Saturday, April 17, 2004
Have you ever giggled like a goddamned fool? You get the giggles so hard, so fiercely, that no matter how hard you try to stop, no matter how many people stare, you just can't quite shake them?
Like when the priest cuts a mean fart during Communion? How about when your faithful dog runs smack-dab into the glass patio door, just trot-trot-trot-kaPOW? Or like that one video that was passed around in everyone's e-mail, the one of the cat clinging to a spinning ceiling fan before it gave up the ghost and flew right into a wall? Or that time when Jeff Daniels decked Lauren Holly in the face with a snowball in Dumb and Dumber? Or when a kid totally kicks some guy in the balls, and that guy makes that pop-eyed "holy jesus!" face right before he falls over?
That's Scurvy Dogs.
This is a pirate comic, and no pirate comic is complete without a colorful crew, so let me see if I can get this straight: You got the Menudo-American guy with the pet vulture (named Pete, of course), you've got the surly Irish guy who knows the difference between sea shanties and maritime tunes, you've got the old geezer who eats everything and has a handful of origin stories for his hook, and you've got the chinese guy who doesn't talk. All these guys do indeed have a pirate ship, wear eye patches and hats with the old Jolly Roger emblazoned right on the front, but these guys operate in the real world. Or, at least, the kind of "real world" that allows for vikings from the future and the King of the Hobo Mafia (he of the bitchin' cape.)
Just about every funny B&W comic I run across, I end up comparing to The Tick, and I think that in this case the comparison has some validity (if only in form and not content.) Both comics set up their own totally insane world, and both operate flawlessly within the parameters of that world. There's a kind of energy running through these panels, a speed and a sharpness so completely mastered that Andrew Boyd and Ryan Yount make all of this look effortless.
(Secret: It's not. Otherwise we'd have more books like this one.)
Enough of that high-falutin' crap. This is a goddamned funny book, and I'm still giggling like a fool. ("The priest! He farted!") And I ask, has there ever been a finer sentence put to print than this one?:
"C'mon, boys, let's show these Portugese lepers why we call them the 'pinatas of the sea.'"
I submit to you that there has not.
Rating: "Right in the middle of Communion!"