…but I can only take so much of this halt-and-start interrogation on my morals and ethics while I watch your Frosted Lime Congeal congeal even more. I’m outa here!
And because our sweet Mooncattie had to say something unfortunate (“Dear Lord, Please don’t let tomorrow’s edition include the words “Let me tell you a story”!), here’s something horrific a day early (sorry, Mooncattie!):
For some reason, I’m not taking the chance of this plot-line going off the rails and leading to a Grand Meddle and Hosannas to Saint Mary. I’d love to see someone as unrepentant as Nola (who just likes sex and power) get the best of Mary. I’d even be happy if Mary manages to get Nola and Charley Smith (similarly unrepentant and with the only character flaw being a fan of Rogers & Hammerstein musicals).
I can imagine Mary rationalizing that match based on “Well, at least they’re not making other people miserable.”, right up to the point when Nola and Charley begin swinging with other Charterstone couples (Delilah and Lawrence, Toby and Ian, Wilbur and Dawn, Ernie and Bonnie).
Perhaps she’ll even come to regret the events that led to the demise of Aldo — thinking that without a condo-partner, she’ll never be considered one of the “in crowd.”
Yeah, you want to see this. Admit it.
Sure, it’s more talking heads around the Dining Table of Doom, but maybe Mary’s weakening. I hope so!
I think we’ve moved into the living room for some after-dinner booze, but the topic’s the same (after all, this is why Mary invited Nola over in the first place…you don’t think Mary would’ve considered inviting a woman who looks like nothing more than a cheap floozy over in the first place, did you?).
Speaking of cheap floozies…
Again, more than two months have elapsed since I’ve mashed Judge Parker. Oooh, some foreign guy shot. Oooh, Randy’s girlfriend implicated. Ooooh, no action, all words. Ooooh, boring!
But suddenly, Sam and Randy are joined by a mystery woman in a burka. No, just a headscarf matched with a fashionable low-cut, form-fitting dress. Good or evil? You decide!
Meanwhile, I’ve already made my decision:
So, anyway, Margo is visiting a friend (or what passes for a friend of Margo’s), Nina, presenting her a box of chocolates, complimenting her on her new hairdo, exchanging compliments (I have no idea who Nina is, maybe some dead guy’s wife, considering this is Apartment 3-G). During the course of the chat, Nina points out to Margo, who is evidently blind but is bravely soldiering on without a white cane or a seeing-eye wolverine, that she’s pregnant. Something like 11 months pregnant.
Faithful commenter pugfuggly, over at the Comics Curmudgeon, commented:
Given the compete lack of legs in A3G, I’ve often wondered if the finale of this strip is going to reveal that it was actually one big puppet show the whole time, and that the entire lives of these three women are just the product of the imagination of some autistic child with a chest full of dowdy marottes.
Interesting as that might be, I just focused on “puppet show”:
Personally, I think a puppet show featuring Margo and Sphixter would be pretty awesome.
Or, maybe just having Margo do what she does so well would be enough…
(You will be so good as to note that Nina’s words in Panel 1 are verbatim. Heck, no one could resist that!)
And it’s home again, home again…with Lu Ann still in the wilds of West Dakota.
And we’ve moved back to deep philosophical discussions (read, boring talking heads) at the apartment. I’ll have to fix that…
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