Rosemary Well’s book Yoko is about the titular little girl/cat who struggles to find acceptance of her family’s Japanese background among her animal classmates. She’s made fun of for eating sushi and red bean ice cream. Eventually, though, she finds an ally in Timothy, a hungry weasel who finds he has a taste for crab rolls. Together, they start a lunch club where they share their food, and ignore the kids who yuck their yum. It’s an excellent example of center-left multiculturalism, where expressions of bigotry are mostly ridiculous and harmless, and could be overcome and extinguished through easy lessons like “your exotic foods are actually delicious!”
Then there are the Franks. Frank and Frank are two Boston terrier brothers in Yoko’s class, and they are gigantic shitheads.
They are the least accepting of Yoko’s food tastes and background. They are cruel. They are incurious and stupid. They are slobs. They literally only eat Boston beans for lunch. I mean, look at this shit.
Why are they like this? Their dumbass dad, Big Frank. That’s right: Big Frank named both of his sons Frank. His character reveal is a masterwork of brevity. It contains all of Big Franks shittiness in a single illustration and one sentence. Yoko’s teacher decides to have an International Day where each family picks a different culture and brings in food to share. What does Big Frank bring?
The same shit they always eat, delivered in a Boston Bruins beanpot (I guess? What is going on with that logo? Was that an attempt to skirt trademark laws?). “Here, experience my culture, [slur]” is a reasonable guess as to what Big Frank said when he plopped down his contribution.
Yoko isn’t’t explicit about whether the class learned how to be tolerant apart from Timothy, but it doesn’t leave much to guess about whether the Franks were going to change. Their fate is their namesake’s: a big ol’ shitty imbecile proudly being a dick forever. Boston Strong!