*and how many times have I relied on the “Orange Is the New Black” trope? Don’t ask.

Does anyone know how to lay the bases out at Valley Tech?  The outside edge of the bag goes along the baseline with the rest of the bag in fair territory, not the inside of the bag with the rest in foul territory.  Never mind that: does that field have no foul territory or what?  I wonder how many kids hurt themselves chasing after foul balls and falling over that parapet in front of the dugout.  No matter, visiting players shouldn’t swing from the dugout roof.

Valley Tech’s messed up ball field pales in comparison to today’s big reveal: Dafne Dafonte was the second driver!  How else would she be going to prison and seeing Del?   Oh wait, prisons aren’t co-ed?  Never mind.  My head spins with the crazy schemes Dafne could’ve cooked up to make this happen.  Maybe she secretly lusted after True Standish, wanted Boo Radley killed off and, disguised as Shelly from Selasky’s Supper Club, got Del Bader drunk so he would cause death.  Hey, it’s not that much more far-fetched than the idea of Del agreeing to speak to some nosy kid from his son’s high school’s newspaper in order to somehow clear his name.

Meanwhile, another Trumpet staffer, having picked up one of Holly Dobbs’ left-behind wigs, amuses herself with some newfound gadgetry.  Photography/videography buffs, help me out please: isn’t she wearing a steadicam harness?  Are those designed to work with 1960s-era film cameras like the one she’s holding?

metapost: Ned, Tim and the rest of the TWIM community have taken this blog to another level this week.  Here’s hoping I can keep it up.  Thanks to all for keeping this a going concern.

 

Coaches Want Travelers And Campers

P1: About College ball… You’ve never come across as the scholarly type, so why not try out for the Central City Boxmakers? They play exhibition games for beer money and seem about on your level. Last I heard, Slim Chance was picking up cleanup innings in between gigs at local county fairs.

P2: Besides, coaches want kids who have enriched them over the years through the provision of free (amateur) labor and camp tuition. They especially like it when they’ve had the chance to groom these kids away from their parents. Then again, if anyone on the team could use some groomin’… Maybe at least buy you a scrunchy or something.

P3: And after an almost interminable lecture on the walk from the locker room to the field, none of this gets through to Kevin. I’m going to have to assume that Kaz has some bluetooth buds plugged in and is jamming out to the greatest hits the early twenty-first century has to offer.

Bonus Points: I award none today.