Face On My Egg
This almost – almost – needs no further commentary, except: a) the “laugh now, cry later” drama masks that the eggs have been made into. Clearly, each egg has his or her own reaction to having a gherkin shoved up it’s neck, and what better way to show egg-emotion than a pimiento for a mouth. B)Serve cold with hot tomato juice will now be my go-to vision whenever I’m bent over the toilet bowl and the vomit wants to but just isn’t coming. That’ll do it. And c) it doesn’t say “Serves 12” or “Makes 12 eggs,” no, it says “12 Faces” as the recipe output. And if that wasn’t enough, they are “funny monkey faces.” Imagine if you will….
“I made us some face-eggs, look at these funny little monkeys!” said Betty Draper to her husband Don, as he and Roger Sterling smiled stiffly at the Heineken beer reps, seated at the dining table.
“Betty, can I see you in the kitchen?” Don asked.
“Sure, but not before I put out the gouda for our gues-”
“NOW,” Don said.
“What is it, Don? Did Fat Sally eat one of the eggs?” Betty asked.
“No, but I’m just wondering when it is you decided to make monkey egg faces for our international guests. Have you always been this stupid, or have I just never noticed it because I’ve spent so long hiding my own identity?”
“But Don! Funny monkeys!”
“Betty don’t try to change the–hey, wait, you kept saying monkey and I just thought it looked like your dad, Gene, who I really dislike, but it does in fact look like a monkey. And he’s smiling! That’s pretty funny Bets. Let’s go win us a beer account.”
It was a simpler time back then.