In a move sure to cause cramps among funnies-page readers, Todd the Dinosaur appears to have an unpleasant little case of constipation.
We recognize intestinal blockage isn't the most welcome of topics, even less so when put in the context of the comics page, a virtual haven from talk of bodily functions and even all matters scatological. When's the last time you head tomcatting Heathcliff talk about the troubles of lvign with genital warts,or see Cookie Bumstead ask a friend to borrow a maxi-pad?
The comics are supposed to be a venue free from talk about hygiene, even that of the brontosaurus sort (yes, we realize Todd is a T. Rex, but brontosaurus just sounded better in that exact moment). So you can imagine a big ol' dinosaur talking about how the consumption of glitter and paste is keeping him from being regular would be cause for consternation.
As upsetting as cartoonist Patrick Roberts' decision is to bring up such a topic, now we have to content with the aftermath: How will Todd clean out his plumbing? Will he return to normal by tomorrow - and, if so, how will we know?
Perhaps Todd's frankness about his peristalsis shouldn't be that surprising. This is a character, after all, who was caught eating roadkill a few years back. Besides, after being read day in and day out for years, the comics become like old, familar friends. And who hasn't confided in a pal once in a blue moon about being out of sorts or off one's game?
At the very least, this arts-and-crafts-induced situation will be good for Todd's education, because we think he's about to have time to get some reading done.
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