Psychosis and Schizophrenia

See it here.

The Dinette Set artist, Julie Larson, does not trust her audience. Either that or she trusts they are dimwitted mouth-breathers.

Just witness the assault on the reader's intelligence from Joy in this chestnut from 21 October 2004: "I want my dollar back for this cheap watch I just bought and broke."

• "I want my dollar back" - apparently worried we couldn't piece together all the other evidence that we are in a dollar store and assume the price of the watch.
  
• "for this cheap watch" - am I to assume there's a variety of dollar watch that is not cheap?
  
• "I just bought" - is the fact that she just bought it actually important?

About the only thing of true interest is Joy's admission that she broke the watch. The watch did not simply stop working, as you'd expect from a $1.00 watch. No, Joy broke it. She admits as much. Apparently Joy and Burl go to thrift shops, buy merchandise, break it deliberately, then attempt to return it. I can't explain why they do it since there's no percentage in it. So let's just assume it's what happens when Joy goes off her medication and that Burl is an enabler.

What really caught my eye about the panel, however, is the complicated "Factory Seconds 99-Piece Zebra Puzzle" Burl wants in exchange. Burl is so emphatic that it can't break, we have to assume the puzzle is guaranteed to be defective. And yet, I have to wonder if a puzzle wouldn't qualify as an item for which you'd expect to pay no more than $1.00, even in perfect condition.

Still, we'll have to give Ms. Larson the benefit of the doubt and assume the puzzle is defective. But the myriad details we get about the puzzle are confusing in the aggregate and confusing in isolation, making it virtually impossible to accurately identify why Burl will be spending his nights trying to solve the unsolvable before Joy's psychosis demands that they return the puzzle also.

• Is it the fact that the puzzle is a factory second? I have no idea what a factory second puzzle would be, but the number 99 is bolded, which strongly suggests the problem is that the puzzle is missing a piece (it should be a 100-piece puzzle). I have a hard time imagining a Quality Assurance process at the puzzle factory that is able to count the pieces in each box and seperate the 99-piece puzzles from the 100-piece puzzles. Though this is the most plausible explanation.
  
• And yet the subject matter of the puzzle is, conspicuously and specifically, described. This is no generic puzzle; it is a "Zebra" puzzle, clearly suggesting that a puzzle of a black and white animal involves a difficulty level beyond the ordinary. Thus making it unsolvable for all but the most expert puzzleteers.
  

So which is it? Is the puzzle impossible to solve because it is missing a piece? Or is it just too hard for Burl?

At the end of the day, we have to face the fact that this panel is as pschizophrenic as Joy is psychotic. On the one hand, every possible detail is spoon fed until the reader is whacking their forehead in frustration. On the other, confusing details which don't add up to anything are piled on until the reader is whacking their forehead in frustration.

In the final analysis, the only thing you can be sure of is that reading The Dinette Set may cause irreversible, self-inflicted brain damage.

If we're in a store, you know the margins will be busy.

• Is it just me, or can you imagine this same subject matter being dealt with in They'll Do it Everytime? Of course, it's a toss-up whether that serial nuisance of a panel would ask us to laugh at the couple making a stink about a $1.00 item or the store that won't give a refund.
• I must have slept through the English composition class where the exclamation point/ellipses punctuation combo was described.
  
• I am seriously disturbed to learn that the running Pong golf equipment gag has been going on since 2004.
• I think the side of one puzzle box has the word "DIRECTIONS" printed on it. And printed so large it doesn't leave room for the actual directions.
• $1.00 for "cling-free" Saran Wrap would be the greatest bargain in the world if such a substance existed. Although, I admit the intended joke may be that it doesn't cling to anything rather than just not clinging to itself.
  
• If you're still not clear that $1.00 is too little to pay for a watch, the watch goes by the brand name No Time which is neither necessary, funny, or an identifiable play on a brand name.