Somebody's About to Get Punnnnched.....

12/11/08

After languishing for days in a boring world dominated by hypothetical saviors and flabby dogs, Jack Elrod wraps up this adventure the only way he knows how -- by insulting our intelligence. No need for a well-layered escape plan here, Andy. Just hop pointlessly over that small box and you're only a few ropes away from leaving Sinister Stork's Super-Sinister Shrimp Boat forever.

Unconcerned about waking his captors', Mark expresses his gratitude with a traditional Elrod-ian scream, the preferred method of communication for any Trail-related encounter. Readers unaccustomed to so many emphatic statements may have trouble relating, but the rules of the game are relatively simple. If you are Mark Trail and you find yourself

A) jumping to dubious conclusions about what little girls are anxious to see

B) diffusing sexual tension by talking like a robot with down syndrome

or

C) pointing out someone's unlawfulness as you physically assault them

then you have the green light to yell as loudly as you want.

The guards certainly didn't heighten the degree of difficulty for Mark's escape, but in their defense, that Pelican did say he was going to give them their share of the kidnapping money in a couple of hours, not a couple of days. You gotta sleep sometime.

Mark Trail has clearly regained the leverage in this affair. The question now is how will he use it. Expect punching. Lots and lots of punching.

Andy Makes It to the Shrimp Boat

12/10/08

Exhausted from an all-night pursuit, Andy takes cover behind a tree and some unusual-colored swamp fronds to better assess his friend's state of captivity. Mark is still alive but certainly worse for wear, having aged several years over the last 12 hours ("Forever 32" my ass). His frumpiness levels appear to be off the charts as well. Looks like Andy arrived just in the nick of time. We're all so grateful, there's no point in questioning the shrimp boaters' decision to stop at a dock only dog-wandering distance from their point of origin.

Opportunity has opened a door for Mark but closed a window for Pop, who's down to his last plausible excuse for not searching for his comrade-in-khakis. It seems unlikely that a Type-A'er like Sue (she of the reverse bottom) will procrastinate for any length of time.

Enjoy the moment while you can, Pop. Soon you'll have to leave your random cabin on the edge of a dying swamp and venture 3 or 4 miles by vehicle to the shrimp boat, arriving just in time to see an unbound Mark punch his way to freedom.

No Need to Strain Yourself, Andy.

12/6/2008

Andy has picked up Mark's familar odor of Tag Body Spray and deer urine, but his lope turns into a lurching, sickly crawl in a matter of one panel. This could get really ugly, which is ridiculous, because things around here are ugly enough as is.

Damn, Andy, pick up the pace. Heinous Heron is keeping an eye on you, and he's not impressed. Neither are we.