Funny Comics #1 (Modern Store Publications, 1955) is a pocket-sized, all-humor anthology built entirely around talking animals. The lead feature, Anthony and Cleopatra, pits a long-suffering dog against a scheming cat whose booby traps land Anthony in front of a beat cop and eventually behind bars. The Mice-Keteers follows three mice who set out to build a better mousetrap — the dim one, Jonathan, demonstrates his "intellijunts" by blowing bubbles out of his finger, and the prototype detonates. The back half belongs to Blunderbunny, billed on its splash panel as A Funny Films feature, in which a rabbit calling himself the world's greatest inventor builds a machine that invents things for him, floods the neighbourhood with runaway gadgets, and is ordered by a police sergeant to cease inventing for thirty days. The cover — a mouse popping bubbles against a flat red field — carries the Comics Code Authority seal, ACG's "A Good Comic" diamond, and an unusual 7¢ price.

That price is the most interesting thing about the book. Modern Store Publications existed for a single year and published nothing but this line of six digest-format reprint comics — siblings include Gay Comics, Tickle Comics and Whee Comics, all cover-priced at seven cents. Dealers describe these as an oddity: possibly sold at that unusual retail price, but more likely handed out by retailers as giveaways. The contents were pulled from ACG's own back catalogue and reformatted — GCD's index of the sister title Tickle Comics #1 documents stories reformatted from Giggle Comics, expanded from three pages to five to fit the smaller page. The timing was not accidental: 1955 was a brutal year for ACG, which cancelled all four of its long-running humor titles — Cookie, Giggle Comics, Ha Ha Comics and The Kilroys. Recycling that inventory into cheap store-counter digests was a way to squeeze value out of a genre the newsstand had abandoned.

For a modern reader the appeal is threefold. It is a physical artefact of the post-Code shakeout — a mainstream publisher, one year after the Senate hearings, retreating into the safest possible material and the cheapest possible format. It preserves ACG's funny-animal house style, the loose, rubbery Sangor Shop cartooning that has been far less reprinted than the company's horror line. And the giveaway format itself makes it genuinely scarce: books handed out at store counters were read to pieces rather than collected, which is why the six Modern Store titles are thinly documented even in specialist databases today.