Seen a lot of comics in my time, but never a dialogue like this one.
Mmmmf,mmmf, Mmmmmmfff? Sorry; i downing the last tangy bite of warm pastrami, sauerkraut and Russian dressing on toasted rye. You were saying?
My favorite part of this enjoyable page is the last frame, which anchors the bottom of this page with a close-up of Marx’s Sunday-school teacher face and inviting posture…and his eyes on us, the audience. Who’s up for a little edification?
The Rachael, with coldslaw and pastrami, is also called the “California Reuben;” although using either term in large chunks of the Golden State only gets you a blank look until you spell out the ingredients for the eager but newly employed deli workers. Kids these days!
A loud emotional squawk from a peacock? Surely you jest.
Hate to look at a Marx offer with a jaundiced eye but…there ain’t no way Allen can use that porta-loo. Marx is such a tease.
Well they are toons so add in other questions I have like: can you throw the interdimensional pies, will the hot peppers make your mouth shoot out flames, did Marx pack in more of thos bubble-gum cigars….
heh, offer a reader a cherry and they’ll want a cherry pie….
Don’t let Marx, the irreverent schmalzt inside the overcoat, distract you from some really outstanding artwork on this page. Shattering the blackness into shards of Raven is just the cherry on the top of a pile of excellence (for example how the eye is guided back and forth down the page by the placement of detail and blankness). Yowza!
Sounds Gouda to me.