This particular volume of Nugget is the longest one yet, with the longest stories yet: 64 pages and only two stories. Should I be irrationally annoyed that he didn’t call it “giant-sized Nugget”? No, I should not. Am I? Maybe a little bit. He seems to be drifting more into body horror this time around, or possibly I’m just noticing it for the first time. First up is a story about Nugget and a friend, seemingly lost at sea. They’re amusing themselves by making faces to each other and generally being friendly, which matters a lot for what comes later. They reach land and the friend makes a discovery: a strange orb that’s making noises that compels them both to lick it in return for visions. And boy howdy, can Tony ever draw some visions. I’ve compared this to Jim Woodring’s work before, and see no reason to stop doing that now. The orb quickly becomes a point of contention for both of them, which leads to some fairly brutal physical violence, in which the orb gets cracked. And if you’re thinking it might have been an egg, you were certainly on the right track with that guess. I’ll say no more about specifics, but it’s a grim tale of friendship and broken trust; that last page is going to stick with me for awhile. The other story is about Nugget, alone again, as he meets a sea nymph while he’s working on a giant head in his yard. Just roll with it! He falls for her immediately and takes her on a tour of the woods, where they stumble across a seriously violent act, and she decides that she wants more of that type of thing in her life. Nugget is heartbroken, but it turns out that there’s another sea nymph wandering around. Do we get to see what passes for sex in this world? I don’t want to say for sure, but I think so? You tell me. This is all entirely wordless, which I must have mentioned in past reviews but haven’t here, and it’s no less devastating for it. It’s the best issue yet, which has been true of all of them, which is a hell of an artistic trajectory. $14
