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.
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. ;-)
*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.
“Ordinary things take longer in the prison system… like showers.”
My first inclination today was to search to see if Ms. Rizk was staying on model (I’d say close enough). I was thinking that between her knowledge of the penal system and her approach to journalism, Ms. Rizk might not be her real name, and that she’s a refugee from the Federal Witness Protection Program. Then I noticed this strip in which Gil was ready to jump on Ms. Rizk and Dafne for thinking about writing about Ryan Van Auken. Where’s Gilberto now that these two have turned their attention to Barry Bader? Oh, that’s right, no one gives two shits for Barry.
Now what in tarhooties does Dafne think sending a letter to Del in the can is gonna accomplish? I’ll leave it to you, dear reader, to reach that conclusion. Maybe if she keeps up the convo and sends some pics along with the letter, the guys in Central State Pen will think Dafne’s Del’s girlfriend… kinda like Pee-Wee and Lou.
Oh, yeah, I guess that last panel is supposed to remind us that there’s still some kind of sports going on in Milford. Think we’ll ever see another softball game?
You better come out here and get this slugger. He just changed his launch angle and he’s hit four home runs in five games and he strikes out once in a while. His home run trot is so good that he has to ask his teammates if he needs to slow it down a little. All he does is adjust his launch angle a sixteenth of an inch, then gives the ball a ride, which leaves his bat looking like a little white bullet, over the fence by 40 feet, easy. He’s a big, 18- or 19-year-old fellow like I told you before (I think), and if you don’t hurry up someone will sign him and he will be the best sluggerer that ever lived. He hits harder than Elmer Vargas or Bryce Larkin ever did, and his hair is greasier than Andrew Gregory’s. He knows where he’s hitting because if he didn’t there would be dead bodies strewn all over Milford.
Oh, wait, scratch that. I was thinking of my second baseman’s old man. Anyway, get out here and check him out before he changes his mind and decides he wants to be a quarterback, or a fullback, or an astronaut or something. Gotta run – the local sports jock’s got a case of Johnnie Walker waiting for me for pulling his nuts out of the fire and saving his job.
Really? On June 1st, we have high school kids sitting around talking about the future of some dude who’s overstayed his welcome longer then Roseanne was on the air.
Does the balding guy really hit Kevin in the head with the check? Wish I could read some of it. A doctor couldnt write worse.
Again, its June 1st, and Kevin is THINKING about getting a scholarship, to what? AND GIL STILL THINKS ITS TOO EARLY!!! Yaaash. Its the colleges decision to AWARD a scholorship to Academically qualified students, emphasis on Academically. How on earth does this mope with a mop think just because he knows all that shit about launch angles all of a sudden he’s on his way to Arizona State and the College World Series for free?? How’s he doing in class? Who knows? I’m sure even he hasnt looked at a book since March, so busy rubbing his magic bat is he. I guess we’re stuck with this crap till August, because it’ll take that long to finish the season and Maybe, Maybe, graduate before Labor Day.
But we dont have to worry about Roseanne. As I mentioned before, her new show got cancelled, and I couldnt care less. I havent given a rats ass about her since that night in San Diego when she put on a singing performance for the ages. I didnt watch the first version of the show either; John Goodman was best known to me as The Babe in the worst movie ever made, and the daughter (who had the idea for the show revival) was kinda cute with her ripped jeans, but otherwise the show was non- existent in my world. But since she’s got more free time, how about singing the anthem at a Mudlarks game this summer? Couldnt be any worse then these storylines. A one, a two, a three….
… aand that would be in P2, but first we have an insensitive remark by Paul Beaudry in P1, basically saying good thing Barrys dad is safely in jail where he belongs. Who gives a crap about his life and how its affecting his family?
P2 has Dafne pondering – hey, maybe I care. But I dont care in the way I should – I care because I need to snoop around the Bader house as well as that smelly jail and get the lowdown on the whole backstory of the storyline we went through 2 years ago. And I’m gonna have my smokin hot body with my huge earrings and sleek hairstyle in as many panels as I can these next 2 months. And if that means Pelweki and his assinine launch angle crap is shoved down the nearest toilet asap, so be it. Matter of fact, I’d like to make the first flush. Hey, I’ll have one of the baseball players smash that bat he’s wielding right between his legs. Then when he’s explainin that crappola it will come out about 3 octaves higher.
And who cares if we never play a ballgame between the boys and girls- between me and Marjie Ducey we can carry this strip to June by ourselves and actually let the readers enjoy themselves for a change. Who needs all these other douchbags?
I’m liking this storyline; we have a dumb male, and a smart female; and the dumb male will only be filler for the smart females adventures in discovering the real reasons for what happened that fateful night 2 years ago when Boo Radley became the sad answer to a trivia question.
P1: No offense to his real world namesake intended, but I did not realize that we were really signing up for another tour with the Secret. Originally, I didn’t mind him too much but now it seems he’s gunning to be another Milford High huckster with this launch angle foolishness. How a calculator would figure into his scheme is beyond me.
P2: Nothing like sitting around talking about what people said for excitement and adventure. Are the two young women in back having to share a milk shake?
P3: Is there some sort of corollary to the Bechdel test where the female characters just sit there and watch the male characters talk? I know we keep hammering on that point but, c’mon, Whigrub didn’t even give them their own drinks nevermind dialogue. Regardless, I like that Freckles here answers the question of what is Barry’s story by telling Spike McWidow’s Peak* about his story and not, oh say, the story iteself. Oh well, tune in tomorrow when we revisit one of the more distasteful story arcs in some time.
* Wait, I just realized that’s supposed to be Jorge…
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