Much Ado About Turnovers

Well TWIMers, I think we’re justified in pulling this old chestnut back out of the fire. You didn’t have to be in the Houston Astros’ bullpen to see all this coming.

Sure enough, Gil’s poorly prepared Mudlarks collapsed like a house of cards against the Jeffs, Charlie Roh got his touches in garbage time, and pissy Chet Ballard got on the horn to Marty Moon.

Chet’s little prank call to Marjie didn’t put Chance on the bench; what makes him think calling Marty will do the same? That idea is as outdated as the physical inbox on his desk. Only Marty gets on-air digs at Gil; it’s in the call sign after all. Now it remains to be seen just how Moon will hold up the code of omertà he has with Thorp and give Ballard his comeuppance. Hot mike like B/Robby Howry, or something a bit more subtle?

A wee bit of credit where credit’s due: at least Chet didn’t run over or through that stop sign in front of his car while he was dissing Gil. If he had, his next call might have been to Del Bader’s lawyer.

New month. Same old problems

A week after we last played a game the only thing thats changed is the calendar. The Mudlarks are predictably rusty after the layoff that was all about improving Chet Chitchats attitude toward the running of the football team, and he’s still bitching about Gils use of his china doll Charlie Roh. Hey Chet — you are a parent, not a coach. You dont get to decide who plays. This isnt about massaging egos. Its about winning and displaying sportsmanship, neither of which are in evidence here.

P1 looks like the Larks  called a screen pass,  letting the linemen in and throwing over them while the O-line is blocking downfield. But evidently the pass isnt high enough, and is a pick 6. Big deal. But in Milford land we go from that to 30-7. The roof caved in in 1 panel. We take a week to watch Marjie go over the mysterious phone message, then we skip over a 2-hour game in 1 panel. Dont you love the pace of this strip? Consistent as fresh cement.

By the time Chet looks back at the field the players will be back on the bus.

** With all the recent drawings of Marjie I thought I’d see if there were any errors of consistency by the artist. I thought maybe her hair length was longer in a couple panels but not really. But I did find something– Oct 24 she has 2 bracelets on her left wrist walking in to talk to Gil, and Oct 25 she only has a single wristwatch on that left hand. Otherwise she was drawn pretty much the same.

1, 2, 3, KICK THIS PLOT!!!

And we’re off to the races as we are seeing some football after Gil’s wandering 40 weeks in the desert. And with a lot on the line, there is admittedly some excitement building.

But what better way to experience the equivalent of a hangover than to realize Thorpiverse will find a way to rain on Milford 60th Annual Thanksgiving Day Parade. Maybe Bullwinkle will survive as a float. One can hope.

Still, I’m crossing my fingers that all will be well and that there will be no hitches as two giants have it out on the gridiron in the middle of November. If you’re a football fan, especially high school, you can’t ask for a better script, literally and otherwise.

Even if the Jefferson kicker is catapulting his foot in a perpetually clockwise position so the we learn how the formula 2pi × r was invented, I still think we are on the Royal Road to Football Sanity. Let no man ignorant of designing a decent football plot enter these doors.  Plato couldn’t have said it any better.

So the next time you see your grandma imitate Big Ben with her lower appendages while she’s shopping in the Dairy Department at Wal-Mart, faint not. She will learn, eventually, that the whole is equal to the sum of inane plots and greater than any one of them. She’s just got to see the Big Picture when contorting your tibiae to conform to circumference. The game is bigger than your grandma’s butt or legs, hey, I’m not going to pull teeth even if this plot is doing exactly that.

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Parade Float Blows Away, Winds Up On O.J.’s Condo Property!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“When I saw it, I’m wonderin’ how did Raggedy Ann land on my Maserati? The helium ruined the timing chain in my car.”

One thing we have learned thus far. Jefferson is displaying Nike’s new line of cleats, the Cycloid Hurricane special. Those cleats come in handy should Tropical Storm Marty ever hit Milford the way it hit the coastline.

And haven’t we had enough geometry for one season? I have seen more polylaterals on a guy’s hi-top Keds in one game than I ever dream existed in my Geometry I textbook in one semester.

“DOUG FLUTIE HEAVES IT!!!!!!!!!!! AND BOSTON COLLEGE WINS ON A MIRACLE CAT-dude, look at those trapezoids on that receiver’s shoes. I didn’t know Pic-Way sold those in burgundy.”

 

If ya win the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Turkey Shoot ‘n’ Scramble at the Milford Conser-va-shun Club cuz yore opponent’s shotgun got disqualified cuz the rules disallow all weaponry, including Bowie knives, from displayin’ green clovers and blue diamonds plus whatever the hell else they cram in the Lucky Charms box at Milford Paper & Box factory, ya might be a redneck.

 

Now don’t let Thorpiverse fool ya. The game is getting interesting which is hoping it will lull the TWIMers into a false sense of security. Does anybody REALLY think the plot calls for Jefferson to run up the score, thereby rendering Bluto Beardsley Ballard essentially useless for future concerns? Yeah, right.

As long as his son gets 334 yards and a couple of nice TD runs, Jefferson could put the 4th string in the 3rd quarter when they’re up 234-21 and you aren’t going to hear a word out of Bluto. Not to us readers, anyway. Maybe to his son, building him up as the next Red Grange. And MAYBE to Gil, saying he sucks as a non-coach. MAYBE.

But as Franku pointed out, there are parents that just want their own little Johnny or Janie to succeed, teamwork be damned. God, I encountered plenty of those in my career.

So anybody wishing to challenge me that Chet will disappear because the plot took the “let the cards fall where they may” route and that fair play will rule even if Jefferson does wind up kicking Milford’s ass, albeit not by a ridiculous score mentioned above, boy, do I have some shopping baskets from Milford Beverage Warehouse to sell ya cheap. You can always put your marigolds in there when you’re not shopping for vodka and Chee-tos.

The score will be dictated by where Bluto fits in the scheme of things. Yup, he not only evidently has the School Board wrapped around his finger and the Superintendent as a drinking buddy, he’s also twisting the plotline’s arm.

Buy hey, he can always spare a shopping basket for the Superintendent to store his vacation photos when the latter and his wife went to the Cayman Islands from the trip they won on Wheel of Fortune.

“So tell us a little about yourself.”

“I’m a spineless school official who handles brutes with fleas in their beards and a heavy dose of B.O. in order to keep the education process functional.”

“Wow, that must keep you busy.”

 

Gang, any of you Georgia Wrestling on WTBS remember The Fabulous Free Birds, a tag team duo that predictably had “Free as a Bird” by Lynyrd Skynyrd as their mantra when they were introduced? Naturally, they were the good guys and Gordon Solie, the off-gravelly-voiced announcer for years, did his part to build them up.

Not surprisingly, they had a falling out, the way the script many times played out in these things, no doubt taking a cue from Thorpiverse. Anyway, Michael Hays stayed the Good Guy and Terry Gordy became the Bad Guy, calling himself the Dirty White Boy (Foreigner played the song, in case anyone wants to know) and flashing his pillowy gut, sexy in a strange way, every chance he got.

Well, of course, Michael Hays always got a round of applause every time he came out to interview but just about every time he did, Gordy and some flunkee would drag him in the ring and rub his face in the mat. It was entertaining see the different Revlon colors on his cheek every week and many times it caused continuity errors by being on the wrong cheek. Then there were times someone used a charcoal pencil and did graffiti all over his face. They really wanted to get the fans in the 3-row stands in a frenzy over Gordy. Even if they had to use Magic Markers to make his injuries look authentic.

It worked. And the crowd of course cheered on Hays every time he literally got his nose rubbed in it and the Omni, where they wrestled when the Atlanta Hawks were oit of town, was always sold out for this. As Ron Hudspeth, a well-respected newspaper writer for the Atlanta Constitution once said, you can fool some of the people most of tge time.

So when I saw P2 today, I was wondering if that was Gordy doing a number on Tiki Jansen. If Tiki shows up in the cafeteria with Cover Girl Rouge on his face, my suspicions are confirmed.

 

Early one morning on WDIG-TV

“Okayyyyyyyy, Boys and Girls, how many of you want to win free Mudlar-K-Cola Chocolate Fudge Fizz in the 6-Pack Kiddie Size for life?”

YAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYY

“Well, if you do a cannon ball in that kiddie pool of piranhas and don’t get eaten-”

“Bozo, what happened to your face? You got scrapes all over it.”

“Oh that? Well, some mean man with a belly that’s been bathing in Twinkies too long did a really bad thing. But don’t worry, he’ll get what’s coming to him this Friday at the Milford Gardens.”

“Can we come?”

“Well, Boys and Girls, the only way to get tickets is if you stick your head in that lion’s mouth. Now don’t worry, we pulled out his teeth before the show.”

 

Yesterday’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Snoopy Stuck In Sycamore Tree At Milford Country Club Golf Course.”

sub headline

“Golf Pro at MCC: ‘Why couldn’t they have moved the parade to Christmas? We had to move back our Annual Black Friday Golf Shootout-Shotgun Start. We’ll never get Snoopy out before the Mayor does the honorary tee-off.”

 

“Uhhhhhhhh, Bozo, I understand youuuuu have a match with a one Terry Gordy this coming Friday indeed. Care to elaborate?”

“That’s right, Gordon. Friday night, 8:00 P.M. at the Milford Gardens will be a date with destiny. Yeah, Gordy, I saw what you did with Tiki Jansen. Yeah, you thought it was pretty funny when Gil finally did SOMETHING and wiped that tire tread mark off with sandpaper but-”

“Son, it don’t matter where we do our rasslin, ya got the time, I got the muscle ta take you or any of yore other yellow-bellied clowns at the Milford Gardens, Gil’s garage, the Mudlark Girls Gym, wherever-”

“Now hold on, Terry, you’ll get your chance to interview. Folks, we need to take a station break indeed…”

 

Now you have to admit, if P3 is any indication, that we’re in for a doozy of a ball game, even by Thorpiverse’s molasses-sluggish standards. The Jefferson runner in his Howard Twilley Quadrilateral Nike Specials prove that.

It just gets tainted by that connect-the-dot skyline in the background. I mean, really, if I were to use my #2 pencil, the spare I didn’t use at the Milford High School SAT Testing site, I might unfortunately find out that Ursa Major is really a conglomerate of Gil in his shower cap after he had just gotten out of the shower using Head & Shoulders, when all the stars are accounted for? Oops, I forgot Polaris. I wouldn’t anybody to know Gil has hair but no forehead. Well, that’s pretty much the case but that’s supposed to magically reappear if you’ve faithfully been following the pattern in sequence with your #2.

In the end, someone on the Mudlarks surely has Twilleys of his own to keep the score honest. Maybe ones with a frustum?

 

“We’re here, uhhhhhhhhh, talking with Michael Hays and Tiki Jansen. Gentlemen, your visages are not in their proper conditions indeed. Tiki, I understand you’re, uhhhhhh, not too thrilled after Mr. Gordy rubbed your face in the gridiron especially when a one Gil Thorp just stood back and watched.”

“That’s right, Gordon, and Friday night, 8:30 at The Milford Gardens, me and my partner here are going to be taking care of some business. Gil and Terry, you may think this white powder on my face, the kind you line the field with before the game is funny but me and Michael Hays will have the last laugh.”

“Preach it, Tiki. Cuz y’all been flappin’ our jaws about how your gonna run us out of Milford. Well, this Friday, this lipstick on my cheek is gonna come off and it’s gonna go right back on you. Gil, you’re gonna look funny with Maybelline in your hair and on your face.”

Tiki and Michael Hays leave, the 3-row seat audience on WDIG-TV in a lather

“Formidable words, indeed. We’ll be right back after these messages. Don’t go away.”

 

“Man, all this football and rasslin’ is making me dizzy. Of course, you know that stuff’s all fake and I would never hurt Tiki in a million years. I might still stand on the sidelines with my thumb up my ass but I personally witnessed Michael Hays get his scratch mark stenciled in. They had to use Crayolas on Tiki.

Hi, this is Coach Thorp for Milford Beverage Warehouse and boy do we have some colorful selections. This coach is going to get a case of Corona Extra in the six-pack variety after this match, er, game, win, lose, or default. And he’s only going to be forking over $7.49. Hey, that’s what happens when you save up all that loose change from the Teacher Retirement Fund and store it in your Sun Tea Jumbo Jar.

And Skrewball Peanut Butter Whiskey? Choosy moms choose this bad boy to unwind after a long day of grocery shopping for the slumber party for the kids this weekend. No Jif is necessary here and it’s a steal at $28.99.

And The Warehouse has some great news. It is opening up its own gas station, right behind the Milford Foundry. Now you can get your booze and a fill-up practically in the same spot. Just head down a few hundred feet and the nozzle is as good as you drinking up The Good Life.

And with a purchase of Budweiser Black Lager, $10.49 by my count, you can earn fuel points when you’re on the go. Just hand the receipt to the clerk in the window and watch the gallons rack up, even on the diesel pump. B truck drivers couldn’t ask for any better.

And you quiche-eating namby-pambies are in for a treat. With a purchase of Josh Cellars Cabernet Sauvignon at $15.99, you not only are robbing the store but you’ll be robbing the pumps with a free fill-up. Lexus, Dodge Ram pickup, Mopeds, whatever vehicle you used to maneuver to the Warehouse, it all pumps thesame when you use those fuel points like a Snickers bar. Man, that’s some good eatin’.

Folks, bring the whole family down here where you can get your Michelob Ultra to hoist along on your next family outing at Mudlark Lake and still watch the kids pump the gas. Sounds like Quality Time to me. Start your own Fuel Points ledger and tell ’em Coach Thorp sent ya.”

 

Thank you for your patience, Gang. You all mean everything to me. Our TWIMers are great human beings as well as great commentators. Great combination.

 

CUZ I’M A DIRTY WHITE BOY

 

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

“Gil, head to the Clinic. They have extended for Christmas.”

“Didn’t Foreigner do Cold as Ice?” Gil sings

YOU’RE WILLING TO SACRIFICE OUR LOVE

“Get your butt to The Clinic, Gil.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You’ve Got a Friend in Thorpsylvania

Having enlisted Niah Peters (who has a Twitter feed if nothing else) to join Gil’s little Clue Club, Marjie Ducey now seeks to expand its ranks by having Niah dime on Chet Ballard’s “friend” on the school board. Presumably that’s the aforementioned Carol, who really hasn’t acted very friendly toward Chet. I guess offering advice to mind his own business instead of immediately ratting him out to the rest of the school board qualifies as friendship in the high-stakes world of school administration.

Having freed himself of the burden of confronting anyone directly, Gil can finally turn attention back to his day job… coaching sportsball. Gil’s been spending so much time sleuthing that he’s forgotten about preparing his amazingly one-loss Mudlarks for their upcoming tilt against Jefferson. That lack of preparation should lead to a blowout loss at the hands of the Jeffs, which will serve Gil twofold:

1. The loss will eliminate Milford from the playdowns, keeping Gil from having to prep for football and basketball concurrently;
2. With the game out of reach, he can give Charlie Roh plenty of touches in garbage time, then wait to overhear more of Ballard’s self-incriminating postgame babble to his stepson.

Join us tomorrow for another episode of Gil Thorp Mysteries. Maybe Gil will have recruited a wisecracking ghost and an anthropomorphic animal or two into his posse by then.

“*69” or “Marjie Got Her Crank Yanked”

Poor Marjie. Got a voicemail from a mysterious caller and can’t figure out who it was. If only there was some kind of technology that would allow someone to see who called them… technology that existed oh, say, a quarter of a century ago.

Really, does anyone think Chet has the wherewithal to use caller ID spoofing? He doesn’t even have the self-awareness to not blurt out broad hints that he knows Chance’s backstory within earshot of anyone who could make those hints have consequences.

Give Marjie some credit, though: she knew Gil thought Chet was the prank caller without him ever saying so. (Oh, wait, that’s called exposition.) As for Gil’s curiosity, nothing a little trip to the weight room showers faculty lounge wouldn’t fix. Time to put ol’ beardo Ballard on the defensive and start him on down the path off the school board and into the family doghouse.

Today’s post has an alternate title in homage to Rocky and Bullwinkle.

We heard you the first time dope.

After a month of farting around with these 2 players, all we know for sure is 99% of the school couldnt give a rats ass which one carries the ball on Friday nights.

How the hell is Chet sabotaging Chances workload on the field??

Gil is the coach. Gil decides who plays. Gil calls the plays. Gil controls the action.

Chet is a parent/spectator who yells in the stands. They always say, if you listen to the fans you’ll be sitting with them one day. Gil may finally be on that road.

Marjie’s back, and man she looks hot on Saturday.  (Yes I peeked. No. not there!)

Oh, What a Feeling!

Is Chance trying out for the cheerleading squad or auditioning to sell Toyotas?

I realize I’m dating myself with the latter reference (“Ok Boomer” is the pissy way the kids are saying it this week IIRC). Speaking of pissy, nice shift from pissy-faced to all smiles by old Gildeaux there. You’d think Gil would be having a cow about one of his starters benching himself with a fake injury to give his backup some playing time, but it didn’t faze him that much when True Standish did it for Jarrod Hale a few years back.

Nope, Gil’s just relieved that Chance is staying away from The Bucket, where they have sharp utensils handy. Better Macy and his shadow teammates punch the air harmlessly, another audition to shill old Toyotas…

 

What A Coincidence. The TWIMers Have Staged Their Own Self-Imposed Punishment.

DUM DA DUM DUM

DUM DA DUM DUM

DUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

“The story we are slogging through is true. The names have been mercifully changed to protect the innocent and our sanity.

On November 5th, 2019, trial was held in the Milford Municipal Court for a one Chance Macy. In a moment, the results of that trial.”

 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My eyes are on fire!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Quick, turn off the TV!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Hold on, dear, let me get a glass of water, you’ll feel better.”

 

“Hello, this is Joe Sharkey with The Shark Law Office. George Smutfield was one sick puppy after his frontal retina plantar discs were reduced to ashes after being subjected to a Chance Macy Marathon on WDIG-TV. His pupils became Play-Doh at the juncture where Dr. Pearl was due-processing Chance to Milford Boys Reformatory.”

“I just couldn’t take it anymore. I had to rinse out my corneas after Chance got a paddling, with the science teacher Gil dragged out of Advance Chem Lab, because Chance said Gil couldn’t coach a tandem bike even with handles on. Thank God Chance didn’t say he saw Gil’s crack, like I did, when he was fixing the spokes or I would have had to wash my corneas in Palmolive. Thanks to the aggressive tactics of The Shark Law Office, WDIG-TV settled out of court for $4,548,920,601. Thanks, Shark.”

“Ouch. My eyeballs are in dire need of Visine after listening to that testimonial. But there was a happy ending as you can see.

Insurance companies are hard at work to cover for the couch potatoes who are defenseless against bad programming. Don’t wait until The Joker sinks Batman and Robin in a sulfuric acid bath to get the money you deserve. Call 1-FON-THE-JAWS today. One call, that’s all.”

 

“The Milford Municipal Court accepted the self-inflicted punishment engineered by Chance Macy after Chance had violated Milford Penal Code 134, Section 9, Article 57 “Intolerable Activities that can and many instances indeed lead to Unwarranted and Unforeseen Implications, including Excessive Maudlin Circumstances and General Incorrigible Apathy, which is punishable by 5 years of Incarceration in said comic strip or a fine of $123,000 or both.”

 

“Chance Macy is now serving 3 years in the Flemings’ household and will be compelled to forfeit 25% of his allowance until the $98,345 fine is paid.”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Turns Himself In After Shoplifting Incident At 12 Years Of Age!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I couldn’t go on with THAT on my conscience. The Blow Pop was spiked anyway. And Ito’s a fair judge.”

 

Hoo boy. P1 just uttered Ridiculously Obvious Comment of the Year.

Who ELSE was going to bench Chance after it has become clear, time after time again, that the inmates are running the prison. Couldn’t you see The Shawshank Redemption?

“Warden Norton, I’m going down to The Bucket for that 1/2 off Bucket Steak and Lobster Special. Hard to pass up. Even comes with a salad. Want anything?”

“Yeah, Dufresne, but tell ’em I don’t want tartar sauce this time on that Bucket Grilled Salmon Bowl. Gives me heartburn. Here’s a 50. Keep the change. And don’t forget to shine my shoes when you come back. Me and Hadley are going to a Cubs game this afternoon.”

Spur of the moment, Robmize(ha).

 

I mean, this is just plain silly. After a week of wasting the reader’s time with a practically brazen lack of an invite to investigate Dennis the Menace and why he slugs Ruff every time the poor beast doesn’t eat his Ken’L Ration, our roving reporter morphs into Mr. Rogers?

“Coach, my butt itches something fierce. I gotta take a seat.”

“Hold on, Rick still has some Preparation H left over from that Milford Band Fundraiser Double-Elimination Softball Tournament. Let me go ask him”

As commercial fades to product

“Preparation H helps shrink the swelling of an ego and hemorrhoidal tissues caused by oversweating on an end sweep or off tackle right.  Available OTC at Milford 24-Hour Apothecary today.”

No.

 

“When it’s time to relax

One beer stands clear

Year after year

 

If you’ve got the yards

We’ve got the beeeeeeeerrrrrrr”

 

Miller Time couldn’t get any finer for Chance

 

And nobody more than I is happy for Charlie as he is getting his chance to shine under the bright lights. It always warmed my heart when a kid who was a best-kept secret could overcome things beyond his control to strut his stuff in the public eye.

That said, you KNOW before too long that Loudmouth Ballard will be demanding the game ball after Charlie arguably, at the rate we’re going anyway, chews up the field to the tune of, say, 134 yards, 3 TD’s, as Milford goes on to win, 101-6 (one TD called back because the Mudlarks had 12 men on the field-Chance got a little carried away as a cheerleader-Preparation H will do that, I s’pose) .

 

If ya turn yoreself inta th’ Game Warden after ya killed a ‘coon one day after Bow Season ended but ya eat the contents in yore jail cell and add some Lowry’s Sea Salt ‘n’ Vinegar and share some with Otis the Drunk after he woke up from sleepin’ 12 hours, ya might be a redneck.

Then there’s the scenery. Based upon actual projections and assuming the Madison player to Charlie’s immediate right is not love-fist-bumping Charlie, the second-stringer might have a monster game but not on this play. If this were mathematics and the Convergence Graph were duly employed, Chance will not be asymptomatic here. In plain English, he’s about to get knocked on his ass.

Unless there’s some Arctan function that can ride him out of this trap. Well, as long as Gil isn’t coaching, he might want to employ his trigonometry ratios he learned at Milford Community College. He can teach Law of Cosines while he’s on Coaching Sabbatical.

 

“Coach, I’ve got jock itch bad!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Here, let Lassie lick the wounds. Can you be ready by the 3rd quarter?”

“How ’bout the 4th quarter if I buy the Purina Dog Chow Chicken Flavor?”

“Said and done.”

 

HAVE YOU VOTED!!!!!!!!!! Today’s the day if your area has people running for office. Be sure to get your butt down to the polls if you haven’t already. Remember, you don’t have a right to complain if you don’t exercise Democracy.

 

Hating to repeat myself but oh so true, I love it when a player has faced adversity and then winds up in a feel-good moment as in P3. As a coach, oh, let me count the ways.

That out of the way, it’s a cryin’ shame that Bluto Ballard is primed to ruin this Angels in the Outfield setting. It’s like Ranch Wilder actually WINNING and taking over the Angels or the Mudlark.

AND CHANCE IS BACK ON THE FIELD. WHY HE’S THERE AFTER HE JUST GOT OFF FROM THE MILFORD PRISON FARM LOADING HAY IS BEYOND MY COMPREHENSION. WHY DOESN’T GIL TAKE THE HIGH ROAD AND KEEP CHARLIE IN. THIS IS BAD FOOTBALL, FOLKS.

The generic station manager of WDIG opens the door and walks in

“Ranch?”

Ranch turns around flashing that Pepsodent smile

“Marty’s coming back next week from his flu epidemic. You’re fired.”

YOU CAN’T FIRE ME!!!!!!!!!!!! WE HAD A CONTRACT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’M RANCH WILLLLLLDDDDDEEEERRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Easy, Ranch. Remember, less is more. Especially with those truancy records you and Bluto tried to pawn off at the Milford School Board meeting.”

 

Oooooooookkkkkkkkk, Gene Rayburn is back to restore reason to this sad state of affairs. Take the mike, Gene.

“Dumb Dora was soooooooooooooo dumb (HOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUMB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) , she thought Chance went to the Federal Pen because he committed_____________________ at school.”

 

“And Milford is really running up the score as Coach T. is pulling out all the stops. A new rule in effect this year allows parents of the players to put on a helmet if there are no comparable players available. Looks like Chet Ballard is joining the 4th-string and taking the field. I understand the coaching staff had to use a putty knife to wedge his helmet in with his beard. This comedy of errors gives me an opportunity to take a station break. This is Marty Moon on WDIG, a division of Learfield Sports.”

One late evening at Milford Stor-for-Mor, Door 79

“Honeyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!! I’m hornyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I want you to come home with meeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“I can’t now, Mrs. Shaw. I gotta store these records of Chet Ballard when he set the kindergarten teacher’s dress on fire with his Zippo. As long as he is going to pursue Chance Macy with illegal wiretapping, well, two can play at that game.”

“But is it really necessary to have the iron door clamped shut and dead-bolted?”

“Woman, this is top-secret information that not even the Milford Police SWAT team is privy to. Ain’t no way I’m going to let anybody know who Chet’s 3rd-grade teacher was when he flushed her dentures down the toilet. What’s in-house stays in-house.”

“Darling, I know Chet’s a creep but I don’t think a U-Stor-It place is really necessary to conceal Chet’s vaccination records.”

“Shows you how much you know. He was diagnosed with herpes and didn’t tell anybody. Well, I have his prognosis right here that he tried to keep a secret but after I slipped a sawbuck to the secretary at Milford Minor Emergency Clinic, we can store this El Dorado until the appointed time. If Chet so much as reveals Chance’s Snickers purchases at Milford Confectionary, we can blow the whistle pronto. We’ll show him we can reveal his dirty laundry if he starts messin’ with Chance again.”

“I’d like you to reveal something all right.”

“No way am I going to reveal Dr. Pearl’s love tryst with Benjamin Rush. Yet.”

“A man with a padlock has his own dirty laundry to hide. But when he unzips his pants, the padlock does no good.”

“What could I say? I couldn’t hide my Erectile Dysfunction in the U-Stor-It bin. I had to come clean on my problem and glad I did. With treatment programs that work, shouldn’t YOU make a trip to Milford’s Men’s Clinic for your erectile problems? Come on down and let them unlock your potential. Don’t hide it under a bushel or the flame will get smothered and your significant other will be a Crayola. And there’s only so much Bridge you can play with your wife or Omar Sharif. Come to The Clinic and see for yourself. You’ll be glad you did.”

 

Gang, thanks for your patience. One of these days, I’ll get it together. I promise.

 

“Chet’s song flute is in here somewhere. Oh, here it is, under my picture of me and Mario Andretti in ’69.”

 

On a Haley’s M.O. commercial on WDIG-TV one fine day

“How’s your bowels holding out, Chance?”

“M.-O.K., Coach. I dumped a wad in the Port-a-Pot right before your half-time speech. I’ll go in on the next series.”

“That’s fine. If you need some prune juice, let me know.”