Mark Outsources His Man-Carrying Responsibilities at Rifle-Point

12/30/08

Swamp camouflage? "Fellows?" Is that all it takes to thwart a swarthy crew of blue-capped thugs? Guess so. The ginger must have seen this coming. He had today's date tattooed on his neck, for Christ's sake.

Will Mark really tie up this adventure's loose ends in less than a week? Ardent Trail enthusiasts who've suffered through never-ending sagas before may be reluctant to concur. Elrod has a tendency to build the tension very slowly, plow through the climax as quickly as he can, and languish in the denouement for a month. I picked my brain for some sort of real-world analogy that would capture the essence of how annoying this storytelling method truly is, but it doesn't seem necessary at this juncture. Let's see how this plays out.

NLR Holiday Wrap-Up: Mark Kicks a Guy in the Head Really Hard

12/29/08

Mark has somehow applied the perfect amount of force so as to disable his opponent without fracturing his skull or leaving him otherwise permanently impaired. The dude's shirt isn't even untucked. Judging by that look of twisted pleasure on Mark's face in panel one, however, that won't be the case for much longer. Not after he takes down Beard-o's compadres, anyway. Shit might get pretty weird at that point. Andy seems to approve.

Those henchmen seemed so optimistic last week. What happened? Now that the first major holiday of the season is behind us, a synopsis is in order. Let me take you back:

When we left, Pop had grown hopelessly exhausted from standing next to his swamp tractor and was reduced to leaning awkwardly on Sue. Little has changed in that department...

Fortunately for Sue, Mark stumbled upon this pathetic search party after misidentifying Pop's tractor, a theme that has become all too common in this saga...

Mark sums up his kidnappers' motivations with the spare eloquence and unfounded egotism befitting his profession...

A thug's prayer for a no-surprises encounter with Mark goes unanswered....

And Jack Elrod had no idea where Mark Trail was the entire time.

Pop, Suddenly Aware of his Shortcomings, Resorts to Guilt-Tripping

12/20/08



Do you remember that grade-school prank about cancer? Someone would casually mention a breakthrough scientific study proving that people whose hands were larger than their faces suffered from a rare type of cancer. When a gullible schoolchum would raise their hand to self-diagnose, bam, the perpetrator shoves the chum's hand deep into their face, and hilarity ensues. Sue would never fall for that prank -- she obviously doesn't have cancer.

All of that standing around by the swamp buggy has left Pop's face saggy and withered. His skull appears to be sloughing off the left side of his head. Undaunted by this turn of events, he opts to spend his last moments in the sentient world passive-aggressively reminding Sue of the lives that her corporate swamplust has destroyed.

Pop Finally Collapses Under the Weight of His Inefficacy

12/19/08

It's about time Pop's vulnerable side played out in this saga. We should've seen this coming when his pants blended in with his ride and his shirt turned whatever color "invisible" is. 

Pity is certainly not in order. His "tractors are swamp buggies/I'll gladly leave my friends unaccounted for in the wilderness overnight" ethos holds less water than his fading swamp. Constant massages are no way for Sue to overcome this unexpected melodrama. Fortunately for Mark, who oddly enough is the only person nearby whose situation merits any consideration at all, rangers may help.  It may be best for Sue to finish this rescue mission alone. But that will obviously never happen.  

Don't Make that Face at Us, Mark.

12/18/08

It's hard to tell if that really is Mark revising his escape plan in the first panel. He's got the preference for khakis. He's got that familiar pubic hair dangling off the middle of his head. It's gotta be Mark. It's just a little harder to tell than usual.

"Harder to tell than usual" is a common theme in every panel of this installment. It's hard to tell why dog tracks would indicate that Mark couldn't be too far away. It's even harder to gauge Sue's location or size in the third panel as she massages Pop on his so-so-busted tractor. Above all, it's hardest to tell when Pop will realize that time has erased every spark of physical and mental acuity in his fragile denim body. If I had to take a guess, that moment of clarity will come after he sticks a few more inches of hand into that sputtering engine.

Mark Braces Himself for a StupidSexy Encounter

12/17/08

Mark takes some time he doesn't have to ponder the obvious, while the number of Trail-hungry henchmen grows by the panel. Do the thugs have the grapes to bring Mark down, or will they let him slip out of their grasp again? Each side has a weakness that the other can exploit as the clock winds down on this convoluted epic.

To start, it's obvious that Mark's ridiculously boring personal narrative has jeopardized his animal alliances. Andy, Sneaky, and that omnipresent stork can only tolerate so much. For whatever reason, the turtles appear immune to the wild self-involved conjecture.

Do yourself a favor, Mark, and SHUT YOUR KHAKI-COVERED ASS UP. You're supposed to be a journalist. Journal it. Shit. I'm so pissed off right now that I won't even mention the prancing.

On the flip side, it's obvious from all of the contrived banter around the shrimp boat that the henchmen will hunt for Mark until the bitter end, unlikely facial hair or not. But the fact remains that if they don't do something about those ruffled crotches, these three are NEVER getting back in the game.



That guy in back might be able to help if his bearded friend would stop ghost-stroking his unruffled junk in the foreground. At this point, it's too soon to tell just how ruffled these crotches are going to get, but nothing would surprise me.

That's Not a Swamp Buggy, Pop. That's a Fucking Tractor. Come on Now.

12/16/08

I hate to throw out foul language so early in a posting, but Pop is such a lazy-ass syphilitic douchebag weirdo. Mark has been missing for nearly a full day in Trail time, which is like 10 years in reality. What's more, if Pop's creepy daughter is to be believed, Mark's actually related to the man. Now, after urgings from his wife, a dog, and some corporate bigwig that's actually working against Mark's interests, the best effort Pop can muster is some QT with the front-butted lady on a run-down tractor? Next time you want to show off a fancy swamp-related vehicle nobody's ever heard of, old man, make sure it's not a deadringer for the most iconic piece of farm equipment in the history of modern agriculture. God you suck.

It's a good thing Mark's a self-starter. Despite the outlandish international expectations he has for that shrimp boat he was imprisoned on, things seem to be shapping up real well for our woodsy hero. Thug No. 2 has returned to find Mark missing, and he's wasting his time with hurtful words that everybody's going to end up regretting. Sneaky reinlisted in the search at some point and now roams the swamplands with his one-time liberator. Andy is nowhere to be found. And, in the most unlikely twist of all, Mark is showing everyone what it means to run like a pervert. Good luck, bad guys. You're going to need a lot of swamp buggies to catch up with this train.