Enter the enemy.

So it would seem that Angelorious has less than noble intentions for this perfume.  (What did I tell you about trusting characters with strange eyes?)  This is indeed an unexpected development, but I welcome it gladly since I wasn't too keen on learning about the intricacies of the world of door-to-door perfume salesmanship.  (I sold Girl Scout cookies, environmentally themed t-shirts, and chocolate.  I know how to go to people I don't know and ask them to buy things.)  With this development comes the promise of a new foe: the mysterious Driller (no doubt part of some mining operation, or something to do with oil because Angelorious has to get the supplies for her slicked back look from somewhere).  I only hope that this revelation isn't coming too late as Angelorious seems to be getting sucked into a black hole (or she's some sort of clone/monster created from a substance that is beginning to break down).

Wait...what?

Looks like you were too late getting back.  (Those little buggers must fly faster than I thought, or they have some sort of teleportation device, or teeny tiny headsets.)  Now we've got the beginning of a great misunderstanding that will no doubt end in Mark being taken hostage and held at gunpoint (that, or Ken will make sure that when a tree falls in the forest, it will hit Mark, and no one will hear it make a sound.)  I guess from Ken's point of view it looks like Mark is embracing Patty, sort of, but only if you ignore his little camera instruction and the fact that he isn't embracing her.  Still, I guess it's enough to set Ken off, and does it ever set him off.  (Kind of makes putting on that nifty bolo tie a wast of time, doesn't it?  Though I suppose that you could use it as some sort of weapon, so maybe it isn't such a waste after all.)  I mean, look, he's so angry that even his fist is smoking with rage.  (Okay, I realize that the "smoke" is actually a horse, but from a distance, it really looks like smoke.)  I only hope that the Jack Elrod Ball notices Ken's presence in time to alert Mark since it's apparent that Patty and Bucky aren't going to do anything.

I still own every CD I ever purchased.

If I listened to every song I own, I wouldn't hear a repeat for 15 days, 7 hours, and 12 minutes.

(And yet I have been listening to the same album over and over again for three days now.)

Because I'm me, that's why.

Last week I bought a book that I should probably be less excited about than I actually am, and after you find out what it is, you may agree with me.  Now, before I tell you what this book is, I must first explain that I had been trying to decide whether or not to buy it for some time, ever since it appeared on the bargain shelves for a quarter of the original price.  The indecision took place for a couple of weeks and included the days leading up to Christmas.  (Before you say anything about someone getting it for me, I must say that it was not on the list and nowhere near anyone who would buy it for me.)  In all of that time, not a trip to the book store occurred without me having to look at it, thumb through it, and decide that I wanted it, but that I didn't really want to spend the money to buy it.  I tried to rationalize it by thinking, "Hey, Christmas is coming.  I'll get some money then and use it to buy this book.  Then all will be right with the world, and I won't feel guilty."  That was where I had left things, convinced that I would return to the store after Christmas and pick up the little dear.  Little did I know that I was wrong.

Christmas came and went, and with it came the expected monetary contribution to my wallet.  Shortly after coming back into town, I went to the bookstore, walked over to the shelves, and saw that the book was gone, and not only was it gone, but it had taken its four or five identical siblings with it.  It was then that I felt remorse for not getting it before Christmas.  It was then that I realized that yes, I had really wanted that book and all of the plans I had had for it were now smashed into unrecognizable pieces never to be put back together again.  I also had to admit that I only had myself to blame for my lack of possession.  (I also wondered why all five copies had been sold in the days leading up to Christmas since at the time no one seemed to have been remotely interested in them.)  Still, I did not want to give up, but as time passed, I began to lose hope.

Weeks after Christmas I was still kicking myself for not buying it, and weeks after Christmas I was still trying to remain hopeful.  I found myself continuing to cruise the bargain shelves every time I went into the store, hoping that the book would be there, ready to jump out and yell, "Surprise!  Take me home!"  Each time it was still gone, and soon I began to resign myself to fate, telling myself that it was just another one of those things that I'd let slip away, that there would be other books, and not to dwell.  Still, none of those words kept me from making careful examinations of the shelves, hoping against hope that I had somehow missed it, or that someone had returned a copy and that that copy was waiting especially for me.  

Then last week, everything changed.  I went to the bookstore, I cruised the bargain shelves, and there, sitting in the exact same spot that it had been when I had seen it last, was the book and its siblings.  I swear it seemed to say, "What took you so long?  Well, are you going to take me home or not?"  So I picked up the book, I flipped through the pages, and all the while I probably had a stupid grin on my face like I'd just won the lottery (and had there been no one in the vicinity I probably would have hugged the book and jumped up and down).  I quickly decided that today was the day and the book never left my hands as I cruised the rest of the store, paid for it, and left.  Now what, you may ask, is this wonderful book, this book that created this tale of regret, lost love, and joyous reunion?  It is Ship: The Epic Story Of Maritime Adventure, and it cost a whopping $10.00.  (Yes, you read that correctly.  All this for a $10.00 book.  I know, I'm a nerd.  I don't care.  I love this book, and I will read this book, and I will use the information within this book to better myself.)

Clever little devils.

Looks like Patty is finally realizing that her home is not the right place for a deer.  I'm also glad to see that she's not just going to drive him to an isolated stretch of road and push him out of her truck or car, but is actually going to seek professional help (though really, did we expect anything else from a Mark Trail comic?).  And yet, I am still concerned because of the sudden appearance of the chickadees, known high-ranking members of the Avian Empire.  (What, you think that you can roll around in the dirt and come flying in and think that I won't see right through your disguise?  Wrong again, my friends, wrong again.)  
Be careful, Patty, I don't like the look of that chickadee.  I think that he's going to fly back to your house and chirp little lies into Ken's ear, making him madder and madder until he finally cracks.  (What did you expect from the Avians?  They'll either let you join them or manipulate you for their own devious purposes, and if they see you as a threat, they'll do everything they can to get rid of you.)  I think that you should get yourself back home before something bad happens, and maybe you should consider taking Mark with you just to make sure that there's a witness if something does happen.

What's your sign?

If you've never experienced the wonderment of Harvey Sid Fischer's Astrology Songs, I recommend that you rectify that immediately (the dances for some of them alone are enough to justify doing it), and if you happen to get them stuck in your head, don't blame me, I didn't make you press play.

Spin, spin, spin.

And so it begins.  Oh Angelorious, I know that an exploding perfume sounds exciting and is definitely an attention grabber, but still, it explodes.  I don't know how many people are going to want to buy, much less apply, anything that risks destroying everything that they've worked for, or collected, over the course of their lives.  Maybe if you could get Dr. Noll to figure out how to only have a tiny explosion that didn't do any damage, you might be able to convince people to buy it.  Still, I would think that there have to be laws about this sort of thing.  (It also sounds like the sort of thing a villain would collect huge amounts of just so that they could hold a city hostage.)

I don't think that Dick is too thrilled about any of this, though at the moment he seems more concerned about the extra work that he might have to do to get this product up and running as it will surely cut into his turtleneck time.  (Plus there's that whole crime-fighting aspect of his life that doesn't seem to have regular hours.)  Then there are all of the legal ramifications of selling, or having your name attached, to an exploding perfume.  Dick's made a lot of enemies over the years, and while a good many of them seem to be dead, there are always henchmen and hired goons who are looking to get revenge for their fallen masters.  (Still, maybe he's just going along with it because it's helping to take Tess's mind off of her T-Rex arms.  If you look at it that way, he's being supportive, even if his support could mean they're all going to go to jail.)

(And as for the name of the perfume, Love Fire?  Really?  Is that the best you could do?  I guess I'm not the target for it because hearing the name is making me laugh.  Angelorious, I think that you can do better than that if you really tried.)

Movie Moments XVII: The Government Edition

Because I don't want to talk about how I really felt about the endless hours of inauguration coverage (though I thought that the extended shot of a closed door and the back of an idling car was especially nice) of which I watched less than an hour (but it was the most important hour and it was not to be missed), it's time to journey back to that galaxy far, far away.  (I swear, I'm going to choose a different movie soon, but this one just has so much potential material in it.)  Regardless of how you felt about the prequels, they did bring with them some genuinely classic moments (that may be only classic to me), and here I bring you two of them (because it would be pointless to divide them, and they would get lonely if they were apart).

The first occurs during The Phantom Menace when Governor Sio Bibble and Viceroy Nute Gunray are talking as they walk through the halls of the Naboo palace.  (Well, actually, Bibble is the only one walking.  Gunray has that neat chair with legs doing all the walking for him.)  It is during this conversation, while Gunray is being the "You have no hope.  Give up now," henchman/villian, that Bibble says, "We are a Democracy," to which Gunray replies, "Tuck him away."  What makes the scene is Gunray's light wave of the hand as he says it, making it seem as though he's swatting a fly away from the potato salad at a picnic.  

The second half of this two part moment comes during The Attack Of The Clones (the title of which always makes me want to break into a rousing rendition of "Send In The Clones").  It occurs after things start to head downhill and it becomes apparent that they're going to need that clone army and that they're going to have to grant the Emp-, I mean, Chancellor special powers.  It is during that special session of the Senate that Palpatine utters the words, "I love Democracy."  Now, whenever I hear that, I can't help but add "I love to crush it beneath my heel and grind it into dust."  If they cut out most of the other Senate scenes I wouldn't care, but if this one was taken away, that would just be sad and I don't know that I'd want to watch the movie any more.  (Well, maybe not since I also like the end where you can just see the two Crimson Guardsmen standing in the background behind the Senators as they watch the ships take off, not calling attention to themselves, but just letting you know that they're there, and that they'll be back.)

C, M, P, D, A

These are the letters most likely to be chosen for the final puzzle on Wheel of Fortune.

Somehow, knowing this takes some of the suspense out of the game and makes it a little less enjoyable.

(And yes, I know that you only get three consonants unless you've got the Wild Card.)

I knew that it couldn't last.

I knew that it was only a matter of time before whatever sympathy I had for Ken was thrown out the window.  Truth be told, it started to happen yesterday when he threw that innocent dish into the fire shortly after Mark and Cherry left.  All in all, I'm not surprised by Ken's actions.  I think that it has something to do with the fact that he's had the same angry, "I'm going to kill you and all of your family" look on his face since he first appeared in the comic.  Now, I can understand that he'd be upset about Bucky being inside of the house.  Heck, I would be too, what with all of the little parasites and such that could be riding around on the little guy, but I wouldn't have blown up so completely, and I wouldn't have hit anyone for it.  That slap was the clincher and I hope that you get slapped yourself, Mr. Ken, but only by Mark, and with his fist. 

He's all confused now.

Are you sure that this is a good idea?  The guy just blew up his home and now you're inviting him into yours?  I mean, I get the whole "Be a good neighbor," thing, but you have to draw the line somewhere.  It's not like the house just happened to blow up because he accidentally left a light on, or there was a previously unknown gas leak that found itself a spark.  No, Dr. Noll was mixing chemicals in his lab (probably located in the basement) and ended up blowing the doors and windows out of the house and filling it with smoke.  If I were you, I'd keep an eye on my chemicals.  He might get a flash of brilliance and try to experiment in the bathtub and then you won't have a house either.  Still, I guess if you're going to be business partners, letting him stay at your place while his is being either rebuilt or fixed up is the right thing to do.

And yes, Dr. Noll, it would be wise to keep your formulas straight.  I don't care how good the stuff smells, if you blow up people's homes with it, you're not going to get any repeat business and word of mouth will surely spread.  Plus, as previously stated, if you perfume the entire tri-state area, people aren't going to want to buy it when the smell finally fades away.
Now Dick's sleuthing skills are starting to kick into gear.  Sure, he doesn't use perfume, but Tess does, so it's safe to say that he's had some experience with it, and therefore all of the little red flags are finally starting to go up.  Yes, perfume is supposed to smell, but it's not supposed to gas you (though some people may cause you to think otherwise), and it certainly isn't supposed to explode.  I mean, that's just bad for business all around.  I just hope that the smell fades away before everyone starts to get sick from it because then you'll get that delightful nauseating smell that can only come from the combined forces of perfume and vomit.  We'll just have to wait and see whether Dick decides to shut down this little operation right off the bat, or if he decides to go along for the ride because he's already invested too many strips in it to give up now.  

(And shouldn't our friend from the CIA be heading over here?  I would think that a mysterious home explosion caused by perfume would be the most likely place to track down a guy known for causing explosions, but that could just be me.) 

One deer, two deer.

Patty, Patty, Patty.  I don't know what kind of sympathy you're going to get from Mark since he is well acquainted with the laws of the forest and generally seems want what's best for the animals.  I think that the best you can probably hope for is that Bucky gets sent to some sort of nature preserve where he can learn to stop being a pet deer and start being a real deer, unless there's something that you haven't told us yet. 
Ah, now I see the real problem.  You aren't just keeping the deer in some sort of barn or sheltered area outside, you're keeping him indoors like you would a cat or dog (perhaps you should consider getting one of those.  I hear Saint Bernards are nice).  You see, Patty, deer were never meant to live in of houses.  They just have too many problems navigating doorways with their antlers.  Plus, if you let one in, then you have to let the whole herd in as well.  Let me tell you this, my dear Patty: deer multiply.  The following pictures taken over the space of a few minutes will clearly show why it's a bad idea to continue keeping darling little Bucky indoors.
Okay, not too bad.  Seems that the deer has brought along a friend today.  Two isn't that much of a...wait a minute.  I could be wrong, but I think there's a third one coming up the hill.
Yup, there he is, and you know that you can't just let in the original two without having to let in the third (unless you have no heart and can ignore doe eyes through your window).
Uh oh.  Don't look now, but two more have showed up, and those are just the ones we can see.  Now it's absolutely clear that there just isn't enough room for everyone inside, and so you see, Patty, you cannot let a single deer into your home because no matter how long you've known the creature, one day it will show up with friends, and by the time you notice them, it will already be too late.  (You know, suddenly I'm feeling a little bad for Ken, though I'm sure that that will change.)

They're real, I tell you!

When I was younger, I had a marmoset jungle.  In fact, I had two.  Now, some people would argue that that was impossible since there are no wild marmosets in Michigan, much less ones that live in the tall grasses and brush that made up the brush pile or the area around the light pole, but I tell you that they were there.  I can't say for certain whether the two colonies knew about each other though, and truth be told, the group in the brush pile seemed to be of the migratory sort and weren't always there.  I believe they spent much of their time in the big gnarled tree down the road, which is where I would have set up shop had I been a marmoset.  I suppose that the marmosets around the light pole were also of the migratory type as the forest would be periodically mowed down to nothing, but at times like those I liked to think that they either just climbed up the pole and waited for things to grow back, or that they moved to the area beside the barn, which provided them with a similar environment, though one with far less sun.

Now, I'm sure you're asking yourselves, why, of all animals, did I decide that they were marmosets?  Well, there's a very simple answer: Sesame Street and the Marmoset Song.  That's why they were there.  That's how I thought of them in the first place, and yes, I did sing the song while I looked around the jungle, so if you're going to blame someone for my geographically incorrect marmoset jungles, blame Sesame Street, but without it I'd never have had a marmoset jungle in the first place (or learned so many ways to count to twelve, but that's a subject for another time).

Eureka!

From the fine folks at the Mad Science Club, who gave you the Disposable Roadster, room temperature fire, and Can-O-Man, comes the latest innovation in fragrance technology: The Sweet Smell of Failure.  (I will not even mention that at one time they had considered using the phrase "It's the bomb!" to entice people to try it.)

So this is how the world is introduced to the Dick Tracy toiletries line?  An explosion and a sweet smelling smoke?  I'm not sure that this is going to make a lot of money since that smoke is surely going to attach itself to everyone and everything in the tri-state area, making purchasing it unnecessary, and by the time the smell has faded, I'm not so sure that people won't be so sick of it that they'll never want to smell it again.  (That, and people tend to not like to smell the things they associate with destruction.)  Angelorious sure has her work cut out for her now.  Somehow she has to turn this explosion around and make people actually want to buy something they'll forever associate with chaos and destruction.

I refuse to go there.

Look who's back.  It's Mark!  (I guess the swamp story is over, even though Peter was never found out to have been the one behind Mark's kidnapping, and Rabbit was never captured.  Oh well.)  

Now it's time to begin an exciting story featuring Patty (and a deer?).  It seems that after Patty left the cabin in a hurry, Mark and Cherry decided to ride over to her house to find out what was wrong.  (I guess Patty lives in the forest or something because horses are generally frowned upon on the major highways unless they're in trailers.)  It would have been nice of Mark to have informed Cherry that he suspected a blizzard was on the way so that she could have worn a heavy coat like his instead of her fringed cowgirl jacket, but maybe Mark is suffering from jet lag, or fever induced chills.  It could be a balmy sixty-five degrees out there.  We just don't know.

And now we are introduced to another character who's sure to play a major part in this story: the mysterious Ken, husband of Patty (who may or may not be cheating on her with a woman named Barbara.  Sorry.)  But wait, there's more!  Patty seems to be friends with Bambi (or some other random deer).  Now, before your mind starts going into the gutter, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that what you're witnessing is the forest animals stepping in to assist Patty with her possible Avian problem.  The deer could also be a pet she nursed back to health long ago and has continued a friendship with, or even one of Santa's reindeer.  At this point, we just don't know.  Still, I don't know what she's so worried about, unless its deer season and Ken has a hankering for some venison.  We'll just have to wait and see where this one goes (if it's going to go anywhere at all.)

Got any feldspar?

When it started sounding like a rock tumbler, I knew my CD player was on its last legs.

Help!

Jeans in a dryer always sound like they're trying to escape.

I saw your video.

The studio is your friend.

The stage is not.

Think happy thoughts.

You know, if I was going to be trapped on a doomed cruise ship where the company has gone bankrupt shortly after setting sail, most of the crew is nowhere to be seen, and the ship is heading straight for international waters where who knows what will happen, I'd want to make sure the lifeboat that would be my home for who knows how many days at sea had a cheery disposition.  (I bet it even plays "Keep On The Sunny Side" while you're rowing away.)  Way to take a vacation Rex, Sarah, and June!  (You're getting to be as bad as the cast of Baywatch, who, by the way, I will never share a plane or cruise ship with, even if it means taking a later flight or missing out on a once in a lifetime trip.)

First they think. Then they betray.

Be careful Frank.  Your thought balloons betray you.  It's just a short step from idly floating in the background to taking over your mind.  I know that we all thought it was a cute trick when the balloon showed that it could have its own thoughts in an earlier comic, but remember, everyone thought that Gizmo was cute too, until Stripe and the other Mogwai started showing up.

He smells like motor oil and coffee, and you can too!

Well look what we have here.  It's the latest thorn in Dick Tracy's side: Angelorious, marketing expert and interested party in the Dick Tracy toiletries line because for some reason both men and women want to use what Dick Tracy uses (even if he's never actually used the stuff and has no plans to use it ever).  Needless to say, Dick doesn't look too happy to see her (I told you he should have made his escape when he had the chance), and now it seems that he's destined to become swept up in all of the toiletries madness (even though I thought that they were only going to be selling perfume, and if you're just selling perfume door-to-door, do you really need a marketing expert?  Wouldn't a cheery disposition, a good product, and comfortable shoes be better?).

As for Angelorious, there are three reasons why I don't trust her.  The first is that she has a cone shaped head.  That can only mean that she's some sort of alien and that whatever this perfume (or whatever it is) is, that it's really some sort of tenderizer or flavor enhancer so that when the rest of her people come to Earth for The Great Feast, all they'll have to do is pop people into the giant oven.  The second is that she appears to have no eyeballs.  We've already dealt with someone like this before, and I hope that the excitement of Dick's robot adventure hasn't made him forget about his run-in with Shirl.  The third reason is that Angelorious' smile is just too darn big and I half expect her to try to sell the Tracys a junk car or a timeshare by the end of the strip.  There's also the issue that it looks like she's wearing a mouth guard, which means that at any moment she could start swinging, putting Tess, who's still suffering the effects of T-Rex arms, at a significant disadvantage.  (I'd also watch out for those earrings.  They could be grenades.  I need to stop watching so many action movies.)  We'll just have to wait and see what Angelorious' true motives are.  The only thing that I can say for certain is that I'm going to get really tired of typing Angelorious before this is all over.

And just in case you hadn't already put the pieces together as to who this explosion prone man that Diet and the CIA man were talking about, we see Professor Noll (or is it Dr. Noll?) run into a little trouble with some chemicals, but I say let's not be too hasty about that WHOOM.  For all we know, the good doctor was making a very large paper mache volcano in his basement for the science fair and this was just the result of him mixing the vinegar with the baking soda (that, or he decided to try out the Mentos/Diet Coke experiment for himself, but wasn't content to settle for a single bottle trial and instead bought out the entire stock of both at the local grocery store).

A new crisis looms on the horizon.

And so it would seem that a new story is about to begin, even though we haven't really wrapped up that business with Rabbit (but at least Shelly told Mark that her company was letting the water back into the swamp and that they'd decided not to develop it after all.  Nice move there Shelly, but it still won't win Mark's heart.  That belongs to Cherry.).

And since Mark is out of town, it's up to Cherry to kick this story off.  Luckily, it all begins with a visit from her friend Patty (who just so happens to be wearing a pink shirt, which makes me think that if you're a woman, a prerequisite to even exist in this universe is to own one).  It seems that Patty has gotten herself into a little trouble (and someday we might even find out what that trouble is) and has turned to her dear friend in the forest for help because it somehow involves animals.  One thing is for certain though, Wise Old Owl seems to be taking a particular interest in it, so you know that whatever trouble Patty's in, she's in it pretty deep.  (Could she have run afoul of the Avians, having mistakenly taken advantage of what she thought was hospitality or generosity only to find out that what she was given has come at a price she can't possibly hope to repay?)

Today is the day after yesterday,

And yesterday didn't go so well.

The Mount Vernon Chickens.

It rained that day.  

I fancy they were not impressed.

I thought page 156 was bad.

Then I read 157.

Thanks, but I think I'll stick with Escher.

While going on my yearly hunt for a calendar or two (or three), I was struck by two things.  The first is that after New Years, the calendar selection starts to get pretty picked over.  The second is that I'm not sure why someone would buy a calendar centered around a politician, no matter how much they like them.  Twelve months is a long time and quite an investment.  (What do you do if you get angry at them?  Draw mustaches, scars, and eye patches?  What if you later change your mind and fall back in love?  What do you do then?)  Personally, I don't think that I could take a year of catch phrases and fake smiles.  I guess that's why I've stuck with the wonders of the world, this day in history, and M.C. Escher.

More random thoughts about Snuggies.

1. Is using a regular blanket really that much of a hassle?
2. Won't the Snuggie look funny if you use it like a blanket?  (You can't curl up underneath it, and what if you end up with your legs going through the arm holes?)
3. Do you have to hang it up in the closet when you're not using it, or does it fold up to look like a real blanket?
4. If you wear it like a coat/shirt/robe, and use it like a coat/shirt/robe, then will you have to wash it as often as you do a coat/shirt/robe, and how well does it fit in the washing machine?  (I know that I wouldn't want to wear something covered in crumbs or accidental spills.)
5. The red ones look like the Stone Cutters' robes from The Simpsons (and knowing me, I'd end up singing the song every time I wore one).
6. You could rig up a quick Halloween costume by sewing up the back.
7. If you wore it backwards you could pretend you were a long ago, faded film star, or royalty (but if that's the case, you'd probably want to put some sort of trim on the edges so that people would know, and you'd need a crown).
8. How easy is it to walk around wearing one?  (Would it fall off, or would you have to pick it up like a skirt and carry it around, which would make bringing your snack back to the couch quite the challenge, or would you just have to put it on backwards?)
9. You could make a cocoon by wearing two at the same time (one backwards and one forwards).
10. I will never wear one to a sporting event.  (That's what blankets, layers, and long underwear are for.  That, and it's part of the viewing experience to be cold.  It makes cheering that much more necessary because you're not just supporting your team, you're keeping yourself alive.)

(After much consideration, I think that I'll just stick with blankets.  Those I can turn into capes suitable for fighting crime at a moment's notice.)

Join us.

I'm sure they're warm.  I'm sure that if I tried one, I'd love it.  I'm sure that I can't bring myself to buy one because every time I see the ad on television I can only think one thing: "Look, it's the Cult Of Snuggie."

But don't fret, for everyone has a place in the new order (though some places are clearly better than others, but that seems to be the case in any society).  So before you rashly choose your Snuggie by what color you like the most, take a moment to consider just what those colors mean and where your selection will place you in society.  First we have the Red Robes.  These are the robes of the leaders.  They're the ones who are in control.  They are the chosen few who take their places on the High Council that governs all.  They make the rules.  They enforce the rules.  And woe be to anyone who goes against the rules.  Then there are the Green Robes.  Fewer in number, these special few are the Oracles and High Priests, guiding the people's beliefs and spreading the word of Snuggie to the masses.  They lead the people in the great ceremonies and will guide the followers of Snuggie to their ultimate reward: a life of warmth and comfort.  Finally, there are the Blue Robes.  Numerous and necessary, these are the laborers and craftsmen who create the tools, buildings, and infrastructure needed by the Reds and Greens to create their perfect world.  Without them, there is no cause.  Without them, there can be no new world, no new tomorrow.  

These are but some of the thoughts that go through my head when I see the ad.  Yet for all of this, for the inevitable fear that this group will one day come to power and we will be subdued by the warm, soft fleece of compliance, the strange thing is that I kind of want one of them, but I don't want to become one of them.  

(I think that I might need to lay off of the Twilight Zone episodes for a while.)

Turn to page 35.

Phone trees are a lot like Choose Your Own Adventure books.

Sometimes you get a good ending.

Sometimes your call dies.

And sometimes you go through every possible combination just to see what your options are.

Ummm, she's right there.

Hey everyone, Tess' dark-haired doppelganger is at the door, and look who she's brought with her: the Tess Tracy Ventriloquist Dummy!  (And it can be yours for only five easy payments of $999,999.99.  What a bargain!)  If I were Dick, I'd seriously consider moving.  This is turning into one very strange neighborhood.  All of the women look alike and now the mad scientists are moving in, bringing new meaning to the phrase "There goes the neighborhood."  Still, if you're going to stay (and with the great schools, who could blame you?), I'd say that it's time to either adopt an alter ego and begin a life of crime-fighting in a mask, cape, and spandex suit, or find yourself a minion/sidekick to do your bidding.  (Say, where's TRAZE-R when you really need him?  He'd fit right in here.)  On the plus side, you probably won't have to go far from home to fight crime.  You can probably do it when you go out to get the mail or morning paper.  (Now that's service!)

Oh yeah, we go way back.

Looks like Mark moved his ragtag group to the ranger station and turned Salty, Sour, and Joe over to the proper authorities (though I don't know how much I trust them.  I mean, of the trio of nefarious ne'erdowells, two were wearing blue hats, and now the rangers are wearing blue hats, so...I'm just saying, it's suspicious).  I hope that he's also getting some medical attention for Pop, unless the old guy has just been playing possum because he didn't want to have to do anything anymore.  That seems like something that Shelly would try to pull, but maybe there's a game on later and he wants to make sure that he's back at the cabin before it starts (that, and he set out to find Mark and he did, sort of.  He didn't say anything about finding Rabbit or anyone else). 

Oh Mark, again with the smuggling angle?  I'm sorry, but I really have to question just how Mark knows that Salty, Sour, and Joe are smugglers.  (And now they've become drug smugglers?)  Nothing about that boat gave me any indication that they were smuggling anything, but hey, maybe if I had been there personally I would have noticed the strange white powder on the deck and the drug-laced ropes.  If you ask me, I'd say that the Herons were behind it.  The Avians obviously saw that Salty and Sour were doomed to failure and planted drugs and other paraphernalia on the ship so that they'd really have to pay for not getting rid of Mark.  (Let this be a lesson to all of the other Avian underlings: do not betray the Empire because you can't take a bird to court, and you just sound crazy when you start blaming your troubles on the chickadees and herons.)

Now that the three troublemakers are headed for the pokey, Mark can go after Rabbit.  This means that it's time for another disguise, and it looks like Mark has decided to go undercover as the Ultimate Warrior.  (I'm not sure that's the best disguise for moving around the swamp unnoticed, but I'm sure that Mark knows what he's doing...mostly.)  I guess he just doesn't completely trust the rangers to pick up Rabbit like they say they will.  Maybe he thinks that they're in on this whole thing too since they haven't stopped his activities yet.  (Maybe he's right.  Maybe he's wrong.  We'll see.)