November 13th, 2007


Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Sorry for the delay; even after five years in Tennessee I'm still mentally on central time, and can't believe Conan starts after midnight.

Anyway, here we go.

Panel 1: Michael attempts to wake a swollen-eyed Elly, who peers blearily at her son, wondering if the clashing colors and patterns of his outfit are real, or if she's still feeling the effects of the acid she took last night (as sadly, the realization that Michael is there for good has made her turn to drugs).

Panel 2: Elly rolls over and tells a suddenly tubbier Michael to get himself a glass of milk. Michael appears to be rocking a five o'clock shadow.

Panel 3: Michael hollers that he will be late for school and that Liz is "soaking wet," implying that he went through the trouble of reaching into the crib and checking his sister's diaper, the better to guilt trip his mother into getting up to attend to his whims. Elly sports a sudden black eye and fakes dysentery.

Panel 4: Actually, Elly, if you were wide awake you'd realize that your son was treating you like his maid and prancing around with his nose in the air. Sure, she needs to get up. But that doesn't make Michael the new boss. How is he treating her like a five-year-old, anyway? By forcing her to attend to her responsibilities? That's certainly not how they treat him, at least in the new non-improved hybrid.

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Panel 1: Michael puts his head on the body of a twelve-year-old in order to play a prank on his mother, who is reading a magazine.

Panel 2: Michael detaches his head and shoulders from the rest of his body, floats over, and screams, "YAAAH" and Elly is so startled that her right armpit wets itself.

Panel 3: Elly tells Michael never to sneak up on her like that again. I can guarantee you that following a reaction like that with no punishment and a polite request will ensure that Michael will do that again. And I don't even have kids. Elly's left shirt sleeve has lost half its stripes.

Panel 4: Michael rests one arm on the table and half-closes his eyes when delivering the punchline. He looks like he's chatting her up at a bar. Clock him, Elly! That'll make this whole week worthwhile.