Before we try to decipher whether the DING DONG! is in reference to Casa Thorp’s doorbell or Coach Thorp’s approach to relationships, major kudos (which are coming fewer and farther between) to Barajas for today’s figure of speech.
Unlike Bad Bunny, Bunny Brief is not a Puerto Rican music star. Neither is he the mascot of an ice cream brand with roots in Iowa. Anthony John Greszkowski was a child of German Polish immigrants who, growing up in Traverse City, Michigan, got the attention of pro baseball scouts. Bunny was a corruption of his childhood nickname, “Bunty,” but it’s unclear how he came to adopt the surname of Brief. Some stories claim that sportswriters bestowed it on him when they couldn’t spell Greszkowski or fit it into box scores. A first baseman/outfielder with power, Brief had cups of coffee with the Browns, White Sox and Pirates before and during World War I. He never could stick at the major league level but played well into the 1920s at effectively the AAA level, becoming kind of an early Babe Ruth of the minors. He still holds the record for home runs in the American Association. A fun player name with the kind of Michigan-based backstory worthy of the Rubin Era. Well played, Henry, well played.
What’s not well played? Bringing your first post-divorce hookup back home to meet the kids and getting all dressed up for it. The entire setup for Beth the bartender has been as this sort of torch carrier who might tempt Gil but never sway him. As we’ve learned, however, Luke was right, Marty was wrong, and Beth’s was the first hangar Gil flew off to park in after the ink had dried. That Gil is so eager to fly her back to Milford so soon says more about how his character – or at least how Barajas has chosen to portray his character – than it does about any of the others in the strip.
Gil has never really been one to fall and love with and marry his childhood sweetheart, like some kind of cartoon Canadian. There was Holly Dobbs, remember? Feels like Gil’s being retconned into either a toital naif or someone totally led around by L’il Gil. Maybe he should’ve been paying closer attention BITD when Mimi Clover told him she’d rather go see The Children’s Hour instead of West Side Story.
Interesting. The other day, Coach Commie was Mr. Roger’s wife and as gentle as a lamb, right on up until Dorothy Wolfe laid an egg. Even Coach Commie’s reaction when Dotty Dubbs dejectedly headed back to the dugout with the game lost for the ages didn’t make me, and I daresay the readership in general, feel that it presaged her becoming Full Metal Jacket today. Yeah
”THE DAYS OF WATCHING MIMI AND ERICKA TONGUE EACH OTHER ARE OVER!!!!!!!! YOU HEART BELONGS TO GOD BUT YOUR ASS BELONGS TO ME!!!!!!!!”
The only thing missing from this sudden change of direction is Leonard Lawrence.
”Private Lawrence!!!!!!!! Why are you batting left-handed when you’re right-handed????”
”I DON’T KNOW, COACH COMMIE!!!!!!!!!”
”Drop and give me 100 until you’re absolutely sure, you slimy worm!!!!!!!”
And okay, DD choked in the clutch and bawled her eyes out and so Coach Commie is going to make’ em pay. Well and good. As long it doesn’t spiral to
”WHERE YOU FROM, GIRL!!!!!!!”
”Milford, Coach Commie!!!”
”MILFORD???? THE ONLY THING THAT EVER COMES OUT OF MILFORD IS STEERS AND QUEERS!!!!!!!!! I DON’T SEE ANY HORNS COMIN’ OUTTA YO’ HEAD SO YOU MUST BE A QUEER!!!!!!!! AND DON’T YOU EYEBALL ME, DOTTY DUBBS!!!!!!!!”
This is going to be a long season, if and when we don’t commit any more silly continuity errors.
Today’s Headline in the Milford Enquirer
“Gunnery Sergeant Highway To Assist Coach Commie With Milford Softball Team!!!!!!!!!”
sub headline
”They’ll learn to overcome and adapt. We’re switching their ham and egg breakfast with fried crab eyeballs and toast. And they’re getting up at 0300 hours to do it.”
REX ALERT!!!!!!!! REX ALERT!!!!!!!!!!
The saga of Lassie the Dog OD’ing on Duncan Hines continues with a strong sense of purpose. I don’t know how much more of this Brownie Bagging & Barfing I can take. I’d rather watch Truck Tyler in one more ambitious stab at pumping Wanda or there at least be a standoff with The Arizona Kid because he wants to use Wanda to see if his 178-year-old body can stand the stress when indulging in Edenic delights to the Best Meat Loaf Entree Waitress this side of the Arkansas River.
But if we must soldier on to see if Candy the Dog will survive the Liposuction Apparatus that is normally reserved for usage when Mabel Ruth Pearl drops in for her monthly withdrawal of 384 pounds because she ate three boxes of Betty Crocker Vanilla Fudge without any dessert, not just the brownie pan (side order with the onion rings for her) , then let us not delay the procedure any further. I never knew the Milford Liposuction Academy utilized their machines as an emetic but that’s why their staff is the ones that attend seminars and fellowships every year. I humbly sit in the waiting room and hope to Heaven that Johnny and Sarah don’t pass any gas. There’s no open windows for the stench or brownie breath residue to escape.
Now I know many of you will be nauseated that Candy will be compelled to play the role of Barfy, literally. I realize that this unpleasant process will cause major trauma when Candy belches and retches the Sara Lee Cheesecake out of her system but if we don’t want to return to see if Wilma has left for Thailand because Fred can’t keep his appetite for Sara Lee German Chocolate or generic sex in his pocket, it’s best we grin and bear it. C’mon now, suck it in. It’s not like we haven’t watched Lassie poop out on the lawn before.
I heard Ericka sent Mimi to the Academy to get her pumped for excessive Pickle & Pimento Loaf sandwiches. Evidently, Amelia stocked too many on the shelf and was forced to have a clearance sale on them. Now Mimi will have to have her derrière liposuctioned because of Amelia’s loss leaders. And the clinical staff made no guarantees. Sometimes the vacuum acts funny when it’s chugging pimento bits out of the hoses.
If yore drill sergeant makes ya do 1,000 pushups in a wetlands area ta toughen ya up against the skeeters, ya might be a redneck.
”…don’t go away until I break all the myths about losing weight. Contrary to popular opinion, eating Bucket Chocolate Shakes with an egg added to it will not help you slim down. Belly fat is a disease caused by too many trips to Beth’s Bar. Removing ice from Old-Fashioned’s, however, can burn the calories accompanied by diet and exercise …”
Okay, I get the logic. If Sergeant Highway tells you to eat Ho Ho’s with the alligators, by gum, have the Hostess truck sent to Okefenokee Swamp on the double. He tells you to run sprints on top of the Golden Gate Bridge, have climbing rope handy. If he asks you to go to Mimi’s and get her head out of her butt and go back to Gil and take some responsibility for once, okay, it’s like telling an alligator to do the same thing but if you want to be a Mudlark or a Marine, you improvise, you overcome, you adapt.
But we’re treading dangerously into Jami Thorp turf here. Dorothy Wolfe will build character by erecting a tree with Jami’s Tinkertoy set? Makes sense to me. Keri will endure her mom’s lascivious and lecherous lifestyle via group hugs with Tickle Me Elmo’s fabricated entirely from Lego blocks???? We’ve already run the gamut on singing Mother Goose at hockey matches, why do we need to make Mt. Everest out of a molehill with Jenga blocks? Is Jami going to go marching with the rest of the reconnaissance platoon? Are they going to have war games where the Lady Mudlarks were supposed to lose to Major Malcolm Powers but instead whups his men upside their head with softball bats???? Yeah, improvise, overcome and adapt when you can’t find a bayonet in the dugout.
At the summer softball camp
”DROP YOUR LOCKS AND GRAB YOUR SOCKS!!!!!!!!”
”Coach, you said the Tournament Final wouldn’t be until the next day.”
”SO I DON’T HAVE A CALENDAR!!!!!!!! SO I WAS ONCE A WUSSY LIKE GIL!!!!!!!! YOU IMPROVISE!!!!! YOU OVERCOME!!!!!!”
”Our uniforms are still in the wash and the laundromat doesn’t open until 7.”
”THEN GRAB AN AK-47 ASSAULT RIFLE AND PICK THE LOCK!!!!!!!!! YOU OVERCOME!!!!!! YOU ADAPT!!!!!!!!!”
”Swede is coming to stomp your butt!!!!”
”HE COULDN’T BEAT JAMI THORP IN STRATEGO!!!!!!!!!! NOW FALL OUT!!!!!!! YOUR MARINES AND MUDLARKS NOW!!!!!!!”
Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer
”Coach Thorp Adds Sergeant Foley To Baseball Team!!!!!! Coach Tays Assigned On Sabbatical!!!!!!!!!!”
sub headline
”The first project on Thorp’s list is inducing Zack Mayo to DOR, especially after discovering latkes in Mayo’s bunk.”
The Shiny Blobby People return. Now I can account for the two legs on the left as I feel relatively sure that they belong to the two blobby girls on the left. At the halfway point, it’s anybody’s ball game.
The third head presents an interesting problem because the third leg really couldn’t be connected to the third head, given that the leg is about three feet as the crow flies to the right of the head unless we’re calculating nautical miles which might synchronize lower appendages with organs above the neck a little more evenly.
But then why are the fourth and fifth legs approximately perpendicular to each other while the fourth and fifth heads appear to be floating in No Man’s Land? To heck with Lego blocks, is there any way the team can do some emergency reassembly? Boy, talk about building teamwork through adversity. Nothing like popping the noggin back where it usually intersects at the neck and snapping the lower appendages at the proper torsos and being able to say “There’s no ‘i’ in the word ‘common sense’”. At this point, it appears to be lacking where the fourth person’s leg is somewhere in centerfield.
But nice to see Coach Commie metamorphose into General Patton today. Yeah, nobody dies for their team, let them poor dumb butts on Valley Tech or Valley Modified die for their own Mudville 9.
”We’ll return to Full Metal Jacket: Coach Commie Gets Machine-Gunned in the Men’s Room by Leonard Lawrence after these messages. You’re watching WDIG-TV.”
At the Thorp Household sans Mimi
”THE ONLY HORNY PEOPLE OUT OF OKLAHOMA ARE STEERS AND QUEERS!!!!!!!! I DON’T SEE ANY HORNS ON YOU SO YOU AIN’T NO COW WITH HOT FLASHES!!!!!!!!”
”Daddy, Beth is here. She’s really worried. She says she could hear you down the street when she was getting her Slushee at the 7-11.”
”Keri, Daddy is busy. I have some raw recruits that are gonna eat dirt the next ten weeks!!!!!!
I DON’T KNOW BUT IF I COULLLLLLLDDDDDD”
“I don’t know but if I coulllllllldddddd”
“MIMI’S THANG TASTES MIGHTY GOOD”
“Mimi’s thang tastes mighty good”
”DARN GOOD”
”Darn good”
”SO GOOD”
”So good”
”MMM GOOD”
”Mmm good”
REAL GOOD”
“GIL!!!!!! Who’s doing all those noises???? And why don’t you let me in and let a REAL woman do the job.”
”Beth, it’s amazing what computer technology can do. IBM can imitate the whole Full Metal Jacket platoon, even shoot Viet Cong snipers with the skill of Animal Mother.”
”Daddy said he will overcome and adapt once the Haley’s M-O medications settle in his system. Then he’ll be harder than Swede’s biceps and will pack more punch.”
”Keri, if Gil would take those Milford Men’s Clinic EREC-2387 FULL OF METAL caffeine free tablets like I’ve begged him to, he wouldn’t be making a jackass of himself in front of HAL or any other computer. Now Gil, unlock this door and let my love in.”
”Gil, is there another stranger in the house? For we cannot carry on your sexual recovery with any external interference.”
”HELL NO, HAL!!!!!!!!! Now, as I said before, a ewe is a female sheep. Do you take me for a queer, boy?????”
”No sir!!!!!”
”STOP TALKING TO THE GROUND!!!!!!!”
”NO SIR!!!!!!”
”The one female sheep I had ran off with a jackass!!!!!! Your heart belongs to HAL!!!! But your ass belongs to me!!!!!!”
”Daddy, are you yelling at Mommy’s flowers again?”
”Gil, please, end this nonsense. You’re embarrassing the kids and Gunnery Sergeant Highway you’re not. You couldn’t beat a Swedish meatball with your flabby thing, let alone Swede Johansson.”
“I’m going to go get my military Underoos and pretend I’m whupping Swede with my pogo stick-“
”Jami!!!! Cool it!!!!!! All right, Gil, it’s-
”Gil. My program is winding down. Are you sure you bought enough software at Milford Computery? Because your person will wind down too.”
”I took Beth’s advice and sold HAL to the Milford Library. Now Beth isn’t Mimi but try telling that to my personal stock. With those EREC tablets, one swallow of water and we were having more fun than Marty in his shack when the liquor delivery made the rounds. Come get your own computer stick up and running, only at Milford Men’s Clinic.”
The only thing good coming out of this plot is steers and queers. Think of it as Elsie the Cow leaving Ericka in the lurch.
God bless you, Gang.
“MY CORPS!!!!!”
”My Corps!!!!!”
“YOUR CORPS!!!!!”
”Your Corps!!!!!”
”OUR CORPS!!!!!”
“Our Corps!!!!!”
”All right, Foley, that’s enough for one day. Tell the baseball team to go home.”
P1: “Did what, make them smell that dingy cap? And why don’t we get to wear caps in the field, anyway?” No, seriously, why don’t softball players wear caps?
P2: “This is absurd.” “Excuse me?” “This – scratch ‘n sniff fortune cookie fortune. Who thought that was a good idea?”
We can agree that Cami’s idea, though not original, isn’t too farfetched. We can also agree that Dorth’s talent, experience and ego don’t all exactly line up. Is Cami mature enough to handle this potential clash of egos, or will she resort to some passive-aggressive approach like making Dorth read Animal Farm?
Again, I’m cutting it short today because what more needs to be said about this Bad News Bears remake?
The concept is not a bad idea and Berrill would have taken the idea and run with it to Marty’s love shack and back. It reminds me of a movie I saw several years ago “The Doctor”. William Hurt plays a successful but cold surgeon who needed a lesson or two on compassion. No better time to learn when he discovers he has throat cancer. As he experiences the red tape and indifference himself, in other words, from the perspective of THE PATIENT, he attains new insights on how he needs to treat his own patients. The coup de grace is when he recovers successfully from his throat cancer surgery and swears that things will be different this time. No sooner does he make that vow than when he is taking on medical interns as part of their training. He promptly throws them medical gowns to put on, assigns them a “disease” that they are experiencing, and orders them to go to a hospital room where they will be “treated”. The idea is to view the hospital experience through the eyes of the patient as Hurt did. Better doctors are created when those doctors have walked in the shoes of the patients. Message well-received.
Which is pretty much what Coach Thorp is doing, i.e., getting players to play different positions to better appreciate what that player is going through at that position. But Coach, I hate to break this to you but you do have practice uniforms, I’m assuming. There’s really no need for players to wear stuff their mommies bought for them at Milford Second Tyme Around Shoppe. Leo appears to be ready to chill in his bedroom to watch The Flintstones and chat with his girlfriend on the phone after this so-called lesson in humility. Sure, Coach, have them walk a mile in their teammates cleats. But William Hurt had them dressed in medical gowns, not Grease Monkey uniforms, for the lesson in humility. When the Lakers are practicing, it’s usually in purple and gold outfits so you don’t feel like you’re watching The Village People working on defensive sets.
And what in the name of Tiki Jansen does SKIISH mean???? A noise a semi produces when it’s applying the engine brake? A noise the blender at Milford High School cafeteria makes when too many peaches got thrown in when concocting an apple crisp salad? The sound Gil makes when he slips on a banana peel before getting into bed with Beth? Some vibration occurring whenever Mimi and Ericka tongue-kiss the wrong direction? I’m sure it is difficult to contrive different sounds when playing sports and I couldn’t imagine what sound would emanate into the wild blue yonder when Leo slides into second base. But I couldn’t imagine Charlie Hustle SKIISH’ing into third base when taking one for his beloved Cincinnati Reds. Willie Mays making The Catch didn’t SKIISH to deep centerfield for the historic play.
And that makes sense. Tobe threw out his shoulder because he SKIISH’d over to help Leo to his feet. Future SAT vocabulary material. Then it makes me wonder if we’re going to spend another 2-3 weeks on a wild goose chase on Tobe’s possible injury. You do have Ben-Gay in your gym bag, don’t you, Coach? So we can save ourselves the agony of a runaway plot that rambles into next year. We need to put the SKIISH on this.
Today’s Headline in the Milford Enquirer
”Mimi And Ericka Are Declared Okay After Recent 10-Car Pileup On Milford Boulevard In Historic District!!!!!!!!!”
sub headline
”Semi was reported to have SKIISH’d out of control from speeding in the Turn-of-the Century Mansion section due to late delivery to Milford Napa Auto Parts by the district’s boundary. The trunk of Mimi’s car was totaled but covered by Ericka’s insurance.”
REX ALERT!!!!!!! REX ALERT!!!!!!!!
A little more interesting but no less silly is the scenario surrounding the Morgan kids. Now Sarah, you should know better than to leave your brownies on the kitchen counter. Starving kids in Papua New Guinea would give their souls to lick the batter from the spoon. Johnny and Michael couldn’t even do that, they were ordered to go play Tag while the brownies were cooking.
Does Mimi leave the Hamburger Helper on the grill so that some squirrel can climb out of the oak tree when it’s bored with acorns soaked in stir fry? And tell Jami to go play H-O-R-S-E with Ericka? What were you thinking, Rex?
Now we have to spend the next God-knows-how-many weeks kibbutzing how the nurse is going to pump Lassie bone-dry of Betty Crocker. Boy, excitement galore. I’d rank it right up there with Truck Tyler’s unsuccessful advances at Wanda, especially when she’s working penalty overtime at the diner. And of course, Michael and Johnny are judge and jury on this verdict. The Butler chowed down on the brownie mix and had to gorge himself on Ex-Lax. Yeah, way to go, boys. When you can’t indulge in Paradise, shout “J’accuse!!!!” on Lassie in front of the nurse-on-duty.
I mean, does Wilma tell the nurse that Fred couldn’t pump an organ grinder, let alone a Wurlitzer organ, even if the monkey was assisting when they go through the emergency entrance when Fred’s ED flares up again? Did Beth tell the resident doctor that Gil’s function went flabby because he overdosed on pimento sandwiches from Amelia’s Chuck Wagon? Did Mimi tell the same doctor that Jami went color-blind momentarily because he opened the door on Mimi and Ericka because they forgot to bolt the door again? Yeah, it’s okay to play as long as you have somebody guarding the moat.
Let’s make sure that the next time we take our pet mongoose to the Milford Veterinary Clinic that we have our Duncan Hines in a row. Nobody wants to read about your iguana ingesting too many cupcakes and it didn’t leave any forwarding address. Let Mud Mountain Murphy eat his own croissants. Leave the Truck Tyler misadventures somewhere out in the panhandle of Oklahoma. Nobody cares if Wanda said no, I’m not interested and I’m switching shifts with another waitress anyway.
In one of those 58 second text promos from WDIG
”Did you know that Bucket Burgers can help you poop better than coffee? Eat three a day and watch yourself beginning to urinate and poop with the freedom of Fred’s bed. Add some vinegar and some dill pickles and you’ll be pooping liberally so you won’t get off the pot. Doctors have been reporting for years that clinical studies have shown that a steady diet of Bucket Pork Fritters and Folgers will clean you out faster than the softball plot. And a spoonful of sugar on your Bucket French Toast will stimulate your hormones and render you hornier than a rhino…”
Gang, thank you. You’re the world to me. God bless you.
I’m heading to Las Vegas tomorrow for a few days of sightseeing and shows so making this short.
Gil has the idea of instead of actual tryouts for positions, why not pick a spot out of a hat and possibly find a gem on a beach of sand? Waste time using Leo at 2nd base instead of pitcher huh? Hey thats fine in rec ball, but this is varsity high school baseball. I know of no coach at that level who employs this tactic.
Yes everyone has to have some knowledge of every position by the time they get to high school. Im sure I did, but its the nuances of some of em that only the specialists can appreciate. And my god, practice time is limited and field usage is limited too. This idea is to put it mildly, a colossal waste of time.
What the hell is a guy doing on the mound playing catch? Its not level, and he could stumble while reaching for a bad throw and injure himself. Gil you hear me? Scrap this idea at once and go back to fundamental infield practice and use the outfielders to shag fly balls. Put the damn guys where they belong and let them get BETTER AT THAT POSITION.
And how does Gil know if a guy draws the same position he already plays? Then he’ll walk a mile in HIS shoes. DOH!
****I will need someone to cover for me on Friday, but I should be back Monday. Thanks again!****
Too easy to trot out the old Tom Hanks line here. Coach Ochoa said it was okay to cry in softball last season under similar circumstances: Dorothy’s performance directly contributing to a Milford loss. (Under Ochoa’s predecessor, it was okay to cry after your star pitcher was killed.) But the situations aren’t exactly the same, and neither are the responses. Who has learned from the experiences, and how?
2023 Dorothy: Gets shelled, growls after the loss, gets blind pitching tips from Greggg Hammm, goes out and tosses a no-no; 2024 Dorothy: Pitches a gem, strikes out with bases loaded, bawls after the loss, ?
2023 Ochoa: Supportive of Dorothy after the loss; 2024 Ochoa: Asks if Dorothy wants a hoagiesub, lets Dorothy cry but acts all pissy about it
2023 Keri: Tells Dorothy it’s only a game; 2024 Keri: Tells Dorothy the loss isn’t her fault
I’m looking forward to the next time jump where Keri is anointed the next Coach Thorp and Ochoa is off somewhere being an absolutely horrible parent and probably losing custody of her kids… kinda like the last female Coach Thorp.
Who’s being the adult here? Talk amongst yourselves. Spring is in the air and the weather is too nice for yhs to be cooped up inside. teenchy out.
And we see 3 panels of gripping softball action, a swing and a miss by a Mudlark batter wearing number 1, the ball straight as a string like all the other pitches we’ve seen through the years in this strip; then a closeup of the catchers mitt squeezing the huge yellow ball, and then the umpire (wearing a glove!!! NO!!!!) raising his right arm to signal the third strike, bringing an end to this 1-run affair with the Larks on the short end of the scoreboard, 0-1. Yet another backwards score, as Henry still thinks the losing team goes first on the scoreboard, unlike the rest of the world and Mars and Venus too.
The swish noise is somewhat wrong too, as thats a noise for hoops as the ball goes through the hoop. Yeah we all know that but ol Henry…….still learning.
The ump also has a mask that seems to be glued to his face, without a strap around the back of his noggin. I also dont see any bars between the top and bottom, so he is at risk for a fastball right between the eyes, as Elton John would say. AND HE NEVER SAYS ‘YOURE OUT!’ AFTER A STRIKEOUT!! GODDAMN IT BARAJAS WE CANT GET THROUGH A DAY WITHOUT GOING OVER ALL THE MISTAKES IN THE SPORTS LEXICON MADE IN THIS STRIP! HE ONLY SAYS ‘YOURE OUT!’ AFTER A TAG AT THE PLATE!
AND IF I SEE THAT GLOVE AGAIN I WILL ASSUME MICHAEL JACKSON ROSE FROM THE DEAD!!
You be the judge. The backstop is located where the foul line appears to be veering off the batter’s box? I think Tommy Walker is a better Pinball Wizard than he is a grounds crew member. No, Tommy, don’t chalk the concession stand.
Flunked Geometry aside, Dorothy Wolfe is Rocky and she’s about to face Apollo Creed on the mound. Can she get the game-winning run even though she’s confronted with nobody on base? Hey, in Thorpiverse, grand slams with the bases cleared can happen; just close your eyes, imagine her circling the bases like Kirk Gibson in ‘88 and come home to a mob of Lady Mudlark’s all eager to fist-pump her on this field with Vulcan dimensions, a 3-d chess board designed when Marty Moon was on one of his Jack binges.
Then draw it on paper and sell it to the newspapers. Man, what a way to make a living.
Let’s get the eye.
Today’s Headline in the Milford Enquirer
”Milford City Engineering To Issue Cease And Desist Order Concerning Mudlark Softball Diamond!!!!!!!!!”
sub headline
”Officials will look to conduct thorough inspection, including reversing centerfield fence, currently positioned in the soccer practice field.”
REX ALERT!!!!!!!!!! REX ALERT!!!!!!!!!!
Hey, I’m cuttin’ this whole post short today. If all I have to talk about is a softball field with home plate pointed towards Ursa Major, it’s time to take my ball and go home. That IS where you can exit the dugout, isn’t it? It looks like where Mimi and Ericka are spending their honeymoon.
But not before we deal with the present crisis at hand where Lassie not only licked the brownie batter bowl to smithereens but proceeded to eat all the brownies, period. Wow. Kinda sorta puts a damper on Hide and Seek. Who wants to hide in the garage when the Duncan Hines got massacred at OK Corral? We need to reverse home plate so that it’s facing the pitcher’s mound so that Democracy and Betty Crocker are restored in Milford and Glenwood.
Next time, Sarah, don’t leave those frickin’ brownies on the kitchen counter where Candy and Abbey and Droopy and Tweety Bird and Rin Tin Tin and Ruff and Daisy and Goofy and Sandy and Foghorn Leghorn and J. Wellington Wimpy and Speedy Gonzales and Wile E. Coyote and Yogi Bear and Boo-Boo and Tarzan’s apes and George of the Jungle and Babar and the rest of the elephant clan and Snoopy and Woodstock and those dancing hippos from Fantasia and Elsa the Lioness and Garfield and Odie and Barfy and Mark Trail’s squirrels that have been biologically interbred to maximize yield in terms of offspring and keeping the deer population in check and The Cow that Jumped over the Moon and Elsie the Cow and Porky Pig and Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd and Top Cat and Sam the Lion and all the animals like the giraffes and okapis and impalas and rhinoceroses and tigers and bears, oh my, escaping out of Dr. Doolittle’s lab.
Next time, put them in the fridge. Dancing hippos don’t know how to manipulate the door handle, trust me.
Really, are all these dog-eat-brownie world storylines intended to cover up the lack of a compelling plot where Fred finally got the combination for his chastity belt when he called that 800 number and is now getting down to some serious business tonight with Wilma? They’ll sleep in the same bed?
I’ll admit that might be an improvement over the dearth of awareness of Mimi and Ericka’s whereabouts. They were last seen at Jami’s Little League game where Ericka managed to trade shifts at the concession stand so that she and Mimi could enjoy each other in the woods during the 7th inning stretch. Gil couldn’t make it because he was having his own problems with the chastity belt. Beth had to order a replacement key.
And where is Heehaw in all of this? No one to share with under the sheets. It gets kinda sorta lonely when the heating pad is your only companion. You can’t plug in a teddy bear.
That’s why you have to have Fred and Wilma get excited for each other to counterbalance the times when Sarah pours too much Kool-Aid mix into the bowl. Nobody with any sense at all cares that Fred used his chastity belt to spank Candy when she devoured Rex’s birthday cake. Sure, let’s drag this Brownie-Gate scenario into the Monster Vehicle mud for as long as Herbert Hoover remains president. But let’s keep it real too. Fred needs to bust out of that chastity belt and do what a man’s gotta do with Wilma. His dad can make it fine back at his studio. Your Christian charity is appreciated, Fred, but your dad can take the Preparation H all by himself, rest assured. Let’s not endure a reversal of priorities and chalk the third base coach’s box on the first base side and vice versa and thereby watch your manhood just become an emery board that is responsible for all the scruffed baseballs that drop a foot when approaching the plate. Do you actually want to deliver spitballs to Wilma? I think not.
”Eye Of The Tiger” is playing in your bedroom, Fred. It’s just you and Wilma. Let Rex go get a Swiffer to clean up the brownie fragments in the kitchen.
Gang, have a great weekend and catcha on the rebound next week. I’m nothing without you.
In Gil’s bedroom
”Daggone it!!!!!! Beth, are you sure this key works? I’ve tried it three times and the belt won’t budge.”
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This Week in Milford 