I shall return.

I promise.

He cheats at cards.

Tracy, feeling invincible and superior to Ace in every possible way, makes a little wager, betting the big guy double or nothing on a high stakes challenge. (Yeah Tracy, be confident. After all, it's easy to be confident that you'll win when you're gambling with someone else's money. Maybe you should have run this little plan of yours by King.) I hope he realizes that Ace didn't get to where he is today by playing by the rules, and even if he doesn't cheat, there's still the chance that, upon Tracy winning, he'll just bring out the gun that he's no doubt hidden within easy reach, shoot Tracy, and take the money anyway. Still, Tracy isn't completely hopeless, as he's made a call to the station for backup. I guess after they straightened out the mess at Gertie and B.O.'s everyone just went back to the station and didn't go to the casino where Tracy and that lone policeman, who may never have even been given a name, where still fighting crime. (The system works!) I'd say that his friends are about to jump into their squad cars and race over to Monte's, but I'm not so sure. That one cop looks like he's about to go brush his teeth (and probably then head for bed), demonstrating that the war on plaque is more important than the war on crime. I sure hope that Tracy has a Plan B (although, at this point, he might be on to Plan N).

I guess it was the wrong music for the scene.

One album blocks thoughts.

Another album opens the flood gates.

I wish I didn't have to guess which one did which.

I am attempting to remain positive.

It is very, very difficult right now, all things considered.

The name's sort of the same.

The villain in 1973's Live And Let Die is Kananga.

The villain in 1974's The Man With The Golden Gun is Scaramanga.

I don't think it's a coincidence.

I just think the writers got attached to the -anga ending.

(And yes, I know the two novels were published over ten years apart, but I'm talking about the movies.)

Let's take a walk.

Happy World Sauntering Day.

Superman needs a haircut.

The mysterious vice president of the Williams Chemical Company is finally revealed, and while it's definitely not Peter, I can't decide whether it's Superman or Tarzan. If it's Tarzan (and who am I to say that it isn't. After all, Ms. Williams' first name could very well be Jane.), he's sure been working on his English since leaving the jungle. Why would I think it's Tarzan, you ask? Well, who else would wear a cheetah print tie? (Speaking of Cheetah, I wonder what happened to him...) Now, as I said, it could also be Superman (Hey, for all we know, Ms. Williams' first name is Lois and she and Supes are deep undercover or just trying to get away from all of those supervillains.), and old Kal-El there might be growing out his hair in order to better relate to the younger folks, even if he just can't quite give up the curl yet. If it is him, then the whole dumping thing kind of makes sense. After all, who doesn't have a home planet anymore? (There's also the lesson about not basing your civilization on Lego/crystal infrastructure, but that's an issue for another day.) Whoever he turns out to be, the guy is trouble, and Ms. Williams there doesn't appear to be buying his "I'm careful about disposing of our material legally!" excuse. (Someone should tell him that unless you go through the proper channels, just dumping barrels by the side of the road does not constitute a legal disposal of material.) With doubt and suspicion hanging heavily in the air, our as yet unnamed vice president goes on the defensive, demanding to know who's making the illegal dumping accusations. Mark better watch out. Whoever this guy turns out to be, be it Tarzan or Superman or someone I've never heard of, he's likely to be a handful. Of course, the same could be said for Mark since we've all seen him knock more than one dastardly fiend to the ground with a well-placed punch. Let this battle of the titans commence!

As much as I want to do it, I simply cannot.

I shouldn't go looking up anything about the series until I've actually finished reading it because every time I look up something, thinking that it is but a harmless question, I seem to find something that either gives a very strong hint or straight out tells me what's going to happen. Sure, some of it I had already had a sneaking suspicion about, but other things came as complete surprises that perhaps wouldn't have been so unexpected by the time I reached them. Therefore, I have no choice but to do no further looking. I have no choice because I don't want to spoil the ending.

(The same applies to the back covers of the next three books which I will no longer look at because through them I have already learned too much.)

Wasting time can be a musically satisfying experience.

If you've never gone to this site, I suggest you go there now. It's fun.

I have no feelings.

But I'm going to get some.

Well isn't that convenient.

Mark shows the President of the Williams Chemical Company the pictures he took and she immediately goes on the defensive (even if it really looks like he's trying to teach her to read in that first panel), not that she hasn't been on the defensive ever since Mark showed up unannounced at the office. Still, she's sticking to her story and claiming to have no knowledge of the dumping, claiming instead that her company takes care of those sorts of things in a completely legal and ethical manner, which is apparently the duty of the Vice President of the Williams Chemical Company. Sorry Miss Williams, but I don't think that you can just pass off the blame for the dumping on some mysterious vice president and get away scot-free. Sorry, ma'am, but it just doesn't work that way (not anymore, anyway). Maybe if we actually knew who this vice president was things would be different (after all, if it's Peter, that sort of thing would be right up his alley), but the fact is that we just don't know, and it might be weeks before we do.

Meanwhile, the Avian's exercise program continues. (What do you mean, "Why's it taking so long?" Have you seen what bird legs look like? Do you know how much beak sharpeners cost? Do you know how long it takes to turn raw recruits into precision flying teams? No, I didn't think so.) We should all enjoy these days of relative calm because after all, it's getting warmer, spring is turning to summer, and the more athletic birds are already beginning to take to the skies. (I certainly haven't forgotten about those ducks, have you?)

Going undercover without a disguise is never a good idea, unless you're Dick Tracy.

Dead sick? Dead sick? Really? Why couldn't you have just said dead tired instead? It makes a lot more sense than dead sick, but maybe I'm being too hard on everyone's favorite gumshoe because I really wanted to see him dressed up in playing card inspired garb. I mean, after seeing him with that mustache, I think that he could have actually pulled it off. (At the very least he could have opened that portal again and asked for help from Ricardo. Oh well.) At least Ace seems to have enough sense to know who is who in his organization...sort of. He at least seems to know who the major players are. Underlings, it would seem, are another matter entirely. (Maybe the smoke from that cigar/giant cigarette is going to his head. I would also like to add that I like the fact that it now looks like he has the little Logo triangle on his collar. Makes me want to play a game of Turtle or some Logo. Does anyone else remember that or is it just me? Oh Apple IIe, how I miss thee. But enough rambling. It's time to get back to business.)

Introductions aside, that last panel tells us a lot about Ace's intelligence, and unfortunately the news is not good. Apparently, he doesn't appear to be the brightest bulb in the world since he didn't insist on seeing Tracy's identification, calling Jack to make sure that he actually sent the man standing before him, or check Tracy for any concealed weapons. To make matters worse, it looks like Tracy has managed to quite easily trick him into thinking stacks of hastily drawn and colored counterfeit bills made of 4x6 index cards by Mrs. Jones's p.m. kindergarten class are actual bills that can be used to buy goods and services. Oh Ace, if there's not a bomb hidden in that briefcase, I'll be surprised.

This has "Bad Idea" written all over it.

Why does Hollywood feel the need to remake Red Dawn? (Not that the original was a masterpiece of cinematography, but I'm just wondering if there isn't some other old movie they could kill instead?) Why do I also have the feeling that it's going to be another one of those instances where when it's released on DVD it comes packaged with the original a la The Day The Earth Stood Still? (Which really seemed like a great big vote of no confidence to me.) Come on Hollywood, come up with an original idea. There's got to be at least one out there. (I've got some if you're interested. No? Okay.)

Maybe that's his real name.

Go ahead. Tell me there isn't a resemblance.

To speak to a real person, press 7.

Tracy continues his phone call with Ace, and it's clear that he's using a cell phone because he has now started giving everyone reading this comic "The Cell Phone Glare," whereby someone talking on a cell phone loud enough for everyone in the tri-county area to hear the conversation notices people staring at them and responds with a glare that can only be interpreted as saying, "How dare you listen in on my conversation!" (Aren't people wonderful?) At least we're finally starting to get a good look at Ace, and even though he apparently changed out of his pinstripe suit, you can still tell that it's him because he's got that spade tie tack. I am a little concerned about the guy, though, since it looks like his head appears to be melting (maybe he's made of ice cream) or that he was hit by a rogue water balloon and his expertly styled hair has now fallen over his face (even though it really looks like his head has started to melt). Tracy should be careful. If he doesn't act like Jack, Ace will get suspicious and cause him a lot of trouble (not that he hasn't already).
For being the supposed head of a criminal organization, Ace sure agreed to that meeting pretty easily. I guess Tracy bringing up the cops had something to do with it since I wouldn't be surprised if there were one or two warrants out for his arrest. With the meeting set up, we finally get our first look at Ace's face (nice nose) as well as some indication as to what he has planned for the man he believes to be Jack. (Won't he be surprised when Tracy shows up? Oh sure, he'll probably be furious, but later this will be one of those things that he'll laugh about when he's sitting in a tiny prison cell. Well, that or it will trigger an eruption of murderous rage.) So that's Ace? Really? I have to say that he doesn't strike me as the criminal mastermind type. Nope, not at all. Actually, if I had to place him in the criminal organization hierarchy I'd probably put him somewhere in muscle, henchman, or hired goon territory. (It's the Cro-Magnon brow. It just doesn't lend itself to thoughts of intelligence.) Maybe he'll surprise me with his skills. Maybe he's going for the element of surprise (and if this is what Ace looks like, who knows what Monte looks like. We can only hope that he carries around three cards with him wherever he goes.).

As Ace prepares for the meeting, King continues to cooperate with the police, hoping that by doing so they'll overlook the fact that he's the head of a cartel and that most, if not all, of his casinos have been swindling people out of money for who knows how long. Still, at least it means that he always has a briefcase full of money handy for just such an occasion as this. (What can I say? The guy subscribes to the 4Ps. Pre-planning Prevents Poor Performance. He might also subscribe to the 5Ps too, but there may be children reading this.) With the plan finally coming together, Tracy can't help but throw in one last card-related pun just because there hasn't been one since the strip turned its focus to sight gags instead. (All I have to say is, "Why, Dick, why?") I know I can't wait to see what happens next. Could a card-related costume possibly be in Tracy's future? (I sure hope so.)

Mark Trail's awesome adventures in the corporate world.

I wouldn't trust this Miss Williams, Mark. She could be Kelly Welly, growing out her hair and pulling it back in order to trick you into thinking she's someone else (let us not forget the Shelly incident from a few storylines back), or perhaps she's related to Peter, who never did get his comeuppance in that disappearing wetlands storyline. Whoever she might be, she appears to be a lady who isn't going to take any guff from anyone, even an intrepid outdoorsman like Mark Trail. Mark should also pay attention to his word balloons since the bold words pretty much sum up what Miss Williams is most likely going to be: LOT OF TROUBLE, LADY.
Of course it's ridiculous. Why, I'm sure that the company doesn't just dump hazardous waste material on private property. They clearly dump it in nature where it's free to run and jump and play. (Besides, if the company is anything like the people who like to go out into the country and dump things by the side of the road or at a dead end, they probably thought that no one owned the land anyway, or at least that they wouldn't be caught.) You'd best watch yourself, Miss Williams, Mark's hair is getting sharper and more angular, which means that it's getting ready to attack because it knows who you really are even if Mark doesn't, and I don't know that the Jack Elrod Ball will be able to hold it back. (Your only hope of getting away unscathed is if your earrings are actually some sort of gas bombs that can stun it long enough for you to get away.)

Language!

After going over to B.O. and Gertie's and finding that everything was fine, or at least as fine as it was going to get, and not wanting to argue with B.O. anymore about whether or not he really had a system, Tracy heads back to the casino, where King is still hanging around, now joined by Bullethead.  (I guess the secretary had to leave)  He arrives just in time for a mysterious phone call from a mysterious man who likes to use profanity.  (Gee, I wonder who it could be.)  Disguising his voice, Tracy pretends to be Jack and engages in conversation with the mysterious man on the other end of the line.  He also apparently takes this opportunity to practice his ventriloquism, which probably isn't the best idea in the world since the guy he's talking to can't see him to appreciate this skill.  Still, it is pretty impressive.  Notice how his mouth never moves.  (It gets even better when he drinks the glass of water.)  Ventriloquism aside, I hope that it isn't imperative for the guy on the other end to see that VOICE DISGUISED sign pointed at Tracy's mouth.  Otherwise, this could be a very short call that could very well end in gunfire.  (Hey, I don't know how phones in this universe work.  It might be possible to shoot someone through the line.  We just can't be sure.)

Hot Google search action!*

After finding three mysterious letters on the barrels that someone apparently tried to scrape away (even though you can't really scrape away something that's been stamped into metal), Mark heads to the Internet.  Cherry, the Jack Elrod Ball, and Andy (who seems to be observing from a distance, unless it's not Andy at all and is actually a puppet) look over Mark's shoulder to monitor his Internet activities as he surfs the web looking for a chemical company with the initials W.C.C.  He quickly finds it (which I find rather convenient because if I had tried, I probably would have gotten all sorts of sites that had nothing to do with chemicals, but maybe the Internet is different in Lost Forest) and discovers that the company is located near Lost Forest, so he decides to investigate.  (He also finds out some very interesting information about licorice, but that's a post for another time.)  Upon entering the office of the Williams Chemical Company, we can all see right away that something is wrong.  These people have obviously no concern for the environment.  Otherwise, they would have watered that plant in the corner instead of leaving it to slowly tip over as it inches closer and closer to death (and if it turns out to be plastic, all I have to say is, "How do you kill a plastic plant?").  There also appears to be a slightly snotty/uppity receptionist too (you can just tell from the way she boldly says "who"), so there is obviously something sketchy about this whole operation.  The question is: "What is it and what does it have to do with that pile of barrels?"

*If you know where that came from, I salute you.

I definitely got a feeling on this.

Last time you had a feeling, I had to kill a guy.  

I hate that.  It looks bad on my report.

(Oh, Angelo.  Let Utah make it up to you with one of those meatball sandwiches you love.  He'll even get you two.)

Looks like meat's back on the menu, boys.

Ah, now I see.  It wasn't so much that Mark was going to be taking a scraping from the barrels as it was that he was going to investigate some scrapings he saw on the barrels.  Still, getting a scraping from a barrel might have been a way to find out what kind of paint was used on them, and then he could have traced that back to the factory and the buyer of the paint.  (It probably would have led to a dead end, but who knows.  After all, it sometimes works with cars.)  I guess that this makes more sense, though he might still need those crayons and loose leaf paper since they might work better than taking another picture.  (And do remember to focus.  A blurry picture is of no use to anyone.)  Focused on his photographic endeavors, Mark is unaware of the appearance of a lone wolf, who might be wandering the forest by itself, or might be a scout for a larger pack.  (I just hope they aren't a hungry pack.  If they are, I hope that mark remembered to bring something to distract them while he ran away or found a tree to climb.)  Then again, perhaps this wolf is aligned with the forest creatures from a previous storyline and is there to assist Mark.  I guess we'll just have to wait and see what the Jack Elrod Ball finds out.

We made you and we can break you.

It would seem that the media will love you so long as you keep winning, but the moment you lose, even if you still finish in a respectable position that keeps you in the money, it will do everything in its power to destroy you and turn you into the villain.  Reminds me of that scene from Chicago where after Roxie says "They love me," Billy says, "They'd love you a lot more if you were hanged.  You know why?  Because it would see more papers."  Nice, guys, really nice.  Wish I could have the record of the poor guy you pounced on.  Wish there was someone to pounce on you on national television whenever you made a mistake too.

I also miss this.

Where else can kids go along with a young Ben Affleck as he learns about whales, red tides, and the collecting of fresh water?

And don't forget about the jazzier version of the song that was the ending credits theme.

Good times.

I blame the previous post.

Still, good times.

I miss 3-2-1 Contact.

Coming up next on CSI: Lost Forest...

And here I was afraid that I'd be missing out on some heart stopping microscope action, but I shouldn't have worried.  Looks like Doc's all set to look at any microscopic traces of evidence that Mark brings back from the barrel pile.  He's even got his chemistry set all ready to go, so you know he's serious about this (and why wouldn't he be?  If I lived in Lost Forest, I certainly wouldn't want it to be known as the forest were wild animals come to die.).  Now if only they could find a lab coat for him to wear...(Oh, and Mark, if what's in the barrels is indeed toxic, then I don't really think there'd be much of a question as to whether or not it's what's killing the animals.  Okay, okay, I'll give the guy a break.  After all, he's new to this, but you've got to step it up, my friend.) 
News of the mysterious pile of barrels in Lost Forest has pulled Doc out of the lab and he's come prepared to take all sorts of samples (or eat his lunch because it's just too nice a day to eat in the lab).  While Mark takes a few more pictures, Doc gets to work collecting evidence in teeny tiny vials.  (I'm not sure that bringing such tiny vials was a good idea, Doc.  Wasn't there anything in the lab capable of collecting more than a thimble full of evidence.  Couldn't you have at least brought along an Erlenmeyer flask?  I guess not.  Hope you brought plenty of the little guys, or that you don't accidentally waste any of what you collect when you get back to the lab.)  And what are these mysterious agencies you speak of, Doc?  Are you setting the scene for some sort of crossover?  That would be kind of neat. 

Just when you think things can't get any more exciting after that scene with the microscope, and then the one with the camera and tiny vials, Mark pulls out a magnifying glass!  He must be really serious about this case because he actually bothered to develop one the pictures he took.  (This tells me that kidnapping bank robbers are far less interesting than a bunch of toxic barrels.)  While Mark is hard at work in the Lost Forest Lab, the Jack Elrod Ball conducts his own investigation, speaking with the native wildlife about any strange disappearances or shadowy figures.
As the Jack Elrod Ball scours the forest for information, Mark comes up with a plan of his own, and I think what he probably means in that first panel is that he's going to take a rubbing from one of the barrels since to me, scraping means actually scraping the paint off of said barrels.  I think that he also borrowed a few of Rusty's crayons and some pieces of loose leaf paper so that he could go all Bloodhound Gang with this case and see if he can't make the marks he saw in the photograph a little clearer.  (It works, I tell you.  I've had to do it on some tombstones during a genealogical investigation, and it really does make things easier to read.)  Meanwhile, the Jack Elrod Ball continues to ask questions, moving from the heron of the previous strip to the beaver, hoping to get an idea of how the situation stands from both ground level and from the sky.

(And on a sort of related note: you just don't hear that many people refer to it as loose leaf paper nowadays, do you?  At least, I don't, but it was always in the books I read when I was younger.  Fascinating.)

Clean up, aisle four.

After learning more about Jack's plan from King, Tracy suddenly remembers that B.O. had recently gone on a bit of a winning streak at the casino, and was therefore probably in trouble.  (I guess he conveniently forgot that B.O. had already been in trouble and that he had gone to the casino to rescue him.)  Leaving King and the lieutenant behind to clean things up (and here we learn that either Jack has merely been knocked unconscious and is now drooling on the floor, or that being shot in the back creates a blood spot on the floor more commonly associated with someone having their throat slit), Tracy apparently forgets about all of that cartel stuff that King had been talking about before suddenly changing his tune and talking about this "reputable business" that he runs, and leaps into action once more to go save B.O. and Gertie from certain death.
Okay, so maybe not that certain of  a death in that Gertie had already pretty much taken care of things by the time B.O. showed up.  (I'll give the comic this: it was good to see that Tracy didn't know what was going on since he hadn't been there to see it, even if it does mean rehashing whatever happened there over the next week or so.)  With the criminals being carted away to an ambulance (and then to jail, unless it's a prison ambulance.  Then they're both going to the same place.), Tracy begins trying to tell B.O. about Jack's plan and how that system of his wasn't so much a system as a con in which he was but an unwitting pawn.  B.O., of course, will not hear of this, choosing to stick to his system story until the day he dies.  

But wait, there's more!  Look everyone, Ace is back!  And might I say that he's looking quite the dapper fellow in his pinstripe suit (or at least his arm is.  I can't really say anything about the rest of him).  His appearance not only tells me that this story is going to keep going for a little while longer, but that things may not be all peaches and cream in the Playing Card Kingdom.  Not only does he not seem to be aware of King's appearance at the casino, but if you direct your eyes to his cuff, you'll see a small spade cuff link.  This makes me think that each suit (hearts, diamond, spades, clubs, you know, the big four) is its own little gang and that these different gangs have been at war with each other for years and though right now there is peace, there's still a lot of backstabbing and underhanded deals going on and that the King of Clubs isn't as in control of his casinos as he thinks he is.  Watch your back, my liege.  I fear there are evil forces at work.

It's not just for spies anymore.

Watching the hockey game last night, I realized that this music fit the action perfectly.

(Please disregard the frogmen, the speeding boat, and any of the other things that show up on screen or in your mind when this music starts to play.)

I bought the songs again, but still...

It is my opinion that if you have already bought a CD and over time find that one or more of the tracks has become damaged and will not play properly due to age and other causes, you should be able to get the songs you lost back for free.  (I'm looking at you CDs it looks like I burned a tiny hole in even when you have never been anywhere near a lighter and have only ever resided in a case or a CD player.)  I mean, yes, you can buy individual songs nowadays, but still, you already paid for the song once.  Why should you have to pay for it again?  Yes, you could argue that you could get the songs you lost from friends who also own them, but what if you don't know anyone who does?  That's when you really start to get desperate and think, "Well, it's not so bad.  If I really clean the surface it sort of plays.  Most of the time.  During a full moon.  When Venus aligns with Jupiter and Mars joins them to form an isosceles triangle.  And only after a snow storm.  In March."  No, you shouldn't have to do that.  You should be able to listen to those songs as they were intended to be listened to.  You should be able to type in the UPC or some other identification number and get the lost songs back.  I wouldn't even mind it if you could only get a song back once, or if the number of songs you got back was recorded and if you abused the system you would be banned forever because I wouldn't abuse it.  I just want to be able to listen to "Nessun Dorma" without it sounding like there's a helicopter landing nearby.  That's all I really want.  I just want the song back because I bought it and it should be mine.  To date I've had to buy individual songs from two CDs that I own, and it would have been four except I managed to temporarily fix the problems on the other two with a Magic Eraser and some Goo Gone (and I'd like to say right away that I don't recommend it.  I only did it because neither of the CDs had cost a lot, both were nearly unplayable, and had it not worked, I wouldn't have been able to listen to them anyway, so there really wasn't any risk involved).  I just think that it would be nice if I didn't have to go to extreme measures or plunk down more money just to get the songs I had already bought once before back.  I think it could also create a lot of goodwill, which the music industry seems to be lacking, but that's just my opinion.  Of course, I'm sure that this music retrieval service idea of mine will never happen because there would be those who abuse the program.  (I'm not even going to say that there might be people who would abuse it because I know that there will be.  There always are.)  Still, a gal can dream, can't she?

If you ever become President...

You will most likely be known only by your last name or initials.

(Unless there happen to be more than one of you.)