Today in THE JOHNSON FOLLIES we meet the neighbors: a couple of swells who like to walk around the 'hood with feather boas and really hard, shiny hair. It's like they're taunting all the poor folk with their status and stiffness. But who can blame them? Admit it: if you were rich, you'd parade around the block in a crotchless tux while sampling some Grey Poupon because, fuck, that's what rich people DO.
Mark, still inexplicably holding on to the rocketing canine because he's some middle-class slob(?), slams into the rich folk who go flying like a couple of handcrafted Italian bowling pins. Take that, rich people!!
Mm. Looks like we get a glimpse up the lady's skirt as she gets knocked backward. Had I been doing this strip today you would have seen her extremely hairy cooch. Also, blood. Or a baby's face.
Yes, I've really matured in the last thirty years.