We see from this 2010 strip that there is at least one church somewhere in or around Westview. Maybe it’s reserved solely for funerals, because all weddings in town occur either in a pizza parlor, or people’s front yards, or in the middle of a public park. Note that in panel 3, clever Rachel has apparently folded Wally’s I.O.U. into a ring which she wears on her finger.
Tag: park bench
Let’s Knot Go There
MKay
August 4, 2013 at 1:22 pm
Mop the floor at Montoni’s! It’s time for another society page gala!merrypookster
August 4, 2013 at 11:55 pm
Better hurry and book Montoni’sbobanero
August 5, 2013 at 8:35 am
Oh Boy!! Another Montoni’s wedding reception coming up…
“Funky’s going to want us to get married at Montoni’s, you know…” Thankfully, though, today Wally surprises us all, finally showing a little backbone and even some admirable restraint. Among the perfectly justifiable responses he could offer: “Who gives a fuck what Funky wants?” “Have our wedding in the pizzeria where we both work? Like I’m not humiliated enough by having to give you an I.O.U. instead of a ring…” Instead, our hero cooly dispenses some geeky t-shirt wisdom.
Man’s Best Man
The best man is the chief assistant to the groom at a wedding and (along with Maid of Honor) is the third most important in attendance after the Bride and Groom. In most modern, English-speaking countries, the groom extends this honor to someone who is close to him, generally his oldest and closest male friend, or a sibling.
At first, Wally’s selection of Buddy as best “man” seems like another one of Batiuk’s goofy, contrived plot flourishes. But actually, sadly, it makes sense. Since he appeared on his “widow” Becky’s doorstep four years ago, Wally’s been shunned by everyone he left behind when he went off to serve his country. Even his country didn’t bother to verify that the human remains they shipped home for burial were his. He was made to endure the most awkward homecoming ever before Becky handed him his trombone and showed him the door. His only known relative, uncle cousin Funky, has had little to do with him since giving him a job and surreptitiously swiping his sidearm.
Calling all guest authors! Putting out the call to see if any of y’all feel like filling in for a week, maybe 2, starting Monday. Drop me a line thru the usual channels. Prospective guest authors (who haven’t “guested” yet) are welcome to apply too…WordPress or blogging experience a plus. Use the Contact SoSF form in the right sidebar! Thanks. –TFH
The Be-tr-owe-thal
“It’s an I.O.U. for an engagement ring.” Y’know, Wally, lots of guys decide to pop the question even if they don’t have the scratch for a diamond ring. But a written I.O.U.? Weak, dude. A two bit ring from a Crackerback jox would’ve been preferable to that. No doubt a Niagara Falls honeymoon is in store…fifty years from now.
Home Sweet Trombone
Even though Wally’s PTSD is kept in check thanks to Buddy, he’s still not immune to midlife doubt and regret. Today he muses about how life “should be” for him and Rachel (and presumably her little boy Robbie, wherever the hell he’s been since January 2011). Or given his absent-mindedness around Rachel (see Wednesday’s “chick magnet” strip), perhaps the “we” Wally’s speaking of is him, Becky, and their two children, stolen away from him by Dead Skunk Head John during his captivity in Iraquistan.
Son of Stuck Funky 
