Let me get this straight:  We are to believe that one minute Cherry is the comforting, supportive friend helping Violet get over her stage fright; but the next minute, she turns into an inconsiderate boor, cutting Violet off before she’s finished, by yelling out the next act from behind her back:  Cherry’s dad and his cornball vaudeville act.

What are we to make of all this? It is out of character for Cherry to be portrayed as some kind of Jekyll & Hyde character, so I’m befuddled. If Rivera wants to inject more conflict into the story, this seems like a tawdry, unrealistic way to accomplish it. Otherwise, I’m on Violet’s side and glad she’s not looking at me the way she eyes Cherry.

Hoo-boy … do you think Rivera should have stopped at panel 2? Sure, we all know this is just a light, comedic story, nothing serious; and that’s just fine. The humor is built into the storyline and doesn’t really require anything more. That’s what I’m trying to get at.

Sometimes writers don’t know when to stop and just go too far, such as the time I wrote a story that … er, sorry.

Getting back to my point, I think gratuitously “irrelevant (and bad) jokes” (e.g. panels 3 and 4) to fill out a strip only tarnish a story that should not need the extra help. It’s like gilding the proverbial lily. At least, let’s come up with better jokes.

Art Dept. In spite of the strip’s writing today, I like the drawing of Cherry in panel 4, where the sway of the curtain Cherry stands behind is echoed in her pose and enhanced by the long coat she wears.

For some reason, Rivera chose to not burden us with exactly how Mark and Range Shaw removed the bats from the concert hall, in spite of showing us Honest Ernest’s foolish attempt. Are we to think that the bats willingly flew into those bat houses, merely on sight? And where did the houses get placed?

Well, tempus fugit once again, as we move directly to the festival and concert. Cherry is certainly elegantly decked out. Yet it is fascinating that Rivera forces her characters to act foolishly or just ignorantly, simply to make a weak joke. Cherry welcomes “everyone”, but Violet is concerned whether there will be a good turnout.

What, if any, significance does a raccoon rearing up signify here, other than to check for predators or maybe Mark’s approach? It looks a bit defeated, but that is just anthropomorphizing. Perhaps it is a taxidermist’s display?

As is justly fitting, Honest Ernest has been relegated to support staff status. Time has clearly passed if Ernest has received all of his shots. They take two weeks to complete. Regular readers know that time is a fluid marker in the Trailverse and its passing is often ambiguous. It’s remarkable that Violet Cheshire would wait that long to get her Grand Hall cleared of bats. She doesn’t seem the patient type.

Mark covered bat houses on a Sunday page back on October 15, 2023.  So it is not surprising to see Rivera (Mark) use them in this story. That’s good planning on Rivera’s part. Otherwise, today’s strip adds nothing new to Cherry’s bats story. Filler strips like this one are annoying because they do not move the plot along or reveal new information. They just artificially expand the story to use up more calendar time because it is easier than having to create more stories.

We already know Ranger Shaw has a reclusive life style. But since he told Mark he was glad to help assemble the bat houses (panel 1), it makes no sense why Mark suggests (panel 3) the Ranger come over to learn how to do it again. Mark fairly gushes as if he is a showing off a school shop project to his parents. Rivera might want to study crafting puns from her comic strip predecessors, such as Darby Conley’s Get Fuzzy and Stephen Pastis’s Pearls Before Swine. Or maybe just quit trying.

Art Dept. Sometimes I wonder how Rivera puts these strips together. Out-of-proportion figures in Mark Trail are not unique, but do stand out. First, Ranger Shaw in panel 1 is suddenly so much broader than Mark, as if he is being played by John Candy. It isn’t as if he is simply “in front” of Mark and “closer to us.” He stands behind the bat houses held by Mark! Second, Mark’s head in panel 3 is mysteriously and laughably smaller than his body, to say nothing of his right arm being about 6 feet long, based on the angle of the forearm. Sure, these may be picky criticisms, but it’s my job as unofficial critical comic strip analyst and part-time know-it-all to tell it like I think it is (or isn’t). Feel free to quibble!

We return to Cherry’s bats-in-the-belfry story, accompanied by one mangy looking cardinal. Cherry’s adventures tend to be a bit lighter than Mark’s if you can imagine it. Well, Mark’s most recent story is an exception. Anyway, having Mark and Cherry’s interface in each other’s stories happens a lot, though mostly it’s Mark involved in Cherry’s affairs. I suppose it’s to keep The Brand as recognizable as possible. So, will Mark and Ranger Shaw work out any better than Honest Ernest? Any bets?

Art Dept. It is difficult to overlook the confusing scale of the figures in panel 1, especially Violet. Perhaps it’s like one of those trick rooms where the proportions of the surrounding spaces fool the eye into seeing people or objects incorrectly. Or maybe not. But it’s harder, still, to not look at that cardinal, which looks like it just came from a fight. Perhaps it isn’t getting along with its spouse. Good thing Mark showed up!

Rivera continues her portrayal of Honest Ernest as the archetypal primitive male, brash and always ready to rush into any situation based on sheer bravado. When faced with a setback, he attempts to brush it off as a minor annoyance. Well, that has been a male stereotype since, uh, forever. The ancient Greek warrior Achilles tried to brush off a Trojan arrow shot into his heel as just another workplace injury (“Just don’t call OSHA!”). That didn’t work out too well in the end for “swift-footed” Achilles. But in our current setting, Ernest got snicked by a bat and doesn’t get to brush it off. Instead, he is put his place (or into his van, if you will) by the women and rushed to treatment.

As longtime readers (Trailheads) know, it was standard practice in the pre-Rivera era to populate panels, whenever possible, with wildlife scampering around the scenery. Rivera continues that tradition, but almost always has the animal facing the reader, oftentimes with what appears to be some kind of human-like expression or emotion. I’m not sure what the motivation is, nor if I’m interpreting it correctly.

The CDC confirms that a scratch from a bat can spread rabies, if the bat is rabid. Since identifying and catching the specific bat that scratched Ernest is impossible, it can’t be tested, so unlucky Ernest is in line for a series of shots and additional treatment. Will Ernest take it seriously enough to get to the hospital? At least doctors don’t inject the vaccine in your stomach muscles anymore.

Props to Rivera for showing us a bat’s-eye view of Honest Ernest’s failed attempt to dislodge the bats! In fact, for a second, I thought Ernest had decided to hang upside-down from the top of the building to get at them! Nice to see that Rivera can still design an interesting, original composition when she wants.

Exactly what went wrong is not revealed and probably doesn’t matter. What matters is what occurred in panel 2, where it seems Ernest got scratched by at least one of the winged nocturnal mammals.

As noted yesterday, gloves would not have helped so much, though Cherry’s offer should have prompted Ernest to rethink his strategy. Perhaps better gear, such as a full-head mask, might have saved Ernest from the uncomfortable fate that likely awaits him at the hospital.

I get Rivera liking the dramatic effect of strong light pouring into a dark room from the efforts of somebody throwing open a door (as she drew in Mark’s prior adventure introducing us to Connor the cranky loser). However, that is not enough to give weight to this light story.

Are gardening gloves going to prevent anybody from getting bit by a bat!? No! I do wish Rivera would take her stories just a bit more seriously and not have everybody running around like ten-year-olds in adult bodies. Does even a swaggering buffoon like Honest Ernest think he can show up at a location to permanently remove bats from a building using no equipment, whatsoever? He’s got to have something in his van for this, and that might account for his boorish response in panel 3.

Anyway, I just don’t see the connection between Cherry’s icy retort in panel 4 and Rivera’s comment box. To me, at least, Cherry is just pissed off at being patronized by Ernest.

Wait a minute! Mark is supposed to be the expert on nature, the environment, and wildlife. It’s Mark we see each Sunday, right? So why is Cherry spouting animal-related statistics that only 57 people in the entire country probably know? Is she in secret talks with King Features Syndicate for her own spinoff comic strip? Well, Opus got his shot after Bloom County.

Anyway, what’s with this patronizing, know-it-all attitude of Cherry? It’s not any of her business to begin with. I tell ya, some people are just natural PITAs. I can see why Ernest is a touch peeved, though I fail to understand the forced pun in panel 4.

Oh, joy! Back to Cherry’s World. But wait:  Is this “old friends week” or just “thinking up new characters and plots take too much time”? We’ve had stories involving bees, spadefoot tadpoles, rash-infected pets, kudzu, and now bats. I’m thinking that Rivera maybe should have given Doc Davis second billing instead of Cherry.

Fine. So, Violet calls in her non-secret lover, Honest Ernest, to once again bring some half-baked and harmful scheme that will set him and Cherry against each other. Maybe that’s to be expected in a small town. Should Cherry seek out more clients and possibly more story ideas? Perhaps the Sunny Soleil Society offers great medical insurance to its independent contractors. Yet good ol’ Honest Ernest is always good for a laugh, a clueless foil for Cherry’s justice.

Perhaps Rivera is working on the assumption that if a story has no legs, then give it wings? Earlier I mentioned the statue-and-bees story (cf “Sunny and the Bees”) from 2021. There is, in fact, a similarity in story structure here: a) Violet and Cherry work on a garden project; b) the object of attention (statue, old hall) needs maintenance of some sort; c) when the object is uncovered/opened, the two are strafed by flying pests (bees, bats), resulting in d) Violet wanting to eradicate them. Is Violet going to call on Honest Ernest, like she did before?

Rivera’s gratuitous narration box in panel 3 not only fails to provide anything new or even humorous but makes no sense: Activities (“cleaning out the old hall”) do not go batty; people do. One wonders if today’s strip was designed primarily to make this “joke” or if Rivera felt the need to add a humorous comment because the story, alone, would not stand. Clearly, Cherry’s comment in panel 3 is a good enough ending on its own and even lightly humorous. It’s a more natural “in context” jest than the forced “humor” of the narration box. This kind of overemphasis of the punchline is not unique to Rivera. In fact, several joke-a-day strips often overstate their humor with gratuitous post-punchline comments. A good punchline does not need additional support.

Violet must ruin hats like I do tee shirts. Of course, since Violet is a parody of traditional Southern genteel ladies and culture, she is doomed to regularly experience disappointment, embarrassment, and exposure. Today is no exception.

But does this event signify the ending of their latest adventure, just as it was getting off the ground? Will Violet slink back to the safe confines of her office, leaving Cherry to look on in bemused sympathy? At least Cherry and Mark can exchange their experiences with bats (You’ll need to go back to the December 2015 archives to find the start of Mark’s bat cave story).

I don’t see where Violet has ever been concerned about the health of bees; her former and recent history show just the opposite (see Monday’s strip). After all, she is the one who wanted the original hive of bees to be exterminated by Honest Ernest. Let’s face it, Violet hates bees! So why would Cherry think that revealing the true fate of the bees would create bad feelings?

As for the gratuitous narration box in panel 4, what’s being saved here?  There are times when holding back can be valid (e.g. In a time of personal crisis), but this doesn’t seem like one of those times. Violet may be passive-aggressive, but she is not a child asking about Santa Claus.

I suppose that if you are trying to expand a (so far) weak storyline, then why not also pack it with pointless prattle that insults the intelligence of readers while killing their brain cells at the same time? This is like the old Mickey Rooney-Judy Garland “Let’s put on a show!” shtick, but without Mickey Rooney or Judy Garland.

As several of you know, I have always believed that expanding Cherry’s personality and role in the strip is one of Rivera’s best contributions. But I’m starting to have second thoughts. Cherry’s storylines seem to be getting more vapid, especially when compared with her earliest adventures. Maybe Cherry is “growing up” from her earlier brashness, but she’s becoming less interesting.

Please convince me that I’m wrong.

Is Cherry on salary with the SSS or is she putting in all this free time as charitable work which she can use to write off taxes? That is, she does have a garden and landscape business. Yet, it seems to be less and less of a necessity. This is odd, considering the fact that Mark has also not had a paying assignment for quite some time.

But I like how in panel 3 Cherry answers her own query she posited in panel 2. This rhetorical trick is popular with politicians, sales staff, and other hucksters, as it saves so much time and keeps the sucker one step behind. Cherry deftly proposes that local Lost Forest businesses should shoulder the burden of support for an activity promoting another private business (The Sunny Soleil Society, which acts on behalf of an HOA). Dang! If Cherry can pull this off, she should run for Mayor.