So the newspaper has an article about Mark Trail's future Letter to the Editors of The Many Miles Away Times Forum. That's quick turn around, and it answers one important question (If Mark Trail makes a declarative statement in the forest, will a journalist be there to hear it?), but not why your boss had to take her precious time away from applying make-up, baking cookies, and talking to her girlfriends on the phone to look at your stupid newspaper, Charlie.

I hope she gives you a sinister hook o' evil.

This guy must be the Diet Cherry Chocolate Dr. Pepper of Mark Trail henchmen, because when it comes to meeting his nefarious overlord, he has to wait two hours. TWO HOURS! Worse yet? His boss is a woman. A WOMAN!

Odds are, Mark has his way with this fellow in the span of a panel and doesn't pause to realize that Cherry got herself a job as a secretary at a nature-hating firm.

I imagine that the press conference Mark calls will go something like this...

Mark Trail:
People of Earth: In this era of rapid economic downturn, where jobs are fleeing the country like Irishmen from potato famine, where financial giants are sinking like ships with iceberg-sized holes, and where Presidential debates are put on hold indefinitely like the day I finally lose my virginity, please, stop and consider the plight of the town of Many Miles Away, specifically as it relates to the drying up of their wetland/grassland areas!

Stop walking away! *ahem* There are people; devious, mustachioed people; who would see our wetlands drained away! Oh, they may have grand intentions, and they may want to build buildings that will house places that will create jobs that will give you money to shop, buy, and provide for your family, but their choice of facial hair clearly indicates that they are evil and are out to destroy our very way of life!

Take, for instance, the plight of poor Pop! The mustache man drained away his water, leaving him with a pathetic puddle! What will happen to him? What will happen to his wife? His granddaughter? His granddaughter's pet raccoon, who stole my wallet, my watch, and my identity?

With a message like that, how could anybody be in favor of the technological terror lying in wait for Many Miles Away?

It's a mystery of the world: Why oh why would a corporation drain away a wetland/grassland (which one is it, Pop?).

Thanks to the magic of multiple panels, the mystery is solved for us. The man in charge of the project has a mustache, which, in Mark Trail, makes you evil. Evil means that you hate nature. Evil means that you have a "me first, animals dead last" mentality. A mustache means that you've got a problem: An outdoor writer with one hell of a right hook.

Evil corporate stooge: You're next.

Does "other families" refer to that doe (a deer, a female deer) and her fawn? If so, note the lack of concern on their cute faces. Did you notice? No? That's because they're not concerned, old man.

Sure, Mark may have taken a picture of the last remaining puddle in Many Miles Away, but sir, your wetlands still appear to be wet. Wet and thriving. Look at the green! Look at it! Sure there's dead trees, but that's the wilderness, and things die there.

The facts of life, motherfucker: Do you know them?

What was previously a storyline about a cute, cuddly, rabid theif who was diverting the water supply for his marijuana patch has become a boring, dry strip about zoning codes and land developers. Things will only be made good if Mark punches a Senator. A U.S. Senator. State ones don't count.

How adorable! That little girl has taught her pet raccoon to steal things specifically from Mark Trail!

What the fuck kind of pet is a raccoon, anyhow? They have diseases. They go through garbage like Heathcliff goes through garbage. Not a good pet, even if you're stuck in a wetland. Clearly, the grandparents are conspiring to kill Pamela with kindness. A raccoon is just a few steps away from a smallpox infested blanket.

Edit: Upon further review, Pamela looks like a boy with a mullet. Hmmm...