Yet another unusual entrance. Go HERE.
Pass it along, if you wish
23 Responses to Comic Sins: The Guardian again
Host with the Most
Hey! Hey youse! Why do all the bad guys always have Brooklyn accents?
Does’t “The Guardian” know to check for guys with Tommy guns in the background before making a dramatic entrance?
LAXATIVES!! (Oops wrong item) Yeah Guardian seems to be a lame superhero. I was thinking of one called Superlaxie. But I forgot what my funny theeme was gonna be. I’ll now go to bed.
Your caption seems to be cut-n-pasted from the last entry.
Also, how popular were purple suits… well, ever?
D∈T
More like “Legion of the Receding Hairline.”
You won’t see that purple suit again until Superfly.
Some of those newsboys seem of an age to go on Social Security.
Bob
Lots of purple going on there. A purple suit worn with a brown shirt and green tie. This is a single criminal, as no wife would allow such a horror to get out the door.
Strange windows. Lots of green. Too much green. Not to mention purple.
Bad lamp shade! Bad!
Also threatening little kids with realistic, ordinary guns does not play well these days.
I’m wondering about that thick waft of mystery smoke, and what effect it might be having on all
the purple . . .
This picture is entlessly fascinating in it’s horribleness.
The Guardian (who is carrying a small, deformed, orange grand piano) could have smoothly entered through the actual door, thus getting the drop on the guy with the really big gun. Instead, he flings himself through the long rectangular Inexplicable Archetectural Feature at an angle that will land him without finesse on the purple-suited gun on the hard green chair.
Also the Guardian had a super-sized condom partly unrolled over his head, and that’s never a good sign.
Pam-El, I’m going to let you write these from now on.
That one kid looks like a cross between Walter Matthau and Richard Nixon. Also his genes are so defective, he’s already balding!
(When I was in high school, my friend’s older brother had a receding hairline like that; he looked 45 when he was 17. Unfortunately he refused to go buy booze for us)
The Guardian seems to be wearing a brain bucket. Without my spectacles it initially appeared to be his brain bursting through his melon.
Those kids are hideous.
But since the Caption is reused from the previous post, I can mention again that the smallest Member of the Newsboy Legion appears to be sporting the aptly named Newsboy Cap of one Rudy Davis from Falt ALbert and The Cosby Kids (The Junkyard Gang / Band!).
@juanito – John Davey
Or Fat Albert.
Obviously The Guardian has infiltrated through the kitchen, and is now climbing over the breakfast bar to leap onto his nemesis — the Joker’s non-facially maimed cousin, Smugsy.
Unfortunately for all concerned, in a moment or two Smugsy’s overzealous henchman will massacre them with a wild spray from his Tommy gun.
“You won’t see that purple suit again until Superfly.”
Heh. You won’t see a T-shirt under a suit, like the henchman standing in the door at the rear is wearing, again until Miami Vice.
(His suit’s also purple. Do these guys work for Prince, or the Joker?)
What dramatic tension! Note that the goon with the Chicago street-sweeper is left-handed. Can he clear his weapon around the obstacle, acquire the target, and give the Guardian a megadose of forty-five caliber lead therapy before the Guardian . . . uh, uses whatever superpower he has to do . . . uh, something . . . to the Big Boss?
The lower kids have that mushed-down face one sees in toothless geezers. Anyway, all evil begins in Brooklyn.
Next panel:
“Wait — you used up the two seconds telling us we had just two seconds.”
“No, I didn’t. It started after I finished speakin’.”
“No, no, not fair. It started after the words ‘two seconds.’ We demand more time on the clock. We couldn’t have answered if we wanted to.”
“Hey, whose got da gat around here?”
“You, but that guy’s gat is bigger.”
“Don’t youse go all OT on me.”
“I’m just saying you need to state the amount of time in which the question should be answered, and then set the clock running. And be fair; what if the Guardian’s name is Rockwell Humonculatta de Joseph y Maria Pendergast-Throatwarbler Mangrove III? Two seconds is unreasonable.”
“Well, geez, I don’t wanna be unreasonable. Psychotic and ruteless, sure, but a guy’s gotta draw da line somewhere.”
“See? We can all get along just fine.”
“Cheez, I didn’t have anyting like dis much trouble with dem Yancy Street kids.”
If next week’s Comic Sins is also The Guardian, and all the covers are like this, it will make for a splendid labor-saving strategy for Our Host.
Joey Purple Suit appears to be packing a Desert Eagle .50 cal automatic prototype. The youts are drawn in the classical “Irish Ghetto” comic style: short, pug noses, puffy cheeks.
In the updated version, I suppose The Guardian would be responding to a light signal from Child Protective Services in response to a tip regarding third degree corporal punishment, or some such.
Thanks, James. Praise from those you admire is praise indeed.
(I feel it’s OK to call you James as I have hovered over your head since Jasper was a puppy and (G)Nat was an abstract concept.)
And so, to display my general ineptness — I have hardly any ept at all — I attach the above response to a random message.
Actually, the link points to last weeks Comic Sins page, which our host apparently also accidentally loaded with this week’s picture, overwriting last week’s, although the caption remains unchanged, as other posters have noted. This week’s Comic Sins is #162 : http://lileks.com/institute/funny/09/162.html, which does indeed have a new caption.