All Things Chicken

I don't think Frank Marcello likes chickens.

Either that, or he loves them but applies the writing axiom that you have to let bad things happen to your favorite characters.

Just look at this series, apparently featuring Hanna Bell Lecter:

She chased him down, held him up like a victory bouquet, and then proceeded to get him drunk, meanwhile planning a coq au vin with some nice fava beans on the side.

And here he is at the last, bald scalp now covered by a hat, comb set aside for a garnish.

Bubbling away as if all is well, when clearly, that inner tube is not going to save him.

Poor chicken.

I wonder if Frank was a vegetarian, trying to make a point?