The wrath of ’Czak
Apartment 3-G, 11/26/08
I know that this is going to come as something of a shock, but it turns out that Margo is a terrible art gallery manager, who put all her energy into insulting, belittling, and sneering at the help when she should have been micromanaging them, or at least requesting occasional progress updates. This failure is all the more hilarious because she essentially abandoned her event organizing business to run the Mills Gallery, leaving open the question of what exactly she’s been doing all day (my guess: rifling through Eric’s papers for evidence of infidelity). So now we can add “incompetent gallery impresario” to her list of resume bullet points, along with “incompetent party planner,” “incompetent publicist,” and “incompetent entry-level garment industry employee.”
This show still might not be a total disaster, though: her boss is missing or dead, her curator is dead, her artist left town in a haze of grief, and probably nobody was going to come to the exhibition anyway. She and Doris ought to just slap all that crap that’s in the storage room up on the wall (not worrying about whether it’s right-side up or even whether it’s art), send out a press release to Time Out New York touting “a bold new exhibition that questions the very notion that art can be ‘curated,'” and then start drinking.
Gil Thorp, 11/26/08
I’m pretty sure that it was Marty’s skeptical bosses who suggested this new shock-journalism tactic: bringing the hulking and emotionally unstable Jeff Ponczak onto the show and then insulting his mother. The thinking no doubt is that the ’Czak would either keel over from a rage-induced heart attack or (as the clenched fist in panel three suggests) punch Marty in the face; either event on camera would obviously be ratings gold.
Mark Trail, 11/26/08
“Say, why don’t we just set that old gator loose at that investors meeting? That’s likely to solve all of our problems, sure enough!”
Hey everybody! As is my wont, I’ll be taking off for Thanksgiving — comics return Sunday, or Monday, or something. Enjoy your Thanksgiving, if you live in the US and/or celebrate Thanksgiving; the rest of you, enjoy your next four days of Comics Curmudgeon-less hell.