What's Mallard raving about today?
Other people.
First of all, Mallard, this is why no one will ever speak to you more than once. I know you think it's retribution for bravely speaking truth (aka Big Lies). But it's actually just because you're a petty, mean-spiritied, smug, superior asshat.
Second, what? I'm not sure that sentence can be parsed according to the rules of English grammar and you're criticizing that other guy?
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I have this strange feeling that I HAVEN'T seen this exact drawing before. It's rather unsettling.
Or maybe I did see it before... in Shoe.
"Like I always say," the man remarked, "you're a mean drunk. Then again, you're also mean sober."
5 seconds earlier: "Like I always say, Mallard, ducks collecting unemployment shouldn't be spending their Friday mornings pie-eyed drunk in a bar, spouting off nonsense..."
I wonder if his glass is empty because he drank it quicker than the bartender could replace it, or because he's already cut off.
If that's Mallard's idea of a pick-up line he's doing it wrong.
Mallard's "new direction" has apparently veered towards "speaking truth to" (that is, bitching out) random people for the most minor transgressions.
I confess, I've run into people who have very annoying verbal habits; for example the oily little nerdie with the smug, purse-lipped smirk who just LOVED to start sentences with "I hate to be the one who tells you, but..." If anyone voiced an opinion he didn't agree with or made the slightest error with some supposition ("I think the bus comes every fifteen minutes or so"), he would chime in with it ("I hate to be the one who tells you but after ten p.m. they come every TWENTY minutes!! ...Giggle snerk!").
The crime of Mallard's victim seems insignificant by comparison. Mallard himself reminds me of the oily little nerdie more than anyone else.
See, Bruce, this sort of behavior is why your attempts at trysts at the local gay bar always end with you getting punched.
What?
I notice that the upper corners of today's strip are filled with horizontal brush strokes instead of the usual sloppy hatching. For Bruce, this represents a quantum leap in artistic growth. Who knows -- in another 15 years (assuming the strip hasn't choked to death on its own fumes by then), Bruce may have figured out how to draw Mallard with his mouth open.
But somehow, I doubt it.
Since he lost his place on TV, Mallard has appointed himself as a freelance critique of human foibles at large. He goes around waiting for somebody to say something he can pounce on and deflate with his razor wit. And this is where the cunning plan falls apart.
Yet another "comic" in which Mallard expresses unhappiness and bewilderment.
Basically he's a depressed Ziggy.
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