Irony bleeds between Vladek’s narration, in both pages, the way blood bleeds down a hockey player’s face after a gruesome fight. It is too evident in these pages and it mainly pertains to how oblivious Vladek and his friend are to what is about to happen to them, and how they are about to spend the next few years of their lives. While lying in bed, in the first page, his friend describes how nice it is to feel warmth in a comfortable bed again. He says this as if this type of luxury is going to continue, meanwhile he has no clue that in about a month, he is going to be sleeping on a stack of hay with nothing to keep him warm other than the body heat from the several others dying around him.
Vladek also states in one of the frames how anything beats rotting in those tents that they had to spend long, cold nights in prior to being in this cabin. Irony exists once again, but all the way to the second page, where Vladek probably wishes that he could be back in that tent. Being cold, diseased, and living in a musty concentration camp is no way to live.
Irony also exists in the last panel of the first page. Vladek narrates that the Nazi’s put them to work with shovels, ‘something they have never worked with before’…fast forward to the time period Vladek is in during the second page, give or take a few months before and after, there is no doubt that he would do anything to simply have that chore again. From what he’s had to do in his weak condition, from carrying cans of soup, to learning how to fix army boots within a day, his first day using a shovel seems pretty pleasant. However, he made it seem like hell in the first page.