Even Leroy Lockhorn, the most interesting man in the world, needs to update his repertoire once in a while. Loretta gladly reminds him of this as they're off to yet another Levittown cocktail party. He may have to rely tonight on his old tried-and-true standard, and that is speaking out against the institution of matrimony. As an afterthought, you would think Leroy has thousands of hospital stories, given his medical history.
Loretta has served Leroy his dinner. It is an abomination, as is anything Loretta has ever cooked. This time we have a steak, burnt beyond recognition, of the consistency of shoe leather, and emitting acrid fumes throughout the dining room. This wouldn't be the first time Leroy has recited a requiem in memory of whatever the culinary atrocity on his plate used to be.
Leroy wasn't around today, so Loretta couldn't insult him in front of an audience (comprising the sole bored looking neighbor) as usual. She resorts to insulting him when he's not even there, but it's not the same. Who prints pictures made from cell phones, anyway?
I'm guessing that Leroy has asked Dr. H. Blog M.D. for a second opinion after the doctor informed him he was overweight, hence the doctor's comment. I say guessing because I don't know what actually happened, since the doctor's response does not seem to fit at all as a retort to "I want a second opinion." The confusion and awkwardness is enhanced further by Loretta's giggling at Leroy's misfortune, especially since, as I have pointed out several times lately, their bodies have exactly the same shape.
A woman neighbor visits Loretta. She sits on the couch, transfixed with a stare of boredom, as though she would rather be anywhere else on the planet, as Loretta insults her napping husband with yet another play on words. I wonder why this scene seems so familiar?
Leroy recalls yesterday's episode at Jones Beach when it was revealed he has the body of a frog, so it stands to reason he wouldn't want to look at Loretta's body if he can help it, since their body types are, to all appearances, identical.
Panel One, upper left Love means never having to say, "Love means never having to say, "Love means never having to say, . . . and so forth. This is an infinite loop, reminiscent of the trap one falls in when one relies on cliches too often. Nonetheless, Leroy deserves credit for disguising his wisdom as a proud proclamation of his cheapness.
It's the rare evening where the Lockhorns dine out in style, which means at an establishment that is not a fast food joint. Loretta voices her opinion on the matter in her trademark sarcastic manner when the waiter presents her with the ketchup. Touche. As the evening wears on, the waiter will likely have some good stories to pass on to his coworkers for when business is slow.
It figures that Loretta, when caught off guard, is bedecked in the most cliched getup imaginable for the American housewife: bathrobe, hair curlers, fuzzy slippers, but I have to ask, where's the mudpack? Leroy's expression clearly indicates that the timing of his invitation to the neighbors was purely intentional. When has he ever invited neighbors over, anyway? The male guest and Leroy exchange knowing glances. I figure the couple have been contemplating marriage, and Leroy set the guy straight in a most striking way.
After the extremely rare occasion when Leroy buys Loretta a ring, what does she do but bring it right to the jewelers to get it appraised! You can't blame her for her curiosity, as Leroy's cheapness is legendary. Who knows where he got that thing? Why, its stone consists of a mineral unknown to science! Or, it could be the jeweler flunked chemistry in high school.
Today's scene is familiar. Leroy is napping in his favorite armchair. Loretta receives a visitor. Loretta wastes no time in parading her visitor by the reposing Leroy, for the express purpose of insulting Leroy in front of an audience. The neighbors always seem bored or annoyed by such performances, but you have to wonder why they keep visiting the Lockhorns with such consistent frequency. Maybe it's like watching cable TV. You know it's nothing but crap, and yet, you keep going back for more.
At first glance, Loretta's extravagantly arrogant pose takes center stage, as she gloats in triumph in her trademark affected manner, having officially conferred upon her husband the status of public butt of complaints. A closer inspection, however, reveals that it is Leroy who steals the show with his excellent deadpan reaction.
Even though Scrabble is a word game, Loretta's comment just doesn't make sense. If you're at all familiar with the game, I'm sure you'll agree. Loretta probably has hundreds of tired old idioms and cliches, all involving the noun "word," in mind for recital during tonight's game. A word to the wise.
In Panel One, upper left, Leroy inexplicably leaves himself wide open by tossing out an idiom which Loretta, naturally enough, chews up and spits out right back in his face.
Leroy, yet again, is embroiled in a ferocious argument with one of his neighbors. His irascibility toward his neighbors is legendary. Many of these heated discussions turn to fisticuffs, and it seems like Leroy's interlocutor is deciding between clenching his fist in anticipation of such, or flipping Leroy the bird. Loretta, of course, is there to provide commentary to whomever she can get to listen. She seems to be implying that Leroy brightens up a room by leaving it.
Today's Lockhorns panel employs two elements crucial to its astounding success over the years. One element is, of course, Leroy's carping about Loretta's atrocious cooking. The other element is the time-honored Lockhorns tradition of wordplay on some tired old idiom, in this case "cold comfort," which predates Shakespearean times. The wordplay depends on the idiotic phrase "comfort food," but it is severely hampered here because the modifier "cold" could be misconstrued as pertaining to the temperature of the culinary monstrosity Loretta has served up, instead of the horrifying quality of its essence, as was surely intended. In an attempt to prod the reader in the right direction, the cartoonists depicted the meal in question to resemble exactly, within the context of the delightfully minimalist style in which the comic is drawn, a pile of shit.
Leroy reposes in his favorite armchair, probably exhausted from the latest round of bickering with Loretta. I say this because Loretta doesn't look all too chipper herself. Nonetheless, she staunchly performs her duty by complaining about her husband to her neighbor.
Leroy carries on the Lockhorns tradition of insulting one's spouse by wordplay on a tired old idiom. An irate Loretta no doubt will get her chance to return serve, as these two longtime adversaries are evenly matched in this clever skill. Naturally, today's performance is greeted with a look of excruciating boredom from the receptionist of one Willis Green, DDS, who may or may not soon be incorporated into the Lockhorns pantheon of ancillary characters, alongside the likes of D. Pullman and H. Blog.
D. Pullman, Marriage Counselor, as usual has his hands full. Leroy and Loretta have become embroiled in yet another argument. They both fume with anger as Pullman, once again, is completely at a loss as to what to do. The argument centers on Leroy's hilarious choice for the couple's "song," a choice which, at least from his perspective, is spot on. Why, it's bad enough just forking over $175 an hour just to hear Loretta complain nonstop to this ineffectual putz of a marriage counselor.
Loretta, as usual, is angry at Leroy. Her response is to give him the cold shoulder while leaving snide little reminders around the house to indicate her ire. The best way to get under Leroy's skin is to remind him of the very words he no doubt most deeply regrets ever having uttered, and she knows it.
