Til Death do us Part
Cathy has finally tied the knot with Irving. We can all breathe a little easier, sleep a little better knowing that this star crossed duo has made the ultimate commitment to each other. At long last, love.
I've mentioned before that Cathy is one bad day away from starring in a comic strip adaptation of Natural Born Killers (my whole idea there was that Cathy and Beetle Bailey would go on a cross country murder spree - Cathy exacting revenge on the world for all her weight gain, bad financial decisions and relationship disasters, and Beetle treating everyone he comes in contact with as a surrogate Sarge, his mental and physical tormenter for life).
So I don't have much hope for this marriage. Oh, they will live happily ever after in the comic strip, I'm sure. Because the author of the strip doesn't like to face reality. If she would just be honest with us once in a while and insert a little reality into Cathy's daily adventures, maybe - just maybe - there wouldn't be hordes of people out there calling for the death and destruction of this strip.
If Cathy were more life like, we'd all be taking bets on how long this sham of a marriage will last. I'd give it two months before Irving stabs her to death with a fork. A bent, dirty fork. Because here's how it would really play out:
Cathy, finally feeling like she bagged the big prize, throws all pretense of being thin out the door. It's not like she's trying to impress anyone anymore - she got what she was after. So she goes on an eating binge, gaining about 75 lbs in two weeks. She takes a leave of absence from her job because she's gotten into the habit of sitting on the couch all day long, eating donuts and watching Jerry Springer. She doesn't cook. She doesn't clean. The only time she goes out of the house is to head to the plus size store, where she purchases housecoats by the dozen, and then to Target, where she goes on wild spending sprees that are nothing more than a manifestation of her realization that she married a short, bald, boring man and nothing will ever seem new for her again. Her mother visits often but only stays long enough to chide her for not being pregnant yet. Too bad Cathy hasn't put out for Irving since the wedding night. Sure, she'll offer him a hand job once in a while, but that's only when she wants Irv to drive to Krispy Kreme for her. And a hand job isn't going to get you babies, so Cathy is doomed to be a disappointment to her mother, who obviously likes Irving better than her own daughter, anyhow. And who could blame her? Cathy is a whiny, bitchy, ungrateful brat who's never satisfied with anything. Eventually, Irving forces her to see a doctor, who prescribes an anti-depressant and some diet pills. Cathy suddenly becomes focused. She loses weight, goes back to work and starts fucking the copy repair guy. Meanwhile, Irving has been relegated to henpecked husband status, and exists only to put a paycheck in the bank so Cathy can buy more shoes, more dresses, more lingerie she wears while straddling her lover. Irving has enough and stalks Cathy and her lover, which scares the copy guy away. Cathy goes ballistic and, in a culmination of every single disappointment she has suffered in her life, beats the living shit out of Irving. In a last breath attempt to die with some dignity, Irving grabs a fork off the kitchen table and stabs Cathy in the head. Several times. They both lay dead on the kitchen floor for days, until Cathy's mother finds them there. Before calling the police, she kicks her daughter's dead body and curses the fact that she will never, ever know the joy of being a grandmother.
Other scenarios are possible. Any way you look at it, this marriage is doomed and Cathy Guisewaite is the only one who doesn't know it.