Getting Otter Slime all over your nice V-Neck Sweater…  But then I suppose this is only to be expected from one who only can hope to follow in the footsteps of your hero and step-dad, MARK TRAIL… who, by the way is doing what right now?  Not checking in that’s for sure…  I am guessing a soldier overseas earning combat pay talks to his or her family more than Mark does…

Excuse me Smith?  YOUR story??  I guess you don’t know how this works, do you?  Oh I suppose you can take the LEGAL angle regarding Big Mike and his merry band while Mark extols the virtues of conservation and the moral and ecological impacts of Poaching…  Mind you, not a little poaching, to put a Opossum in the Stewpot,  but BIG TIME POACHING FOR PROFIT…  That’s the evil we are talking about here…

OK Smith, “Newspaper guy…” I am on to you!  Your green golf pants and lavender jacket need to come with me, sir…and what bizarre color scheme (or lack thereof) has overtaken Mr Rabbit???

Channeling Alan Hale, Jr., Rusty Calls out to “Little Buddy…” Something that the “Skipper” apparently has done in other roles throughout his storied career, most notably as the Captain of the S.S. Minnow on Gilligan’s Island…  And by the way, why on earth was it Gilligan’s?  That poor young man was blamed for EVERYTHING, sometimes well placed but other times not, and whose job is it to shoulder (not deflect) accountability in the maritime milieu?  The CAPTAIN, thank you very much…  Buck stops at the helm, etc… But I digress.

So one of the otters lives to tell the tale…  how gratifying.  Can’t wait for the next installment…

Add that to your portfolio of guilt and shame, like it’s YOUR fault that your father is a horrible, abusive alcoholic,  that your family is a mess, that you had to be rescued by a soulless Nature Writer and his sexually frustrated wife…  That you will never, ever go on a fishing trip, because, well you don’t DESERVE to go on one…

And as Jason Smith, Newspaper Guy, picks up an empty trap and considers its reckless power potential, he also knows that Mollie and Oscar are toast, heading for the pelt stretcher…  Oh but how to gain the trust of the little lad?  How to fill him with comfort and false hope, how to reach him where and how no one else can… OK, ewww…  this story is getting creepier by the day.

…since maybe Charlie Brown…  Honestly, I can’t even look away, it’s so round and bald…  and who told you Smith that it makes good sense to grow out the hair you DO have, to the point where your ears don’t even feature in the shot??  And what’s with your shirt collar?  You showed up at Lost Forest all casual-like with your top button unbuttoned, and now you are cinched up like a gunny-sack…  And Rusty, how about showing a little emotion here… “gee, I hope he doesn’t have Mollie or Oscar…”  Really, these are Your Otters!  The ones for whom you built a beautiful box, who healed in your sight!

We know that’s Frankie, though, by the cap… but, but, how can he be in two places at once?  How can he be guiding Mark on a Trophy Deer Hunt and cleaning out the stream of otters at the same time?  Does he have an evil twin?  Has Big Mike perfected cloning technology?

What green skies doth portend, young Rusty??  Oh, heavens… my worst fears are being realized!  Rusty is resplendent in his v-neck sweater and polo shirt (Lands’ End?) while Smith is in awe of the sheer expanse of the Lost Forest lands…

But there’s Frankie, (oops, almost stuck an “Ol’” in there)  shin deep in the stream, holding a sodden, drowned animal in his rapacious mitts… no doubt an otter…  but is it Mollie or Oscar??  But really, did we need Rusty to tell us what he is seeing??  Why not have him call out, “NOOOOO!!!!!” instead of the overly bland and stilted, “Oh look, there is a man pulling something otter-like out of the stream…”  c’mon Elrod, give your readers a little credit!

Creepy.  Seriously.  I mean, I know that this is a nature strip that needs to feature all manner of flora and fauna, and that the humans only feature in ways described as incidental, but it looks like they have been walking for days, to the land of the jack-rabbit and Ruffed-grouse…

“Sure Rusty, I can help, because you see I am friendless too.  I thought being a newspaper man would make me all the friends I would ever need, but it seems that no one ever wants to talk to me, since they are afraid that their words and their sorry little lives will somehow make it into print.  You have no idea how nice it is to be greeted so warmly by someone, but not just anyone, by you…”  ewwww…

Poor Rusty, the way that Doc and Cherry ignore him is positively criminal…  “Wish I knew how Mollie and Oscar are doing,” he says to no one in particular…“Oh, good, there’s that Newspaper guy, Jason Smith, and oh look at the green pants and lavender jacket he’s wearing…  I wonder where I could get an outfit like that???”

So, Smith, you have “come by” to see if there’s any word from Mark?  Ever heard of a telephone?  But then you wouldn’t be able to drop in and snoop around the Lost Forest compound… or show off your shiny bald head and new outfit!  Must be his day off, since he was all suited up the first time we met him.  And Rusty, what exactly are you doing in Panel three?  Extending your misshapen paw in greeting?  Running toward Smith even though he’s mere feet from you?  Trying not to fall over hanging onto the door jamb ?

Mollie (with an ‘ie’) and Oscar sure are cute, but one of them (really, I can’t tell them apart) is giving us the Ferris Bueller “mug for the camera” look…  “You think I am good a being an Otter?  Well, I ‘ve never had one lesson…”  But let’s take a minute and call out the various “locales” in this story line:  there’s the “river/ stream of death” made that way by none other than Frankie (also with an ‘ie’) the Henchman, there’s Lost Forest Proper, with Rusty Fretting and home-bound, Cherry not realizing that she has sentenced the poor Otters to a watery grave and a date with the skinning knife, and Big Mike’s “lodge” and hunting grounds which of course have been hunted to near extinction.  Of course that’s where Mark is, not near any of the real danger, just there pretending to be someone he’s not (but who, really, since his idea of a disguise is to put on a different colored jacket…)

But let us get back to the notion that there “aren’t any deer” at Big Mike’s…  Really, I mean they breed and multiply like so many rats or rabbits, cause untold amount of damage every year to property, and yet, there is a place where they simply cease to exist?  Huh.  Something else is afoot here,  that much I can tell you!

I can’t decide where I want this story to turn!  Who’s side am I on?  The brain freezes!

…and to use big words like ‘LEEWARD.’  So the name “Trail” sounds familiar, he ponders, with a rare appearance of a thought balloon, but then this isn’t Mark having a private thought it’s someone else…

Ol’ Mr Raccoon knows the score, though.  Not the slightest bit acclimated to humans, he is making tracks across the rocks away from nasty Ol’ Frankie… Or just Frankie.  He wouldn’t be “Ol’” since there isn’t a sympathetic or endearing bone in his evil body.  Or am I being too harsh?  Maybe he has redeeming qualities that have yet to be displayed…

Big Mike looks, well. Bigger…  Maybe this is the first full torso shot he have of him, but damn!  He IS BIG MIKE!!  Not only BIG Mike, but COCK-SURE MIKE.  Have you ever seen such bravado?

I think Frankie is the feckless Brother in Law… His wife made Brother Mike promise that he would keep Frankie gainfully employed… you know, a lifestyle maintained… all wrapped in otter pelts and such… So here he is, running from dawn to dawn, doing Big Mike’s bidding!

Still disappointed that Mark isn’t wearing at least a mustache…

…is NOT to use your real name…  Nice to meet you, “Mr. Trail…” What, did he sign the guest register “Frank Trail?”  (your blogger rubbing his face in wonder…) And Big Mike, to whom appearance is everything, must dye the hillsides around his lodge green, since the Canadian Geese are taking on a strange green tint on their chinstraps…

And Poor Rusty!  Cherry has laid down the law…  he’ll just have to wait until Mark returns?  What?!?  Mark is GONE, sweetheart, on another one of his “missions…”  who knows when he will return.  And wasn’t rusty allowed to go down to the stream earlier to take PICTURES?  Why would he be tethered now?

For those of you not following and maybe have picked up the story, like, today, Mollie and Oscar are OTTERS in mortal danger of falling prey to poacher traps lining their stream…  I guess it’s wise to not assume that everyone wakes up Monday through Saturday with but one thing on their minds- “what’s happening in the world of Mark, Cherry, and Rusty Trail?  And Cherry’s father, “Doc?” Of course we don’t know what Cherry’s maiden name is, or whatever happened to Cherry’s mother…  did she, like Mrs. Hogwallop, up an’ R-U-N-N-O-F-T??  Was she “lookin’ for answers??”

But do we really need that much Otter face in Panel three?  And such a determined look…  That is not an “unaware” look, by the way…  she knows exactly where she is going… And Rusty, really? Where do you THINK an Otter would go?  To the Local Wal*Mart??  Of course they are heading to the river.  Now Pay attention!

But soft!  What is that lurking in the lower right corner of panel one?!?  A flat screen TV!!!  Right next to the loomed/ woven Indian blanket hanging on the wall at a 45 degree angle!

And Rusty! Besides not “watching the otters,” apparently watching television also makes your right hand and right foot shrink!!  Or maybe that part of you didn’t make it back through the time machine…  Your hand and foot are stuck in the “five years ago” mode when you were six or seven.  If Rusty was allowed to utter an expletive, surely he would be doing so now!

But back to the modern implement…  how is it that every now and then a hint of the present day invades the Trail-verse?  Just to keep us readers on our toes, I suppose… But then where is the satellite dish?  Surely cable can’t have made it to that remote reach, or is Poor Rusty limited to what can be grabbed over the air?  Let’s hope not, since he would be a natural audience for “River Monsters” or anything on NatGEO…  Or is he a fan of Ellen and Oprah?  One can only wonder…

“Now don’t you run off, little otters…”  Yeah, right.  “wanders” my eye…  She couldn’t wait to get away from that cloying little human, much the same way that Mark, Cherry and Doc look for opportunities to ditch and run…  But now we do get to see the expanse of the Lost Forest Compound.  In one direction we see the Horse Barn and Paddock, and looking back the other way, we see the “Big house” with its multiple roof lines…  nestled in the foothills of the southern edge of the Blue Ridge Mountains… Nice.  Secluded.  No doubt playing hobs with little Rusty’s mind…  a sense of detachment from the human race.  But not a good sense.  The kind that leaves one convinced that it’s possible to talk to wild animals and have them understand what you are saying…

So run, little otters, while you still have a chance!  Your traps wait!!

To give them names?  But at least Rusty understands that the cute and adorable otters can’t stay with him… but it does look like Oscar the Kit is now the size of Mollie the Mother…  How long has this story been going on?  How’s Ol’ Eddie getting on?  Did he recover from his wounds inflicted by Frankie?  I love that everyone has a name now…

But quickly, Thumper, run!  Run to the big house! You must tell the Master that there is EVIL back in the Forest…  He needn’t get all disguised up and go to Big Mike’s lodge in search of a trophy when Frankie the Henchman is littering the stream with traps…

And don’t ever let anyone tell you different… You only go around once in this life, and if you want to spend it sitting in an overstuffed chair with a glass of good whiskey in your hand, you better take all pelts you can… But really?  Define ”fortune…”  it’s sort of like Ralph Kramden from The Honeymooners… “Norton~ We’re gonna be millionaires…”  While there might be a spanking trade in otter skin coats, how many pelts does it take to make one? Like, 25 or 30?  How many otters could possibly be in a given area? 4 or 5?  So you “clean out a stream,” and you are only 1/5 of the way there, and you still need to gut, clean, mount, stretch, scrape, dry and stack and market said pelts…  So the real money must come from gullible city slickers that come for a taste of big game and will pay through the shorts for a trophy… still, it’s a shaky business model… and not sustainable as evidenced by the fact that this rapacious crew must continue to stretch its domain, even to the point of poaching on protected lands!

Frankie, now Mr. Sideburns Henchman has a name…  seems only too happy to be doing his boss’s bidding.  Family?  I suppose.  I mean, what on earth does HE get out of this deal?  I am sure he lies awake on his cot at night thinking of how he would run things if HE was boss… but no, the cards were not dealt in his favor, so now he must play the role that he has been given… While I am not a fan of organized labor, I really think that Henchmen of the world should unite!  Form a union! Demand stuff!  Your evil bosses are only as good as the people they keep around them…

Meanwhile in panel one, poor Mr. Mouse is about to become raptor scat… mmm, mmm, duddle-dut…

… or is it Deer Father…

…Mark can hardly contain himself with the joy that come when he realizes that we gets to LEAVE LOST FOREST…  Add this data point to the MTTLLF (Mean Time to Leave Lost Forest) data set:  28 days… kind of an outlier when you consider that in some cases he barely leaves enough time for a hug and a shave before he’s off again with a fresh set of underwear on another “assignment…”

Gotta love the fact that Andy, being a large breed dog, is allowed to drool on the table… “Hey, no problem there, friend, you have gotten me out of more than one scrape… slobber away!”

Little fawn is a little shaky… note the “wobble lines” surrounding the hind quarters… “Hey, stop pushing , all right? I am have enough trouble here!”

And what disguise will mark come up with?  This should be good.  Does he own any clothes other than the khaki set he always wears?  Spontaneously sprout facial hair?  What will his back-story be?  How will he have “heard” of Big Mike??

Rusty, what have you been doing?  Or what has Doc done to you?  You’ve been playing with the time machine again haven’t you??  Were the otters involved?  Are we going to have to gene-splice you back to “normal,” whatever that is??  And Mark, please… “friend?” You hardly know this man, you seem to throw that label around with reckless abandon!!  Of course if he were truly a friend, he would have a nick-name (like Bluegill) or the word “Ol’” would have been tacked on for good measure.  Like “Ol’ Eddie the Small time Poacher…” Beggars can’t be choosers when it comes to making friends at Lost Forest… Just ask Rusty!

Stay tuned everyone, that Otter is about to bite off Mark’s friend Jason’s Nose!

…appears to be a worldwide phenomenon…  a nice wiki article also indicates that it is referred to as lamping in some areas of the world, and a typical crew can consist of two or three people…  makes it sound almost legal and humane… but I think the point of our story here is that it is VERY BAD and that BIG MIKE is a VERY BAD PERSON who has surrounded himself with VERY BAD PEOPLE and engages with VERY VAIN AND INSECURE CLIENTS…

Without a shred of compunction, with nary a second thought as to motive or potential impact, these two baddies are quite pleased with themselves… the object of their evil plan finds itself locked in a trance seemingly unaware of the threat that has befallen him!  Oh the injustice!  The hairs on the back of Mark’s smooth, Lilly-White neck must be bristling, but he can’t know why, only that there is no-good happening in his universe…

And since when to rifles go WHAM?!?  I thought they went BLAM, unless, the animal was actually RUN OVER…  and the rifle in the hands of Bad Guy #1 (played by Keanu Reeves) is just for show or to shoot humans who might happen upon their misdeeds…

It would seem not…  Apparently he will be able to gaze upon his trophy, perched above the hearth in his study for years to come, knowing that he did not pull the trigger…  He might as well just go to a thrift store or find one in someone else’s attic…

And then there’s that irritating ¾ profile close-up of “Big Mike” in panel two…  What- is this guy so difficult to draw that we have to one again copy/ paste?  And as “Sideburns McGreavy” gives Big Mike the Big thumbs-up in panel three, little does he know that he is about to meet up with his fate- the Fists-o-Justice- from one Mark Trail…  If these guys aren’t worth a punch, I don’t know who is!  So c’mon, Elrod, no open field tackles this time, let Mark’s sharpened knuckles do their job!