Airport Manager Dies in His Chair, Body Taken Away in Panel Three

Have a good weekend.

Mark Trail Can't Handle the Truth, Wet Paint Signs

In today's gripping strip, Mark attempts to match Airport Manager's Mr. Finch impression with a very mediocre Mr. Cruise, circa 1992. In Elrod's Court, the witness asks all the questions, the judge is a porcelain doll with no eyes, and the lawyer is a fucking fuck-head. Oh, and nothing is ever resolved.

Fortunately, our new friend, Adolescent Moose, has some sense and actually makes two proactive suggestions:
1. Find the people who raise game birds
2. Do so with Sam, not Mark
Good choice, AM. You and Sam can probably get some work done while Denzel ices his wrists.

Mark's New Desk-Perch Restricts Circulation to Wrists, Genitals

In today's strip, Airport Manager shows us not only a snippet of denim, but a shocking amount of cat-like agility: In just one panel, he cartwheels over his desk into his chair, buttons his blazer, straightens his tie, and crosses his legs just in time to hear Mark's quick response to the question posed in panel one: "I have no idea."

Sam remains quiet as her father and Mark compare belt buckles and repeat one another's comments. Perhaps she's been sniffing an extra-thick Sharpie, the same one she used as eyeliner three days ago.

Giving us his best Gregory Peck in panel three, Airport Manager can hardly believe that someone would want to endanger lives...Bird Lives, that is. And you're right, Atticus, there ARE some politicians who have been pushing the county to buy new airport property. Their names are Leo and Lawson, and they share your office Monday-Wednesday:

Startled Squirrel--Surprised?

That look of trembling awe in the first panel is not undeserved: Mark and Sam Sam Sam Sam have broken out a ringer late in the game, and its name is Unspecified Background Flora. UBF's efficient wrangling has put a quick end to this full-clothes rectal examination of an investigation, leaving the duo one step closer to the truth.

That would not stop Jack Elrod, however, from only taking the strip a half step closer, to that awkward, unremarkable point in time where Mark and Sam, sweating profusely from the lower armpits and breasts, respectively, burst in on Regional Airport Manager clad in a flannel one-sy. The cornerstone of a profound country was laid on this day 231 years ago, and Mark lets his bicep answer a softball question with boundless, belt-groping enthusiasm.

The eyes are the clear front-runner in Sammy Sam Sam explosionwatch 2007.

Mark and Sam Try to Fornicate, Miss by 40 Feet

Tired of hovering about the car and shouting at each other, Mark and Sam hit the backroads to locate clues and shout at each other. Sammy Samantha Sam Sam is looking oddly attractive in her mom jeans and magenta, button-challenged long sleeve, which might explain Mark's decision to air-hump the background in the first panel.

With the sexual tension eased by panel two, Mark and Sam actually unearth evidence pertinent to the case, despite Jack Elrod's baffling onomatopoeic device. Sam even makes a keen observation about the absurdity of this debacle in panel three. Something strange is in the air, and I'm not talking about that giant penis in the second panel.

It looks like these two might give the commissioners and their liege, Master Grey, a run for the money. The only thing left to wonder now is which part of Sam will explode first, her breasts or her eyes.

Logic Is Not Mark's Preferred Mistress

Things do not bode well for our detectively duo in the week's first installment of Airport Birdstrike Mania. Startled Squirrel picked up Mark and Sam's scent--probably reminiscent of Tag body spray and deer urine--and has darted off to inform the commissioners of the fruitless meddling.

The nervous sentinel's reaction seems to be a tad hasty. Sam is more inclined to avoid contractions and needlessly remind Mark of their location than tread 5 feet from the car to canvas the area for evidence. This leaves the deductive reasoning in the hands of her partner, who can do little more than muster the foregone conclusion that anybody releasing dozens of large birds used a truck, leaving local go-kart and airboat enthusiasts in the clear.

Sam's look of intrigue in panel three caps off an unintriguing day of inaction. While she could be pondering why she places so much faith in a dullard with a curly swath of hair taped to his forehead, she's probably mulling over the fate of her own cranium, the crown of which is sliding around precariously like some kind of top-heavy layer cake.

Variations on a Theme: Mark and Sam Wander in Circles

Mark finally returns to the airport's service roads to flush out the bird-sprinklers with a healthy Sam, who is bursting at the chin for revenge. Full-time followers of this birdstrike chronicle may be experiencing a profound sense of deja vu, and with good reason...

5/28/07



...the episode is nearly identical to this pre-birdstrike strip where Mark drives Sam off a cliff in his boxy car.

The differences between the strips are sullen reminders of the shit that has transpired since that carefree day in late May. Mark has opted for more headroom in his new ride to support Sam's expanded dialogue bubbles and swollen features, and the commissioners' sentry Startled Squirrel has been replaced with disinterested crony Wide-Eyed Weasel. It will be difficult for the duo to take advantage of the substitution, as Mark has dropped a couple of rungs on the evolutionary ladder by panel three.