This Week in Milford

August 8, 2018

Golf Plot At OK Corral

Filed under: comic crossovers, general nonsense, golf, Just plain sad — tdrewhardin @ 3:19 pm

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This is getting ridiculously easy to pick apart. We didn’t know who the Dalton Gang was before, we only had clues such as Gunfighting Ethics (“Don’t point that Colt .45 at a woman!!!!!!!!!) or MAYBE locations where they were playing and evidently winning like Pine Ridge CC, BUT WE DO NOW!!!!!!!!!!!! And you gotta be kidding me. I was expecting macho hunks that Little Joe and Hoss would be engaging in war with behind a boulder as big as an elephant or in the kitchen at the Ponderosa ranch. Can’t let ’em steal the microwave, can we, Mr. Cartwright (“Don’t let ’em get the Tupperware!!!!!!!!)?

But nooooooooooooo, these assholes are no worse than what you’d see Greg and Peter and Bobby fighting in the neighborhood on The Brady Bunch or Alfalfa and Spanky and Buckwheat would take on to defend Darla’s honor. If we’re going to endure a bad golf plot in the month of August, damn, Thorpiverse, can we upgrade the villainry? Bart Simpson could waylay these guys with his Butterfingers bar. Heck, the Cartwrights could potty-train these guys.

And then there’s P1. No, no, say it ain’t so, Thorpiverse. Please don’t tell me I’m seeing Wilson Casey with Third Degree Plumber’s Butt. I am really trying to close my eyes and imagine Wilson wearing Jack Nicklaus Haggar slacks and spiffy Arrow golf shirt topped by the sporty golf shoes that earned Nicklaus the moniker “The Golden Bear”. But I open my eyes and I see The Golden Butt in the worst putting stance wearing his gym clothes that he dragged from the lost-and-found hamper in the locker room at Milford High School gym. He’s just roadkill for these jerks who were jerks in their mother’s uterus during gestation. You simply don’t fight Ike Clanton with a water pistol.

And who’s this third guy? Ed McMahon? Just laughs at all their jokes even when they’re not even remotely funny? He just tags along and encourages them to make fun of Wilson and Tony, flout cell phone rules, and tag along in the rear when they’re about to tee off? What a life. Boy, THIS plot’s getting off to a roaring start. And to think we’re just weeks away from football. We only have basically 3 weeks of ineptitude to work in. Can I get him to go get me the $5 Lunch Bucket Brigade? I’ll give him a 10 and he can keep the change.

 

A Duluth Trading Company commercial late at night on The Milford Family Channel

“How to fix Plumber’s Butt:

Step 1: Identify the problem.

‘Man, Dude, I could take putting practice in that thing. You’re a human sand trap!!!!!’

Step 2: Remove those god-awful articles of clothing. Do it in the woods as there are ladies present. Use Off!!!! Spray if you need to and watch the raccoons.

Step 3: Put on Duluth Long Tail T-Shirt and Shorts. Put on Duluth Trading Boxer Shorts first to keep plot on schedule. We don’t want emergency changes in the woods on August 31st.

Step 4: Double-check your work.

‘Ooooooooooooooo, he’s so sexy looking in that Long Tail T!!!!!!!!!!!!! And his butt isn’t dragging along the fairways!!!!!!!!!!!’  ‘Yeah, wish I could say the same for the plot!!!!!!!!’

Problem solved.

 

If ya wore the same clothes to fix yore U-pipe underneath yore sink, proudly displaying yore Grand Canyon to the world, that ya yore later that afternoon when ya knocked in a hole-in-one, with Gil ‘n’ Kaz ‘n’ a Notary serving as witnesses, ya might be a redneck.

 

Additions to the survey that a person receives when they eat at The Bucket

 

Did you order items from the Dollar Menu?  1) Yes  2) No  3) Aren’t all items at The Bucket dollar items?

What did you order?

Bucket Bitty Burger

Bucket Burrito

Bucket Biscuit w/Sausage

Bucket Biscuit w/Hot Cakes

Bucket Biscuit w/Lollipop

Bucket Chicken Sandwich

Bucket o’ Ribs

Bucket o’ Ribs Marinaded in Jack Daniels Straight

Bucket o’ Ribs Marinaded in Jack Daniels Straight w/Hot Cakes

Bucket o’ Ribs Marinaded in Jack Daniels Straight w/ Hot Cakes and Chaser

 

Rate the cleanliness of the rest rooms  1) Before I got diarrhea from the Lousiana Lightnin’ Sauce on the Bucket o’ Ribs?  2) Somewhat Unclean  3) Neither Clean nor Unclean  4) Somewhat Clean  5) Very Clean

I had to use the Time-Out Table because I said the Bucket Con Carne looked like something Mr. Ed would consume out of his pail  1) Strongly Disagree  2) Somewhat Disagree  3) Neither Agree nor Disagree  4) Somewhat Agree  5) Strongly Disagree

Did you use drive-thru?  1) Yes  2) No  3) I would have used drive-thru but my car got repossessed by Milford Finance

How fast was drive-thru?  1) Very Slow  2) Somewhat Slow  3) Neither Fast nor Slow  4) Somewhat Fast  5) Checker Flag at Pick-Up

Rate the friendliness of drive-thru staff  1) Very Unfriendly  2) Somewhat Unfriendly  3) n/a-cashier had to take a dump  4) Somewhat Friendly  5) Like Mr. Green Jeans was taking your order

 

Due to overwhelming popularity with Buy One Liver Cheeseburger and Bucket Fries Combo, Get One Free, we are adding a Bucket Road Ice Cream Float to order to express our appreciation to our great customers and to address complaints of Liver Cheese breath by some of our customers. We apologize for any inconvenience.

 

Then there’s Mutt and Jeff. Insulting my hobby (LOVE to collect old comic strips) aside, let’s just call these jerks…Mutt and Jeff. Why not? They pretty well wrote their own script on this one and will have a hard time getting out of this plot(darn the luck). Can anyone be possibly be taking these losers seriously? Yeah, they shoot a few shots at our heroes but there is NO WAY this is Spike Lee vs. Reggie Miller trash talk proportions. My Man Reggie would shrug off these children and keep shooting 3 after 3. Let THESE guys get in your head? Said another way, let Mutt and Jeff get in your head? If Reggie could shake off Spike, he could shake off Dagwood and Barney Google. Come up with spicier attitudes than that, Thorpiverse.

And I’m not EVEN going to comment on P3. Are Mutt and Jeff going to tell Wilson tomorrow when Wilson is hanging his head “You’re mother drives a pickle wagon?” “Your mother wears army boots?” “Your mother eats Mike and Ike Candy”. Yeah, goin’ for the throat, Mutt and Jeff. You’ve really reached new lows. McMahon’s really laughing his ass off when he’s not lapping your behinds in P2.

 

“And here at BlackthorneSt.FabiansPineRidgeAleutianIslands CC, Wilson has dug himself out of the sand trap and scored an eagle, no thanks to Coach T’s coaching. Stick to coaching your kids. We’ll be right back after these messages. This is Marty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG, a division of Lear Field Sports.”

 

“I FEEL LIKE TAKING ALL MY CLOTHES OFF, DANCING TO THE RITE OF SPRING, WHEN I WOULDN’T NORMALLY DO THIS KIND OF THING!!!!!!!!!”

Coach Kaz opens the door to Gil’s office.

Gil is discoing in his Duluth Trading Company boxers. He slams off the jam box.

“Whoooaaaaaa, Gil, I’ll just comer back later.”

“No, no, Kaz, whattya need?”

“Uh, another coach called for Moose. Do you wanna fax his stats?”

“Yeah, but you’re going to have to use Dr. Pearl’s office. Mine’s down again.”

“Sure, sure, I completely understand. I think I have everything in his file.”

“Wait, you might need his SAT scores. I have them in that file cabinet over there.”

“Nahhhh, I think Dr. Pearl has them in her desk and I can get the key from Luhm. You go on and trip the light fantastic.”

“You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

“Who would I tell?”

Gil is stuck for an answer. He can’t ask the audience on “Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?”

“BTW, did you go to The Bucket and have the Liver Cheeseburger again?”

 

“I had to confront my Erectile Dysfunction problem once and for all. I was having trouble pumping up for Mimi and was resorting to desperate measures. It was embarrassing having to explain to Coach Kaz my position. But he rewarded my coming out of the closet by resteering me to the Milford Men’s Clinic. With treatment programs that work, I can do my best imitation of John Travolta at the Milford Elks Club without worrying about getting the battery charged. And Mimi’s fun in bed too. I can get it on in both places. You can too. Come get that Disco Inferno at the Milford Men’s Clinic today.

 

Gang, go to it. Great comments yesterday and if you’ll help nail Mutt and Jeff to the wall, it would be mucho apreciado.

 

“Do you want a hot apple pie or 3 cookies for a dollar with your Liver Cheeseburger and Bucket Fries Combo?”

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August 3, 2018

If you were serious about improving you wouldnt wait til August 3rd to start!

What the fuck?? So Gil meets these 2 dildos who apparently love golf enough that they’ll ride thier bikes in the rain to the course. You’d figure if theyre already caddying they should have a working knowledge of golf already. But here’s Gil arriving to teach them.. what?? Doesnt a normal golf course have a pro on hand to give lessons? Especially a private one?  Why the hell does this course have to have the local high school football/basketball/baseball coach come over after his baseball season just ended in August to teach some jimokes how to swing a club, after they should have been playing since freakin April? What have they been doing all this time? Waiting for Gil? By now they should have 25 rounds under their belts – this year. As a longtime golfer this is insulting my intelligence. My dad was a caddie at Olympia Fields CC for a few years in high school, and he didnt need any high school coach telling him anything. He learned to play watching the players he caddied for. These guys should be telling Gil to get the hell outa here cuz we’ve been practicing and playing for months now under the tutulage of Mister Golf Course Pro.

I’m not even starting on Panel 3.  Kid who’se 3 feet tall and carrys maybe 5 clubs in his bag has the moxie to say that? Again, how do those guys get THAT FAR on the course and not know something like that? Where are the ground rules in the clubhouse with that info? And what the hell does that little rule have to do with this storyline anyway??

I need to snap a club in half right now.

July 28, 2018

Shoot Low, Boys – They’re Ridin’ Shetland Ponies

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Quick show of hands: How many of you had to read A Separate Peace in high school? Anyone?  (Son of teenchy had to read it this past school year.)  Do you remember the scene where Finny breaks the Devon School swimming record for the 100-yard freestyle set by A. Hopkins Parker in the sole presence of Gene, then doesn’t want anyone else to know he did?  Pure of spirit, Finny wanted to break the record for its own sake, for the internal sense of satisfaction it gave him, not for any accolades that may have come his way as a result of doing so.

Kevin Pelwecki is no Finny.

Pelwecki’s sole motive in modifying his launch angle was not to try to help his team or, for that matter, to make a serious effort toward advancing his baseball career or using it as a means to help pay for his post-secondary education.  He did it to call just enough attention to himself that he could put on a false modesty act when it became apparent that this particular talent was not going to help him after Milford High.  (Wonder if he ever went to the prom?) He couldn’t even be bothered to remember the name of the guy whose record he was attempting to break (somewhere, Art Shamsky fumes that Rubin didn’t namedrop him throughout this mess).  With today’s strip – for that matter, with any of the strips involving his efforts to become a quarterback or fullback – Pelwecki cements himself in the pantheon of self-promoting attention whores Rubin seems to think every high schooler has to be in the age of social media.  He has his Uncle Rico moment; now he can walk off like so many have done at the end of a Gil Thorp arc that I’m not even gonna try to link to them all.  (Do note the similarity to the end of the spring/summer 2016 arc, with Pelwecki in the Barry Bader role and Gil in the True Standish role).

Finally, on July 28, this slog of a spring arc is over.  Let us speak no more of Pelwecki, or Dafne Dafonte, or Barry Bader – that is, until we try to reference them in a flimsy attempt to maintain continuity, like so many Joe Sharkeys.

(apologies Lewis Grizzard for the post title)

July 21, 2018

We’re From Milford, We’re from Milford…

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… No one likes us
We don’t care
We’re from Milford
F***in’ Milford
No one likes us
We don’t care

I am Bader
Barry Bader
No one likes me
I don’t care
I am Barry
F***in’ Bader
No one likes me
I don’t care

It’s my dad’s fault
It’s not my fault
It’s my dad’s fault
I don’t care
Didn’t know that
Until last week
It’s my dad’s fault
I don’t care

Where was my mom?
Where was my mom?
For the last year
Did she care?
Did she stand up
To my father?
It’s not my fault
I don’t care

I’m Pelwecki
Kev Pelwecki
I hit homers
No one cares
I’ll beat Shankey’s
F***in’ record
You mean Sharkey?
I don’t care

I am Dafne
On a mission
Get in J-school
I don’t care
I’ll expose my
F***in’ classmates
They don’t like me
I don’t care

I am Ms. Rizk
I will take risks
Name’s ironic?
I don’t care
I just care ’bout
F***in’ Trumpet
I will take risks
I don’t care

I’m Kazinski
Bob Kazinski
I don’t coach much
I don’t care
Hair like Venus
Grab that penis
Off the basepath
I don’t care

I am Gil Thorp
Head Coach Gil Thorp
We’re still playing?
I don’t care
Trust the Process?
There’s no process!
When’s my tee time?
I don’t care

 

July 20, 2018

The Reinvention Of Barry Bader (And Other Assorted Unearned Payoffs)

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Remember yesterday when we were lamenting the eleventh hour assertion that Jay Bhatia somehow had a story that needed to be paid off? Also, remember how we have intermittently wondered if Kevin Pelwecki’s pursuit of Joe Sharkey’s home run record would have a conclusion? Also, remember how we’ve all wondered just how long this season was going to go and whether anything at all was going to be settled?

Oh, and there was one more thing we’ve all been wondering, what was it…? Oh yeah, Barry Bader. We wondered if, when and how exactly Barry might achieve some measure of growth in his precarious position as a well established asshole beset on all sides by people who are, at best, disinterested in helping him?

Well folks, it looks like it’s all getting paid off right here, in three panels and in stunning Technicolor. At least it looks like it will in the near future. Can Whigrub pull this off in one more strip? Do they dare? Stay tuned.

July 17, 2018

And They Call This Carnival, Progress

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I was trying to hold it in. I have tried to refrain from using one of my favorite lyrics, hoping things would get better and this plot would limp out of existence. Such is not the case. So from the song “Tristesse” by the Australian group, The Church, this particular lyric is here to save the plot from abject lunacy and give us all a bit of sanity,

First off the agenda, as I told Ned in his post, Daffy is a supernumerary in the Bader household. Until today, her contribution to the conversation was worth as much as the Chips Ahoy brownies on the coffee table. And it’s going downhill from there.

Reinvent himself? Into what? Bozo the Clown? “Okay, boys and girls, I was once a 3rd baseman in AAA for the Pawtucket Red Sox but when I couldn’t hit left-handers, I took up Clowning.”

And who made Daffy judge and jury over Bader’s future anyway? She writes an article about Barry’s dad that I wouldn’t be surprised is the slime of the earth where I can only envision that Pa Bader is Pretty Boy Floyd. Then Barry is left to be this byproduct of this bad seed and will never find his way out of that image at this point, especially if Barry attempts to go by Daffy’s definition of reinventing yourself. That could get interesting.

Daffy, wake up and smell the brownies. BARRY IS A BALLPLAYER!!!!!!!!!!!! Nobody within this galaxy is saying Barry’s a gentleman. The kid is stuck on himself. His image is walking flypaper and has drawn more flies than your sleazy comments. But the brat can play the damn game. That has never been an issue and really shouldn’t be here. Now is not the time to locate the nearest comic book in the room, go back to the inside flap of a Little Dot comic and point to the “You Too Can Be a Locksmith!!!!!!!”

“Barry, just send in $8.95 plus shipping and handling to ‘Locksmiths are God, P.O Box 189, New Thayer’. I think I have stamp in my purse.”

 

“…parting is such sweet sorrow.”

“No problemo, Juliet. I’ll call Barry tomorrow since he’s an apprentice at Milford Lock & Key Shoppe. You sure there’s a cot in the Journalism room?”

“Oh, Romeo, it is in the bathroom by the shower stall. Could you toss a wrench up here? The release switch is a bit rusty.”

 

In the middle ad section of a Richie Rich Deluxe Edition

 

“The Scummy Article That Made a Man Out Of Barry”

“JESUS, Bubba, that’s the worst piece of trash you ever wrote about me!!!!!!!!!!!!! I don’t scratch my crotch between innings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Listen, punk, I’d punch your face in but you might dry up and blow away.”

Later

Barry is kicking over the bat rack in the dugout

“GODDAMIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’ll show Bubba he can’t write dogshit like that and get away with it. OK, I’ll gamble a stamp and send away for Luke Bunkin’s Strength and Conditioning Program.”

6 months later while flexing in front of the mirror in the locker room

“WOW!!!!!!!!! I’ve got muscles rippling like Coach Thorp’s hairdo. I can’t wait to meet Bubba down at The Bucket and settle the score. He’s flexing his gluteus maximus while downing a tomato and wheat germ oil shake. Talk about rubbing it in. I’ll show him.”

While cramming wheat germ oil shake and a random Banana Bucket Split up Bubba’s gluteus maximus in front of a group of approving women including Mrs. Bader

“WHAT?????? Are you still around? I’ll teach you to take liberties with the 1st Amendment. And I bought some Cruex too!!!!!!!!”

Some girlie girl warms up to Barry. “OH BARRY, where did you get those muscles!!!!!!!!”

“Thanks to the Luke Bunkin Training Program, I have strong muscles and tireless legs. It took a while to lift that Polled Heifer and I failed the first few times outrunning that bull in the field but after getting tired of surgery on my abdomen, I decided enough was enough. And unsubstantiated articles are a THING OF THE PAST. And if I can eat 10-day old corn cobs in the pig sty with the rest of the porkers, SO CAN YOU.”

 

Mrs. Bader, WILL YOU PLEASE PUT YOUR GLASSES ON YOUR NOSE AND USE THEM UNLESS THEY’RE STAPLED TO YOUR HEAD??????? You look like a believable character for “Star Trek: The Next Generation After The Next Generation”

 

In the bathroom stall at Milford Gym girls bathroom stall

TOMMY LASORDA POOPED HERE

 

Do you think it’s alright

To leave Barry with Cousin Steven

Something ’bout him ain’t right

He works at night alone

He carries no phone

 

I think it’s alright

Yes, I think it’s alright

 

We’re all alone, cousin

All alone, cousin

Let’s go to the ball field and play

Now that Gil has stored all equipment away

You were always too much work

Being blind, deaf, and a jerk

But Ms. Rizk is on assignment today

 

How would you feel if I racked you with no cup

Turned on the sprinkler and drowned you 10 feet up

Maybe some lining chalk that’s crammed up your ass

Would cause your innards to fart out snowy gas

 

I’m the school custodian

I’m the perverted cheat

It’s what happens when I’m single

And work nights in the heat

 

I love Laffy Taffy stuck up your nose

And using the stem of second base to beat at your toes

What would you think if you swallowed Red Man chew

A veritable feast washed down with Elmer’s Glue

 

We’re all alone, cousin

All alone, cousin

We’re leaving the ball field, okay

Now that Gil is about to get up this day

You weren’t much fun being blind, deaf, and a jerk

But now I’ve got to go back to work.

 

“See the colors changin’

See the colors changin’

See th-SCCCRRRRRAAATTTCCCHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

Peaches drastically ends Tori Amos’ “Beauty of Speed” on the table top

“Marty, what are you DOING?????”

“Let’s see, carry the one and that should make the last 2 digits end in ’00’, making that a factor of 4.”

“Marty, why don’t you come to bed with me? This is the second night and I’ve barely gotten a cold kiss out of you. We only have 3 days left.”

“Peaches, I’m on a roll!!!!!! I’m trying to solve Fermat’s Last Theorem. If I can win over the Milford Mathematical Society, I will no longer have to put up with those snarly kids at WDIG!!!!!”

“Marty, I know you. You will NEVER quit your job at the radio station even if you have $1 million at Milford State Bank and right now it’s this Furman guy or me.”

“Oh c’mon, Peaches!!!!!!!! I just need to work through a kink in the quadratic equation because I think I added 1 radical too many, plus I have still haven’t proven 2+2=4 through reductio ad absurdum. But I’m getting there. Hmmmmmmm, but this contradicts the fact that there are 3 mangoes instead of 5. That’s it!!!!!!!! Now it’s just a matter of time. Shit!!!!!!! If I can angle this TI-46 towards the lava lamp just right.”

“Marty, one theorem you haven’t proven is that I turn you on. Now let’s put aside that weetle itty-bitty cal-kee-late-or and come to bed.”

“AND JUST WHEN I’M ON THE VERGE OF QUOD ERAT DEMONSTRANDUM???????????”

 

Needless to say, the papers were never submitted to the MMS. And to add insult to injury, Marty never had sex. Peaches left. The proof on his theorem was as weak as his wim wim.

Fortunately, the Milford Men’s Clinic can cure Erectile Dysfunction so that Boolean Algebra takes a back seat to mathematical ecstasy. Sex will never be the same once the positive conjugate enters the negative conjugate. That’s one complex number Marty forgot to factor in that night. BUT, he will have his graphing calculator and his ED medicine this weekend or my name isn’t Georg Cantor. The Milford Men’s Clinic has satisfied Gauss and Newton and it can satisfy YOU. Check it out today. You have nothing to lose but unnecessary digits on a repeating decimal.

 

Gang, comment away. I’m going to use a tire jack to pry those glasses off Mrs. Bader.

 

“Daggone it!!!!!!! The solar batteries went dead!!!!!!!!! Peaches, do you have your calculator?????”

“The one I use to figure my piece count at Milford Foundry???? I left it in my other purse at home.”

July 16, 2018

Del’s a Witch! He Turned Me Into A Ballplayer!

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Alright already with the glasses propped up on your forehead, Ma Bader. Have you had to read any print since you answered the door for Dafne, served brownies and sat down on the couch? Not that I can see. That’s just a minor gripe before moving on to the main issue…

What the hell is going on here? Why did Ma Bader invite Dafne over to have a front row seat for her Come To Jesus talk with Barry? She told Dafne she was there to “help me save my son”. How is Dafne supposed to help? Clearly Ma Bader needed to have this talk with Barry. Dafne’s article and Barry’s reaction did provide Ma with a “teachable moment”, but Dafne doesn’t have to shouldn’t be there. Boundaries, people!

It’s also clear that Ma Bader is in way over her head here. She’s calling her son damaged and attributing the damage to Del. I’d love to hear a reaction from an experienced family therapist on this line of conversation. It seems overly confrontational and judgmental. However, it is apparent that Ma Bader has suffered much too and in Del’s absence has only begun to come to terms with how to help Barry. They need professional help, not Dafne Dafonte.

July 14, 2018

I Apologize, Betty Crocker was all out of trapezoid brownies.

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Wait, wait, wait. Before we go ANY further, weren’t Aunt Bea and Opie going to fellowship over brownies? At least, the last time Daffy Duck went to Yalta to report on Stalin’s and Churchill’s bitches and gripes for the Milford Enquirer, that’s what people munched on. And if Ma Bader is on her hands and knees trying to get Daffy to change Barry from Goofus to Gallant, well, BROWNIES WORKED THE LAST TIME. WHY SWITCH TO CHIPS AHOY?????????? I admit in Mayberry, the more conventional culinary wisdom when catching up on the latest gossip would have been milk and cookies but brownies was an adequate substitute. But those look like COOKIES to me on the coffee table, being washed down by a Bucket Triple Chocolate Shake. The Uber driver arrived well before The Summit (“WE have 1 more coming, does the Uber driver have another T-Choc Shake in the fridge in his trunk?”).

 

Steve Luhm, writing off Milford High School Janitorial Science Department stationery

“Ms. Rizk, I love everything about you. Your Granny dreadlocks get me erect and you have eyes like frying pans smeared in Pam.”

A week later

“Hey, I dig your letter but didn’t Fred tell Wilma that she had frying pan eyes? I think that was the episode where Fred and Barney took Dino to the Bedrock Veterinary Clinic to get medicine for Dino’s tapeworms. I was 79 years old then so my memory’s slipping. I watched that episode on the ‘M’ Computer during my planning period.”

 

Watching Barry in negotiations with Daffy is comical. ” I really DID see Elvis and now you’re making me a liar. He and OJ and me went down to The Bucket to see if I had any chance at pro ball since I’m the star of the team. As long as Moose is going to swing his weight around, I might as well do some swinging myself. And you write like I was still in T-Ball”.

Richard, you did a lot for the country, you normalized relations with China and Russia, the economy did well under your leadership, for a Republican, you were very environment-friendly, BUT YOU’RE STILL A CROOK.

 

And gang, I promised you That Daffy’s day in court was coming. The Day of Reckoning is today. Sung to the tune “Good-Lookin’ Woman” by Norman Greenbaum, awayyyyyyyyy we go

 

You’re a sleaze-talkin’ woman, oh yeah

You spew venom out of your womb, oh, oh, yeah

There’s no mercy when you write

All of Milford goes running

They don’t want to get slammed and slimed

Time after time

They’d rather be napalmed

 

It’s gonna take manners to keep you around, Baby

Nothing like manners to keep you on the ground, Baby

You wonder why they hate you

Babe, it’s no-brainer

You are a viper

We need a restrainer

On a sleaze-talkin’ woman

Sleaze-talkin’ woman

Sleaze-talkin woman

Sleaze-talkin’ woman like you

 

You did a hose job on Pa and Barry, oh yeah

Reese’s Bits ‘n’ Pieces, that’s what’s scary, oh, oh, yeah

You could be Society’s Child

If you live like a human

I’m not holding my breath on that

The chances are fat

And baboons act better

 

It’s gonna take manners to keep you around, Baby

You behave like a tick-ridden, smelly bloodhound, Baby

You worry ’bout the future

Babe, you could end it

Use manners like money

Be willing to spend it

On a sleaze-talkin’ woman

Sleaze-talkin’ woman

Sleaze-talkin woman

Sleaze-talkin’ woman like you

 

Thank you for your patience, gang. You guys did a great scouring on Daffy. Just finishing the job.

 

Don Drysdale comes to Milford

 

While Don is throwing grapefruits to Moose during batting practice

“Don, I understand you played a little ball.”

“That’s right, Gil. Played for the Dodgers for years.”

“And do you have any advice for Moose here?”

While Moose is whackin’ ’em to the top of OJ’s townhouse across the field

“Sure. It’s not an easy road, son. You gotta pay your dues. Long bus rides. Greasy spoon restaurants. And I roomed with Tommy Lasorda while we were playing for Albuquerque. God, the shit he left in the shower when we were getting ready to go. One day, I asked Tommy after he used the Motel 6 towel to wipe his ass, My Man, the maid does supply toilet paper in the stall. Then he used 2 rolls every time he took a shit. I got left with 1/2 a paper towel, that gritty stuff you clean your butt with in the Milford boys bathroom. On the mound, it’s HELL pitching against the Reds and the sandpaper itch creeps up your butthole. Son, take my word for it, it’s a long ride.”

Don leaves to go down to Milford Sporting Goods to sign autographs and endorse his latest book “Life’s Lesson’s I Learned in Milford”

“Well, Moose, did you learn anything?”

Trying to pry one batting doughnut off because it’s not heavy enough to help improve his bat speed

“Sure, next time, make sure you bring 2 Charmin Rose-Scented 2-Ply 12-Roll Paks and stash ’em under the bed.”

 

“Oh, but Daffy, my Barry really is a good boy. Just because he stares at the mirror doesn’t make him a bad boy. He may be deaf, dumb and a jerk but he’s not Bart Simpson.”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“OJ Filing Suit After Baseball Lands In His Aquarium!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Proceedings Will Not Take Place Until October; Judge Ito Is On Sabbatical.”

 

“Mr. Chambers. Mr. Chambers. It is the meal time. Kindly state your preference.”

“Oh, all right. I want a Triple Bucket Burger, hold the mayo, extra pickles, extra cheese, and X-large order of Chili Bucket Fries, and a Dutch Chocolate Bucket o’ Shake.”

“Small, medium, or large?”

“Aaaaaa, I’ll take large.”

“My, my, Mr. Chambers”, the lighted tube speaking briskly and efficiently, “You are going to be a 3-course meal by the end of September.”

“I thought you Kanamits have no sense of time.”

“We always know when it’s a certain time of the year. The plot finally ceases and that’s when we make our move to earth to get more condiments, er, people. The population of Milford is high on our list. They are haute cuisine of the human race.”

“BTW, how’d you manage to bring another Bucket up here?”

“We had a little trouble at the 5th Galaxy but after that, the legal deeds, property taxes, easement issues, parcel outlots, legal fees, environmental concerns, economic impact studies were simply a matter of time.”

 

A one Michael Chambers is left to ponder in amazement the denouement of The Bucket in the world of the Kanamits while his existence is on life support. Many careers fade, sadly to say, into a pot of boiling stew and while you’re commenting away on today’s strip, this story exemplifies that Man is a star about to nova in a world we call…The Twilight Zone

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