The official Jack Chick introduction for this one reads:
Holly tells her friend about Jesus, then is kidnapped. Will her Jesus help her escape?
“Will her Jesus…”? Does everyone get their own or something?
Anyway, the general premise for this one is actually “DURRRRRR”, like most of the others. The only thing it really illustrates is Jack’s almost complete lack of touch with reality, and how he’s not above being just entirely insane and contrived. Not to spoil it or anything, but this one ends with a Deus ex Machina, just like the others!
Kidnapping tip #3327: Be sure to remove one shoe from your victim, so the lack of symmetry will drive them mad!
Jack Chick’s Kidnapped, starring O.J. Simpson and Woody Allen.
Maybe they’d be able to catch them if their communication was a little more, erm, prompt. “When did this happen?” “Eh, a few days ago. Sorry I forgot to tell you.”
Now it’s Bud Cort and Michael Clark Duncan.
Man, it’s always those damn Ay-rabs, isn’t it? And why bother dragging her all the way to Mexico if the request comes from Saudi Arabia? Those guys take private planes to and from here all the damn time. How often do you think they go to Mexico?
Someone’s just having sex with a forty-year-old ten years at a time is all.
You know, if we killed people for everything the Bible tells us, there would be maybe six people left on the planet, and they’d just be too far away from each other to stone each other to death. I notice that “buyeth a man” has been suspiciously omitted, here. Why punish one half of the transaction without punishing the other? You can’t sell without someone purchasing.
Uh-oh! Sunday morning–shouldn’t they be in church?
I wonder if Mrs. Comfort knows Mamma Sunshine.
Man, her eyes take up about an entire fifth of her face.
“I need to make sure I’m on my way to heaven, ’cause things keep exploding behind me!”
Mrs. Comfort has no pupils! Why does she have no pupils?
Okay, so somehow we go from an explosion of white in the background to total blackness. Perhaps it reflects the blackness in that little girl’s soul on account of her filthy lies.
These people are extremely easily led. All you need is a ridiculous premise and someone to verify it, and they’re apparently sold. “Mrs. Comfort, is it true that if I don’t smear peanut butter into my hair while chewing tree bark, God will never love me?” “Yes, child, it’s true.” “Oh, no! I’m in deep trouble!”
Is… she growing a Hitler mustache? Why do most of Jack’s protagonists, in both subtle and obvious ways, bear resemblance to Hitler? And why are many of his antagonists portrayed as stout people with large noses?
How does the little girl know how to capitalize the “H” in her speech bubble? Some Little Orphan Annie lookalike drags her over to Mrs. Almost-Hitler’s house, and suddenly she’s all versed in the grammar of Christianity?
“With God, nothing is impossible.” Well, except for making Terri Schiavo not brain-dead anymore. Erm, and limb regeneration. And your parents getting back together after their divorce. And getting that boy Tommy to like you. And your grandma recovering from cancer. And president Bush becoming a strong leader. And the war in Iraq being quick and effortless, with no casualties. And… well, just about every prayer you’ve ever made, really.
Take an anatomy class, Jack. Even flayed, the human body would still retain some inherent proportions and arrangements. This forced foreshortening makes his left arm look about twice as long as his right, even with the intended perspective. And, what, is he wearing black sweatpants? I didn’t know they made those back then.
Does it always have to involve crying? God, you’d be less likely to find this much bawling in a poll of the recently raped.
So the little girl went home, and told her mother exactly how fat she looked in that dress, because lying is always bad and there’s no such thing as moral ambiguity.
“…now Donna’s on her way to heaven.” Directly on her way. Mrs. Comfort is going to club her over the head, so she can go to heaven in spotless condition before she has a chance to lie again.
So he can just talk into the air and it’ll transmit through the radio without his having to depress any buttons? And why is his body closer to facing us than the front of the car?
I like the turtleneck. Who the fuck is he supposed to be, Shaft sans the groovy?
Those kids look dangerously close to the front of the car–a little late to be yelling “stop”.
“We’ll just stay down here with the milkman mommy tells us to call ‘uncle’.” What’s that guy doing there, anyway? Did he just stumble through a time portal from the 1940’s?
“Stop it you animal“? Bit of a hasty judgment to conclude they’re fighting.
You can’t believe it, huh? Violence is just totally outside the bounds of predictable human behavior for you? How long have you been a cop, anyway?
Wait, who are the kids in the background? And what’s with all the unnecessary emphasis on all the words? Are they having an argument?
I guess he has a Little Orphan Annie fetish or something. “[N]ext pigeon”? Are we missing some relevant backstory, here?
Why do his criminals look so much less disgusting than his gays?
Wow, she’s really going to town on the guy. Look, she’s got the iron, a frying pan, a shoe. And she’s hideous. This is like Lynndie England, 2016.
Right, right–this won’t happen again. All you have to do is promise, and it’s a guarantee that there’s absolutely no way you could ever do it again. So for all you teenaged girls reading this, if your boyfriend hits you and then says “baby, baby, I can change! I don’t mean it! It’ll never happen again, I promise”, he totally means it and he’ll never do it again.
And, right, going to church somehow automatically makes you a good person. I’ll elaborate in the next panel.
Ahem. Courtesy of Jane:
1. John Schmitz: Never heard of him? He was a big California Republican during the 70s, a member of the John Birch society who thought Reagan and Nixon were liberals. He won a US House seat in 1970 trumpeting family values. “They like to be called gays,” he said. “I prefer to call them queers.” He described pro-choice supporters as “a sea of hard, Jewish and (arguably) female faces,” and made a career decrying America’s moral decrepitude. When George Wallace was shot and dropped out of the 1972 Presidential race Schmitz stepped in and ran as the candidate for the American Independent Party, garnering 1 million votes.
He had a picture-perfect family and a cheerleader daughter named Mary Kay he liked to call “Cake” who absolutely adored him. But all was not as it seemed to be. In 1982 a woman named Carla Stuckle was accused of child abuse and was forced to name the father of the child as a condition of his return — and she named her former professor, John Schmitz, who it turned out had another family on the side. Schmitz acknowledged that the boy was his, as well as the child’s older sister, but he said “I do not and will not support him financially. It is her responsibility to take care of him.” Conservative voters had slightly different standards in the 80s, I guess, because it ended Schmitz’ career. When Stuckle died the two children were taken in by psychic Jeanne Dixon, and when Dixon died in 1997 the children became wards of the state and went to an orphanage.
Young “Cake” was evidently devastated by the experience. Or so she claimed when she was on trial years later for statutory rape under her married name, Mary Kay LeTourneau.
2. Beverly Russell: Who could forget Newt Gingrich salivating over the Susan Smith tragedy? “I think that the mother killing the two children in South Carolina vividly reminds every American how sick the society is getting and how much we need to change things,” he said. “The only way you get change is to vote Republican.”
Of course, nobody in the ever-vigilant media asked Newt what he thought when it was later revealed that Smith had been molested as a young girl by her stepfather, Beverly Russell, a big Republican leader in South Carolina who was also a local organizer of Pat Robertson’s Christian Coalition that championed “family values” and “school prayer” as Republican virtues. Smith had attempted suicide twice, at 13 and 18, and at 15 had told authorities that her stepfather had been sexually molesting her. Russell admitted the molestation at the time to a social-service worker who investigated the allegations, but he agreed to seek counseling and the case against the prominent businessman was quickly closed by law enforcement.
At Smith’s trial Russell admitted to having sex with her two months before the murders. Newt and his “pro-family” forces went on to dismember the Child Abuse Prevention and Treatment Act in the House. Because a man’s home, you know, is his castle.
3. Bob Barr: I guess it’s because of Bob Barr’s prominent role in the Clinton impeachment hearings that his story always galls the hell out of me. He is Mr. Family Values himself, responsible for drafting the Defense of Marriage Act banning gay marriage, who is himself twice-divorced and has failed to pay child support to the children of his first two wives. He was also photographed licking the whipped cream off of two strippers at his inaugural party. Which is probably what he was referring to when he said “The flames of hedonism, the flames of narcissism, the flames of self-centered morality are licking at the very foundation of our society, the family unit.” He just forgot to add “and a set of well-formed bazoombas.”
Barr has also risen to power as a screaming champion of the anti-abortion movement. He claimed in 1992 that he would do “everything in his power” to stop a family member from having an abortion — even if they had been raped. Any family member, that is, except his wife, who claims that in 1983 he supported her in her decision to have an abortion — even drove her to the clinic and paid for the procedure.
Courtesy Stop Republican Pedophilia:
Republican anti-abortion activist Neal Horsley admitted to having sex with a mule.
Republican activist Matthew Glavin, who preached family values, was caught masturbating in public and fondling an undercover park ranger.
Republican Congressman and family values advocate Edward Schrock resigned from Congress after he was caught seeking sex on adult telephone lines for homosexuals.
Republican preacher Jimmy Swaggart preached fidelity, but cheated on his wife with a prostitute.
Republican anti-abortion activist John Allen Burt was charged with sexual misconduct involving a 15-year old girl.
Republican city councilman Mark Harris, who is described as a “good military man” and “church goer,” was convicted of repeatedly having sex with an 11-year-old girl and sentenced to 12 years in prison.
Republican benefactor of conservative Christian groups, Richard A. Dasen Sr., was charged with rape for allegedly paying a 15-year old girl for sex. Dasen, 62, who is married with grown children and several grandchildren, has allegedly told police that over the past decade he paid more than $1 million to have sex with a large number of young women.
Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.
Yes, having Christianity in your life just totally makes you a good person. Christians = “good”, and non-Christians = “bad”, and nobody can be moral without believing in Jesus.
“Don’t worry, mister! When I’m stuck with a day that’s grey and lonely, I just stick out my chin and grin and say ‘the sun’ll come out tomorrow’.”
Anyone stupid enough to think a sane adult male would keep kittens in the trunk of his car, and that they’d survive in there all constantly mewling and sucking up the air deserves to be abducted.
You know, why tell her you lied? Isn’t it pretty obvious that if there are no kittens in the trunk, you weren’t telling the truth when you said there were? I mean, sure, she’s dumb enough to fall for the “kittens in the trunk” maneuver, but that doesn’t mean she can’t not see kittens.
And why not slam the trunk a little harder and maybe draw more attention to yourself? How totally unprofessional.
Yes, go back to church so you can have yet another aspect of your lives to hate each other about.
“I don’t want to go through this again.” Yeah, I’m sure you don’t want to have to spend another whole ten minutes proselytizing to two bulbous, sagging, middle-aged idiots who pose about as much of a real threat to each other (judging by the ease with which the officer was able to get them to be all kissy and lovey again) as two bowls of soup on opposite sides of a room. WHAT AN ORDEAL!
I… don’t know what to say. This is too silly for words. If Jesus really gave suggestions to people who asked him for help, don’t you think they wouldn’t totally fuck up as much as they do?
And, man, how huge is that trunk?
Again, what an amateur. Any kidnapper with any self-respect at all would just ignore the screaming and threatening and pleading.
Okay, so this cop just let two people who were beating the living shit out of each other with irons and frying pans go with barely a warning, but a guy drifts over the line on the road once, and he’s about to pull him over for it? Come on.
I wonder if fundamentalists really do hear voices when they “talk to Jesus”. It… could explain quite a bit.
Oh, so not only does he pull the guy over for going over the line, he has him come out of the vehicle. And how does he know somebody is in there, anyway? It could be, erm, those kittens.
“And knowing is half the battle. G.I. Joooooe”
Come on, if she didn’t have the fucking sense to bang on the trunk of her own accord, she deserves not to be saved by the disproportionately-aggressive police officer.
Oh, yes, we have an awesome God, who always answers our prayers when they pertain to overcoming evil. That’s why bad things NEVER happen to good people EVER, and the world is always SUNSHINE and LOLLIPOPS.
Proselytize, proselytize, proselytize, proselytize.