So May-bee called around to her friends, implying that Hazard Bay has phone service.
Rip has not bothered to even attempt to contact Breezy, the woman we were earlier cheering on as the love of his life, his wife, the mother of his child, and a central part of the strip.
I’ll freely admit that Breezy did not distinguish herself as Rip’s supervisor, but we still know that Breezy is a solid adventuress, just as much as a wise cracker as Rip, that Baby Fireball is a hoot, and, despite having borne one child, Breezy is still as hot as any nineteen year old out there.
What, exactly, is Rip’s malfunction? Any normal, sane man, married to a woman like Breezy, having been separated from female companionship for months, knowing that a welcome of enthusiastic, nay, ecstatic, marital bliss awaits him, not to mention pancakes, would bend Heaven and Earth to rejoin his wife again once that was possible.
And yet, Rip sits on his hands out in the middle of nowhere.
May 03, 2014
October 25, 2017