For the third year in a row, we are getting a Pizza Monster special for Halloween. I can only hope that this year is just as exciting as last year, when Funky hired a gynophobic cosplayer to threaten the Pizza Monster with a handgun.
Working late tonight myself, so I’ll see all you fine folks in the comments tomorrow!
So now we’re back to “Funky’s Body is Failing, Chapter 43”. Is that supposed to be Corey in the first panel? I hope so, because it’s legitimately hilarious that he’d have no clue that his dad is about to have surgery. Years ago, somebody must have told Batiuk that the way to get readers up to speed on what’s happening in your story is to have one character ask another what’s happening, because he sure does it a lot, and it’s super awkward every time.
Oh, and Funky is still nervous, in case you didn’t know. I really don’t know why Batiuk thinks “someone is nervous about surgery” is comedy gold, but he does.
Thanks to Billy the Skink for pointing out yesterday that Chez Francois is an actual fancy restaurant in Ohio. I had just assumed it was made up, because the name sounded so Batiukian. And our Ohio correspondent Rusty Shackleford even provided a review.
I don’t know what Rusty ordered when he was there, but whatever it was it cost him a pretty penny. Frankie’s House is no ten-dollar steak joint. This is the kind of place that serves Waygu and quail eggs and escargot. Where a ham on arugula salad, dressed with olive oil, will put you back 25 bucks.
Maybe Donna and Crazy will partake of the special this month. A seven course meal, paired with a wine for every course, called, “Truffles Truffles Truffles.” After eating this tour of mushrooms, you’d be full of more fungus than a musty bin of unwashed gym socks. I’m sure that Montoni’s finest
condimento per l’insalata would pair well atop any of these dishes.
Duo of Eggs & Truffles, Truffle Cappuccino
Ohio Proud Scrambled eggs cooked with truffle butter, garnished with black truffles and truffle oil, and a Cappuccino of purée of fall wild mushrooms and black “Burgundy” truffles, truffle foam.
Maine Diver Sea Scallop En Croûte, Black Truffle Butter
A Maine diver sea scallop served in its natural shell, filled with sliced truffles and truffle butter, wrapped in puff pastry.
Soufflé au Fromage, Black Truffle and Quail Egg
A blend of Ubriaco and Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese, oven baked in a ramekin and topped with a poached quail egg and freshly shaved black truffles.
Puglia Tagliatelle, “Alba” White Truffles
Freshly shaved White Truffles served over Puglia tagliatelle with truffle butter and fine herbs.
Char-Grilled Farmed Raised Coturnix Quail, Black “Burgundy” Truffle Butter Sauce
Char-grilled quail filled with a quail and truffle forcemeat, serve with a chestnut mousseline, finished with Black “Burgundy” truffle butter sauce.
Or
Seasonal Wild Mushroom, Truffles & Foie Gras, en Croûte
Wild mushroom and truffle consommé, with Foie Gras, duck confit and Black “Burgundy” Truffles topped with puff pastry.
Roast Tenderloin of Veal, Sauce Périgueux
Tenderloin of Wisconsin Veal, served over a delicata squash filled with white and black truffle risotto finished with wild mushrooms and a truffle reduction sauce.
Or
Grilled Ora King Salmon Filet, Wild Mushroom, Truffle Butter Sauce
Char-grilled New Zealand King Salmon served over baby bok choy, seasonal wild mushrooms, finished with truffle butter sauce.
White Truffle Ice Cream, Truffle Honey & Seasonal Berries
French vanilla bean ice cream with Alba White Truffles, Truffle honey, almond tuile and seasonal berries.
$200 per guest
Tax & Gratuity not included
*$75.00 per person supplemental charge for a 2.5oz. pour of the above dinner wines and 2oz. pour of the dessert wine.
Ugh. What an anti-climax. It is the peak of Batikuian storytelling to hinge an entire week’s worth of strips on a non-existent conflict. We never had to be worried about how Donna would receive her bottle of salad dressing, because Crazy Harry always had a stock fancy restaurant in his back pocket. He didn’t mention this to Funky or Holly because he doesn’t want to ruin what’s left of his eccentric mystique by admitting he’s basically planning a cookie cutter anniversary with a bit of oil and vinegar pregaming.
Unless the entire salad dressing gift ceremony was some kind of morality test? And if Donna hadn’t sufficiently appreciated the bottle of Montoni’s finest Crazy would just have driven her to Toxic Taco.
Regardless, it’s a good thing that the salad dressing wasn’t actually a tiny bottle of champagne, because judging by the look on Donna’s face in panel two, she’s already plenty intoxicated.
Boy, that is one clunky sentence in panel one. Why didn’t Batiuk just have her read the card out loud? All so those filthy newspaper casuals that haven’t been devotedly reading all week aren’t lost.
At least Donna likes the gift. And to me this feels different than Minty loving her stupid engagement tiger. In the hands of a more trustworthy author, this could be decent character work. Everyone thought Crazy was crazy for buying his wife salad dressing, but he knew her better than anyone and knew that she’d like it.
It’s an anniversary present, not an engagement ring/tiger. It can be a sentimental pun costing less than 10 dollars, if that’s how the couple rolls. I mean, my parents never get each other anything for their anniversary. They just use it as an excuse to go out to eat. At a buffet. Because my dad doesn’t have the patience to sit at a restaurant that takes your order. So it’s a plateful of lo mein and imitation crabmeat rangoon. The peak of romance.
Gifts are funny things. The closer you are, the more strange and esoteric your presents to each other can become. I gave my aunt a rock for her birthday this year. It was her favorite present, because my aunt is bonkers for interesting looking rocks. We get my dad a bale of socks every Christmas, and every Christmas he grins unironically and goes, “Gooood. I can use these!” One year my mom taped a tiny rubber hand to a CD album of I Walk the Line because I’d asked for a fistful of cash. Inside the case was the actual money.
My mom specializes in weird, yet meaningful, presents. One year for Christmas, she got me a book on Romanian orphanages, and wrote a little note inside, “Now you can learn about your heritage.” I laughed hysterically for ten minutes. All because my family has an inside joke dating back to the 1992 Olympics, where my mom swore that one of the gymnasts looked like me, and improvised an entire story about how I’d been adopted from Romania after failing to show any athletic talent.
The best gifts come with an unspoken message. And the message is, “I know you.”
All of this to say, if Donna had any personality whatsoever, and we had some prior establishment of Donna and Harry’s marriage, this wouldn’t feel so hollow and bland and borderline insulting. As it is, Epicus put it very well in a comment on yesterday’s strip:
Every Act III marriage is exactly the same. It wasn’t always like that during Act II, but now they’re all identical. Blissfully unaware lummox husband, perpetually disappointed-yet-patient wife tolerating her moron’s idiocy with wry resignation. Cayla, Holly, Donna, Jessica, Harriet…the only one that doesn’t fit the pattern is Mason & Cindy, where the roles are sort of reversed.
Son of Stuck Funky 