THE GREY LADY AND THE STRAWBERRY SNATCHER

At a faux-woodgrain fruitstand rifled with lushly painted fruit, an old woman buys strawberries. Here and throughout, only her gnomelike face and her hands are painted like the rest of the picture; her flat gray form matches and bleeds into the background. This allows for some tricky hide-and-seek later, when the Gray Lady is being pursued by the Snatcher—an electric blue creature clad in luminescent green cape and purple slouch hat, who seems a kiddie-cartoon version of a psychedelic-album-cover grotesque. Lurking now outside the fruitstand, the Snatcher trails the Lady past showcased pastry and other window displays. He reaches out but misses, as snakes from a passing Indian woman's basket form a surrealistic barrier between him and the poster-basic bus the Lady is boarding. Riding the Indian woman's skateboard, the Snatcher reappears at the end of the bus line, and the terror mounts. The Gray Lady flees from him through a thicket of reaching, Rackhamesque trees, and leads him into deeper, pretty greenery . . . where he stops, turns, plunges into a sunlit, lacy blackberry glade, and feasts blissfully on the berries. Thus saved, the Gray Lady shows up in her patterned, textured parlor and distributes strawberries to a family of six—which includes another gnomelike woman, outlandishly dressed in striped leg warmers. The jacket flap calls this wordless string of gratuitous effects an allegory, which we will accept as part of the joke.