We Need to Talk About Major Glory's Special Once-A-Month-Only All-American Buffet Breakfast Bonanza
He only makes it once a month, y’all
Did you ever watch “Dexter’s Laboratory” when you were growing up? It was a show on Cartoon Network about a boy named Dexter (the smartest boy you’ve ever seen) and his sister Dee-Dee (who more often than not blows his experiments to smithereens), along with a cast of colorful side characters who would occasionally appear in backup segments that had little or nothing to do with Dexter himself.
It was common for cartoons of the time to come packaged with these ancillary featurettes, some of which took the form of a kind of “show within a show”, to keep the cartoon feeling fresh, and to allow the show’s writers and artists the occasional room to flex their creative muscles. “Dexter” had a few features like this, but the one that undoubtedly loomed largest would have to be the Justice Friends.
There are lots of story beats and concepts in “Dexter” that I’ve long suspected were there because what creator Genndy Tartakovsky truly wanted, in his heart of hearts, was to make an action cartoon. “Dexter” was a comedy show with action elements- it would be years before we got “Samurai Jack”, the action show with comedy elements that he seemed to want so badly. The “Justice Friends” shorts were a suitable half-measure in the meantime, though.
Featuring expies of famous comic book superheroes, the premise of “The Justice Friends” was to take the mightiest heroes on Earth and join them together under one roof for the greatest battle of their time- the challenge of everyday life as roommates sharing a lease. With a small three-bedroom apartment as the setting and sitcom-style canned laughter accompanying every joke, the shorts were largely a vehicle for lighthearted jabs at Marvel and DC, featuring plots that would typically center around mundane roommate situations writ large- Major Glory’s Uncle Sam (yes, THE Uncle Sam) is coming to visit! Krunk has a toothache! Valhallen’s room is a mess! All three of them want to watch something different at the same time, but there’s only one TV set!
Everyday life is, indeed, a challenge, when viewed through the lens of overwrought comic book melodrama- and naturally, the results of this odd pairing are hilarious. One of my favorite examples of this is the aforementioned “Valhallen’s Room”, a short that features the spectacularly excessive and strange breakfast for which this essay is named.
The short begins with Major Glory calling his roommates into the kitchen for breakfast... But when they fail to appear in a timely enough fashion to satisfy his ego, he quickly devolves into the kind of shrieking histrionics that anyone who’s ever had an overly dramatic roommate will instantly recognize.
Self-pitying whining about how his hard work goes unappreciated? Check. Over-the-top, dramatic declarations that he’ll “never do [insert roommate task here] EVER AGAIN”? Check. Acting high-handed and superior over something he frames as a favor to his ungracious roommates (unasked for, mind you), but is transparently some kind of weird power move? Check. Yep, Major Glory is pretty much every control-freak roommate we all had for a short time in our twenties- or maybe we still deal with them now. Condolences, if that’s the case.
At any rate, it’s Valhallen’s failure to show up for breakfast that kicks off the short’s plot, with the Major and the Infraggable One having to venture into Valhallen’s room to see what’s amiss before the highly anticipated, once-monthly Breakfast of the Gods goes cold. But that adventure into the quasi-Asgardian realm that is the Viking God of Rock’s bedroom, thrilling though it may be, is not the focus of today’s essay. Instead, we’re going to talk about the meal itself- the breakfast that Major Glory slaved over, and put so much hard work into that he went full Karen over the prospect of it not being enjoyed piping hot the moment it was ready to eat.
That’s right- we’re going to discuss the ONCE-A-MONTH-ONLY ALL-AMERICAN BUFFET BREAKFAST BONANZA. Does it deserve such an ostentatious title? Is it truly enough of a bonanza to merit such strict adherence to the timekeeping habits of an anal-retentive super person? Is any breakfast on this planet worth getting up that early for?
Let’s get into it.
FIG. 1: BACON & EGGS, OLD GLORY STYLE
We’re starting off strong with an American breakfast standard: bacon and eggs. No muss, no fuss, no frills, no thrills. As breakfast fare goes, plain sunny-side-up eggs and bacon strips are endlessly customizable in tons of different interesting ways, but at the end of the day, they’re kind of difficult to get completely wrong- the only thing that really ruins them is letting them burn, and Major Glory clearly has his cook times on lock.
The only doubt I could cast on this part of the meal is that four eggs and five bacon strips surely is not enough of either dish for three hungry superheroes starting their day- hell, Krunk alone probably burns more calories than that just getting out of bed. Have you seen the body on that guy? This is a light snack, at BEST. This is NOTHING to him.
Does that look like the physique of someone who will be satisfied by four eggs and five bacon strips? Four eggs and five bacon strips meant to be shared three ways between his slightly less (but still impressively) buff super-roomies, mind you.
One imagines that Major Glory’s commitment to staying on-theme may have gotten in the way of practicality here- but if you’re trying to recreate the American flag with bacon and eggs, why half-ass it? Go all the way, man! Quail eggs instead of chicken eggs, so you can actually have all 50 stars! Shaped egg white stripes to match the red bacon stripes, and to bring the count to a full 13! Come on, Major, remember your flag code! You’ve got superpowers, fly to Whole Foods and really do this right!
But it’s worth remembering that this is not only a breakfast bonanza- it’s also a buffet, implying there’s plenty more fare to be had. Given what’s to come, maybe the Major decided that the quality of the presentation would outweigh the quantity of the food itself being a little underwhelming. A bold play for certain. Let’s press on and see how that theory plays out.
FIG. 2: PATRIOTIC PANCAKES (AKA THE AMBER WAVES OF GRAIN)
The Major makes a big fuss about how much time went into this meal, and I’d wager most of that time was spent constructing this tower of breakfast power. Clearly intended to be the centerpiece of the meal, there are 13 pancakes here, likely representing the 13 original colonies. Topped with fun-shaped sprinkles, fresh fruit (blueberries and strawberries- classic pairing, though I’d have gone with banana slices), a festive star-shaped butter pat, a generous pouring of syrup (Log Cabin brand, we must assume Major Glory doesn’t buy Canadian maple), and even miniature American flags! I said Major Glory was being dramatic before, but looking at this, I kind of get why he was upset.
There’s a bit of artistry to getting pancakes just right, and it can be a real challenge to make a large quantity of them while maintaining uniform quality and flavor. That he achieved this while also preparing the rest of the meal and managed to get it all on the table at the same time truly is a feat of culinary superheroism.
Of course, from a health standpoint, it’s a bit of a mess. Pancakes are one of those meals I think of as being quintessentially American; a nutritious breakfast is foundational to building good habits and establishing a healthy lifestyle overall, so naturally, one of our culture’s most popular breakfast entrees is cake. Nothing like starting your day off with 3000 calories of carbohydrates and high fructose corn syrup at 8AM to ensure you’ll be slipping into a sugar-crash induced nap at your desk by 10! Those morning meetings always put you to sleep anyway- could’ve been an email!
That said, these are three super people we’re dealing with, one of whom is a Viking god, and the other two of whom are only dubiously human. It’s entirely possible that whatever arcane biological processes allow them to battle evil every day will also allow them to tackle this cardiovascular feast of doom every morning- or at least the one morning a month that Major Glory decides to make it.
With those points in mind, my final word on this centerpiece? 10/10. Chef’s kiss. No notes!
FIG. 3: THE GREAT AMERICAN MELTING POT
I’m not even sure where to start with this. This meal has taken a hard turn out of the comfort of Americana staples and well into experimentation. It’s entirely possible that this is the real reason Major Glory was so defensive about this breakfast- the bacon, eggs and pancakes are fine, but it’s harder to be confident about… Whatever all of this is.
First off, it took me a full ten minutes to realize those brown things were supposed to be little recreations of the Liberty Bell. I respect the artistry of it- once you realize what they’re supposed to be, you see that it’s clever and even a little impressive that he took this route… But if it has to be pointed out to you what they’re supposed to be, that’s a pretty clear indicator that something went wrong in the kitchen.
For that matter, I’m still not 100% sure what they actually are. Some kind of pastry, maybe? An overly-ambitious attempt at muffins? Smashed potatoes, meticulously sculpted into bell shapes? I gotta be real with you, I have no damn idea. All I can be certain of is that I really don’t want one. If I’m gonna have carbs (ARE they carbs????), I'll just have more pancakes.
Next, we have the three-layer mushroom omelet. One thing that immediately jumps out at me about this is the TRULY heroic amount of cheese; a bit of cheese can elevate any egg dish, especially if the type and quantity of cheese is chosen with care, but this thing is absolutely swimming in what I have to assume is basic cheddar… Or, shockingly, might we assume the Major would go for Kraft American Singles? The possibility can’t be dismissed out of hand- the melt pattern is rather damning. Kraft American Singles are really only cheese in the academic sense, but they do melt spectacularly well.
And then there’s the sheer size of the thing. This omelet is almost cake-like in its construction, requiring its own Thanksgiving-sized serving tray and no less than three fondue forks. Be so real with us right now, Major- this is where the rest of the eggs went, isn’t it? The reason there’s only four sunny-side up eggs at this breakfast is that every other egg in the house was sacrificed at the altar of this bubbling mass of cheddar, poultry, and god only knows how much butter. The addition of a few sprigs of parsley does not hold back the tide- an anemic effort from ineffectual greens. Your cholesterol will rise just by being in the same room with this. Your heart valves are panting and wheezing and preparing to give up the ghost as we speak.
On the plus side, it might be just enough protein for Krunk to kick-start his day. Maybe that was the plan all along. Who knows what mysteries lurk in the mind of a superhero who gets up at dawn to cook breakfast?
FIG. 4: TABLEWARE FROM THE BETSY ROSS COLLECTION
I would be remiss if I didn’t throw some special attention on the table setting here. The red-and-white checked tablecloth is classic “summer picnic” Americana, and the addition of themed tableware takes it straight over the finish line.
A star-spangled pitcher of orange juice, served up with matching glasses, along with an American flag kettle for coffee (or perhaps tea, patriotically purloined from the British and maybe brought up to American standards with tons of full-fat milk and granulated sugar), tastefully arranged alongside a stack of American flag napkins… Marvelous! The theming here really is to be admired. We can perhaps assume that this glassware only sees use on special occasions, like the once-a-month special breakfast, or the American Idol season finale.
Although, it’s worth noting that those paper napkins are probably another flag code violation. Once again, Major Glory has focused so much on maintaining a cohesive vision that he’s missed the forest for the trees. Does he realize the implications here? Does he expect his roomies to wipe their mouths with Old Glory itself? Is it possible that buried within this passive-aggressive act of culinary domesticity, there is a seed of rebellion? A bucking of cultural norms, a rejection of traditional gender roles- a challenge to the American primacy of yesteryear? Provocative if true! Subversive, even!
So what’s the final verdict? Taken as a whole, you couldn’t really call it a balanced breakfast, but maybe that’s the brilliance of it. The modern American is not overly concerned with questions of whether their morning meal is nutritionally sound- much more pressing is the question of how much of a treat it is. The promise of treats is the prime mover of the 21st century consumer, who must have sufficient material motivation to get out of bed and face the soul-draining nightmare cornucopia that is working for a living. It stands to reason that Major Glory, as the living embodiment of our nation’s enduring spirit, would be obliged to deliver us from Cream of Wheat and Special K, into the Promised Land of sugar-grease-salt.
At the very least, Valhallen seems satisfied with it. As the short draws to a close and the reunited roomies finally settle in to eat, the freshly rescued Viking God of Rock tucks into his share of the breakfast bonanza with all the manners and respect that such a carefully prepared meal deserves:
Yeah, you know, now that I think about it, if I’d spent all morning making pancakes for my roommate and he proceeded to eat them by spearing an entire stack with the tip of his mystical Mjolnir-esque Gibson Flying V, I might be a little annoyed. Maybe Major Glory was right about this one, having weird roommates really is a special kind of hell.
Such are the challenges of everyday life at the Muscular Arms apartment complex, I suppose.
