
As I told Teenchy yesterday, I thought Barry Bader was a thing of the past. Do we have to deal with his evil twin? This is somewhat like “I Sing The Body Electric” where the kids have a robot for a grandma who eventually also becomes their nanny. A Mrs. Barry Bader running on Eveready batteries tucking the kiddies in bed? And she eats Flushee Puffs out of the tuna can on her lunch break? You get the feeling Thorpiverse will not run out of plot ideas at the rate we’re going. I should have kept those old Snappy Dog Food labels and THEN started to write. I would have finished “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner” by now.
Boy, doncha just love one humanoid running out of juice and being put away and ya yank another out of the closet, put the battery cables in the next one, wait an hour, then call him The Mayor?
“Okay, Barry, we’re going to put you back in the closet. You did enough damage to the plot. You did an excellent job while you were an electronic gadget being a horse’s ass and a spoiled brat and a cancer to the team. Oh, and you took somebody out in a game, said something about the umpire’s mother, and you’re dad wound up in Marion, Illinois. Well done, thou good and faithful robot.”
And I guess I could handle The Positronic Man if he wasn’t eating his Wheaties off of a garbage can lid. It’s bad enough that he is fabricating stories but keep this sanitary, Thorpiverse. I really don’t care to hear about how The Positronic Man used a machine gun on Al Capone when Capone was trying to rob the Milford Gambling Casino while The Positronic Man is slurping Green Eggs and Ham out of a Glad 28-Galllon Tall Kitchen Trash Bag. Downin’ it with Mudlar-K-Cola Diet Black Cherry from the GIL mug that Gil slobbered Eight o’ Clock Decaf out of an hour before, boy, I hope my stomach can hold its own while reading about how somebody upchucked his Total cereal and still had good aim on Jesse James, even though Frank James got away when The Positronic Man had to endure one more dry heave.
This plot’s gettin’ off the ground and flyin’ to the moon in one spoonful of Rice Chex, ya think?
Because I was intrigued by Detroit being rejected 7 times to host The Olympics as I read recently
Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer
“Milford Rejected By The Committee A Record 14th Time By The International Olympic Committee”!!!!!!!!!!!!”
sub headline
“Asphalt not drying on the high school track in a sufficient amount of time cited as a factor in the decision.”
And as long Thorpiverse is going to throw The Positronic Man at us TWIMers, we might as well go whole hog and list the 3 rules every Gil-a-Tronic player must follow if he wants to be on the team
1) Do no harm and do everything possible to help the team, even if it means throwing yourself in front of a Milford & Oakwood Express Mail train. Chamoionships were produced from the debris left on the rails.
2) Obey everything Gil says even to the point of jumping off the Mudlark Girls Gym building except if it were to conflict with Rule #1. Common sense is in order at certain hours of the day.
3) A Gil-a-Tronic Man is to preserve himself and not let himself get blindsided especially when interviewing with Marty Moon, except if it were to conflict with Rule #1 and Rule #2. Keeping the world on top for Democracy and keeping Marty Moon on tap is the lifeline for The Gil-a-Tronic Man.
Well, The Mayor is certainly doing no harm in P1 with the The Penguin batting stance (gotcha again, Robmize-ha) , flouting his exploits which we’re sure to get an earful of in the coming weeks. Just don’t pull a Willie Stargell on us and do a simulated warm-up swing in the batter’s box. Much as I respected Willie’s game (big time, 2 rings to show for it) , we do have the rest of the season to think about. Remember, The Gil-a-Tronic Man has to observe Rule #1 and not wipe out the rest of the locker room with your swinging for the fences and/or going “Pops” on your teammates. Otherwise, The Gil-a-Tronic Man is going to get lonely out in left field.
Gil shouting from the dugout
CAME YOUR WAY IN LEFT, CENTER, AND RIGHT, GIL-A-TRONIC MAN!!!!!!!!!!!
Rest my case
Special Edition to The Milford Enquirer
“O.J. Upset That IOC Passed Over Milford Once Again!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
sub headline
“We had the Milford Parks & Recreation Adult Flag Football Field resodded this week. It would have been an international display case for the shot put and the javelin throw.”
And we get to the heart of the issue in P2. And I just LOVE running into people who stretch the truth in many different directions. I used to go to church with a guy who showed me his yearbook at his house and talked about how he was a 4.0 student and he was the starting point guard on the basketball team. He would have fit right on the Mudlarks bench, next to the 6th Man.
Anyway, of course, when I didn’t see his mug in the photo shoot of the Varsity Basketball team, he naturally said that he was sick in bed with the flu that day. Sure, Gil-a-Tronic Man wannabe, I understand. COVID-19 kept a lot of liars under the sheets that day.
And of course, he would brag about his adventures at Entebbe, that he was the first one at the airport and he blasted the first two hijackers and the SWAT team mopped up after that. Winning in a rout, it’s Miller Time, SWAT dudes.
And I swallowed it even though the authenticity was obviously buried in The Mayor’s Baggie under the parsley. And I would have ridden off into the sunset with the shit piled as high as those double-decker trees until he started bragging how he was the one that said “Remember the Alamo” at San Juan Hill. How he shoveled Roosevelt’s horse’s droppings. Pseudo-Gil-a-Tronic Man, if you’re going to prevaricate, is there any way you could keep the time period within our lifetime? And be a little more proper? There’s kids reading this blog.
But THAT’S what we appear to be facing in our anti-hero for the next few weeks. Oh boy.
“Don’t sit on top of the dugout, Gil-a-Tronic Man”
“But Master Thorp, I am only obeying Rule #2. They said this plot is getting so bad, they’ll be raining eggs and tomatoes before too long. We wouldn’t have a coach if you got buried in the avalanche.”
“Need an umbrella?”
And is this all of Hiawatha James’ job description on this strip, dunk the basketball, look stupid with that Mr T.-a-Tronic hairdo in the locker or dugout, be a wet blanket for somebody else’s How I Spent My Off-Season essay/comedy schtick? Didn’t I post when Barry Bader was Badering about his role on the team and ‘watha’s rapier wit shot BB Gun down into the corn field adjacent to the Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage Orientation Building? It seems like his only function is post up, deliver the Jay Leno punchline.
There’s hope. Remember, Kirk Gibson only had one at-bat in the ’88 World Series. If ‘watha can shoot down Dennis Eckersley or The Mayor, he has a career at the Milford Comedy Club.
“…do I look like, Keith Smart with only one shot?”
“Gil, why are the Indiana fans leaving?”
Weekly Supplement to the Milford Enquirer, replete with 13,643 ad sections
“Milford City Council Orders Shutdown On Milford Natatorium After IOC Snub!!!!!!!!!!!”
sub headline
“Spokesperson said diving board was damaged after Coach Shaw performed a swan dive; repairs will be implented in the next 10 days in conformity with IOC regulations.”
At the top of the Milford Federal Credit Union Building, by the observation deck, the Milford Police is trying to talk The Gil-a-Tronic Man off the ledge
“No!!!!!! No!!!!!! Gil-a-Tronic Man!!!!!!!!! Even Rule #3 says you can’t do any harm to yourself!!!!!!!!!!!”
“Except if it’s meant to save another human being as in Rule #2. And with this plot heading towards the sewer, it’s a matter of time before the plot puts the constituency to sleep. Then the Communists will cross the border and it’s only a matter of time before Chairman Mao occupies 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue and Pytor Ilyich Lenin occupies Gil’s office. Then you really WILL have a non-coach, but this time with an Iron and Sickle in the gym.”
JUMP, GIL-A-TRONIC MAN, JUMP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And P3 is just vintage Thorpiverse. When confronted with reality, does Barry Bader Jr. admit the story just might be a tad prefabricated? Nope, he’s got to employ selective memory.
“Gee, I can’t remember how I injured my butt. It’s a coin flip between when I slipped off the rope when I was walking on the tightrope over the Grand Canyon or there was a wet spot in the hallway after someone spilled Mudlar-K-Cola. I’ll give you a final answer tomorrow in the Physics Lab.”
On second thought, Hiawatha James reminds me of a scene in the movie “Patton” when Patton has taken over command in North Africa and makes the rounds inspecting the troops, mess hall, offices, barracks, etc. When he catches a sentry sleeping, he kicks the living shit out of the soldier. The soldier is visibly annoyed but when he realizes it’s Patton, he gives him a very hasty salute. Patton responded
“Keep on going. You’re about the only son of a bitch around here who knows what he’s doing.”
After kicking Barry Bader Jr. in the head, I’d say the same about Hiawatha James.
“And we’ll be back to see if Barry Bader Jr. can finish his swim across the English Channel with a 50-pound anvil tied to him and no shark repellant on another exciting episode of ‘You Asked For It’ after these messages. This is WDIG-TV.”
At Coach Shaw’s house, Mrs. Shaw pounding on the linen closet door
“Honeyyyyyyyyy, come out of closet!!!!!!!! I know you have it dead-bolted but I’m hornnnnyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!!!”
“No way, Darling. The Positronic Man must never do any harm. If I were to engage in copulation with a cue stick, our sex lives would be ruined. I am following Rule #1 to the letter.”
“But why don’t you follow Rule #2 and obey my orders so we can go to bed and have some fun. Even a cue stick deals with lots of balls.”
“Ball one, blubba blubba, ball two, yer out, well, you see, Rule #3 says I must never do harm to myself. Going in and out, in and out, in and out with a ginsu knife might cut like a knife but it wouldn’t feel right. And how would we carve the turkey? I’d have to go to the Kwikee Mart on Thanksgiving and snag some plastic cutlery off the shelves.”
“Paper, plastic, Honey, I don’t care what silverware you use, why don’t you pretend I’m pumpkin pie and dig into me? Even The Positronic Man sits down with his master at the table at Thanksgiving.”
“And get Stove Top Stuffing all over me? Do you realize how that shit messes up the wiring in my gadgetry? I’ll be spitting out dried croutons and be awash in cranberry sauce. I couldn’t keep the earth safe from aliens from outer space with mashed potatoes and Flushee Puffs all over my uniform!!!!!!!!”
“Even The Positronic Man uses napkins. You can’t disobey that one.”
“She had me there. And the moths were eating through my wiring anyway. She sent me down to Milford Men’s Clinic to give my significant other the once-over. With proven treatment programs that work, isn’t it time YOU obeyed rule #2 and obeyed your sexual instincts. Coming from the Planet of Robotics never felt better. Come get charged at Milford Men’s Clinic today. You’ll be glad you did.”
Gang, you mean the world to me. In fact, when I get done climbing the Golden Gate Bridge, I’ll be sure to read every one of your comments.
At the Milford & Oakwood RR crossing one fine day
VVVVVVVRRRRRRROOOOOMMMMMMMM
“Oh no, Gil. I knew I shouldn’t have bought her Cutty Sark at discount at Milford Beverage Warehouse!!!!!!”
“OMG!!!!!!!!!!! She’ll be cut in a million pieces!!!!!!!!!!!!”
At the crossing
“Grandma Thorp, are you OK????”
“Yes, just a few scratches on my knees but I’m fine. Where’s the pram?”
“Keri caught it before the train could do any damage.”
“Grandma Thorp, I thought for sure the train made you Chop Suey.”
“Oh, Jaime, that’s the beauty of robots and bad plots. They may get torn to pieces but they always get back up.”
I Sing The Body Gil
Tomorrow’s headline in the Milford Enquirer running through the presses
“City Commission Seeks Bond Issue To Finance Olympic Basketball At Mudlark Gym In ’24 Games!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
sub headline
“Funds earmarked towards 5,000 seat expansion should run on schedule and construction slated for next week.”