Another year, another Yankees v Red Sox series

Marty:
Hey, Callaghan, ready to be embarrassed?

 

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Bill:
Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, it's the eternal cunctator, Mahty Silvahstein.

 

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Marty:
Funny, Bill, have I ever told you how being insulted by you is like being insulted by a mouse?

 

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Bill:
Jeez, Mahts, you're having to look to Hank Steinbrennah for your material these days? That's pretty weak, and by weak I mean like a Johnny Damon throw from the outfield.

 

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Marty:
That's it, Bill. Beat on that straw man. Meanwhile, Monday morning you and your other frigtard Red Sux blow buddies can stand around your water cooler dismissing your Yankee sweepage and ass branding as "it being early yet."

 

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Bill:
Hey, Mahts, I seem to be missing my favorite World Champions t-shirt, you haven't seen it anywhere have you?

 

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Author's Notes
I discovered this wonderful word "cunctator" from the Word Fugitives column in the May issue of The Atlantic. According to the column, most dictionaries define it to mean "delayer or procrastinator" but per the OED it was once more commonly used to mean one who overstays one's welcome. It's this latter meaning that Bill is intending in the 2nd panel today.

Comments

[ParkerStPete]

Their anonymous commentary: cowardly, pathetic tee-shirt burial. Our anonymous commentary: manly, kick-ass barrel roll at Mach 1. 'Nuff said.

[pinstripe thunder]

Not a big fan of righteous indignation myself, but I'll bet she was wicked hot. Bet you got her number, too, righteous and all. And it certainly wasn't Mach 1, Mav, though that's the kinda stuff urban legends are made of.