Lapham is really enjoying his high school arc. It’s not as violent anymore because of Virginia getting the cops involved with the brawl. Or so Leon, who’s around to explain everything to Virginia because she’s become a caricature, says.
Leon and Virginia sit around and comment on the events in the issue, a jock-related love triangle. Because everyone reading Stray Bullets wants to read a misanthropic, X-rated version of “Friday Night Lights.” It should be better, for Lapham to take the traditional lionizing of high school athletes and show the realistic side of it but… it’s not. It’s terrible. It’s a dumb idea for a story and Lapham is incompetent at executing it.
From the first couple pages, I could tell he was slacking on the art and I kept hoping he wouldn’t slack on the writing too. I kept waiting for a point. There isn’t any point.
Bamboozled; writer, artist, and letterer, David Lapham; editors, Renee Miller and Maria Lapham; publisher, El Capitán Books.