This Week in Milford

May 23, 2019

Chef Gil, This Plot Has Been Chopped

Filed under: actual action, Just plain sad, Madison Time, softball, song parody — tdrewhardin @ 12:37 am

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You’re kidding, right? It’s this much of a no-brainer, kinda like someone handing you a $100,000 check when you’re leaving Milford Wal-Mart Neighborhood Market to take your groceries to the car. No strings attached??? Just don’t forget to sign your John Henry on the back when you cash it at Milford Federal.

Still doing a mental background check on the person the implementer of such largesse, well, gee, duh, if you’re caught up in “Tippicanoe and Gil Thorp too” buttons, worried more how they’ll play on the free market than THE ACTUAL GAME ITSELF, isn’t that another way of saying YOU REAP WHAT YOU SOW???? Yeah, it’s rocket science when you forget “There’s no ‘I’ in the word ‘team'”. We gotta go back to kindergarten to figure that out????? Linda, right now, I wouldn’t give you a scholarship on Romper Room’s intramural team.

 

“Coach, since you’re not going to do much coaching until, say August, loosely speaking, you understand, do you mind if I take a vacation?”

“No, Coach Boone, you only show up around the Playdowns anyway. To paraphrase Dylan, you just want to be on the side that’s winning.”

“Coach, that’s not entirely fair. I watched you work with your kids the entire afternoon practicing their putts at Milford Golf Course because you got tired of maxing your credit card at Putt Putt by teaching them how to negotiate the windmill. It was as exciting as watching paint dry teaching them how to avoid a bogey on par 5 dog leg left Shoot Through The Bazooka pin, but the cashier at Putt Putt was proud. Little victories in everything.”

“Oh, Hell, Boone, take the whole summer. If you can’t handle having to endure physical activity for long stretches at a time, take your candy ass to Wheel of Fortune for all I care. Win a trip to Bahamas and get lost.”

 

The trip to “Worst Cooks In America” is getting off to a resounding start, doncha think??? Hope Coach Boone brought his ‘A’ game.

 

How’ bout dippin’ into the ’80’s for a little Talk Talk?

Funny how the crowd observes my every move

I walk with lack of privacy at school

I wish I’d never paid 39 pennies

For the El Dorado

 

They just drool

 

I ask myself

Can I make it to a stall

 

 

It’s my badge

Don’t you forget it

It’s my badge

You touch, you’ll regret it

 

I like how timbuys mentions “just plain sad”. What other scenario can be drawn from today, especially P1? Gang, do what you want but I ain’t touchin’ P1 with a 10-foot pole. She is puttin’ on a clinic. Good arm extension, hip rotation, eye on the ball, level swing, ball poppin’ off the bat at a good angle. Guarantee it, Walt Hriniak is taking notes and he didn’t do that often.

But do we have to learn from The Joker about how to swing a bat because Batman was out in the Batmobile too long???? Yeah, it is, indeed, just plain sad when this clinic is coming from the other team. F— you, Mudlarks, and quit pullin’ your head when you swing. Correct me if I’m wrong Thorpiverse old-timers, especially from the Berrill era, but wasn’t some of the tips we’d see flashed on the screen not only educational and an added bonus, it actually came out of GIL’S MOUTH???? I know I’m not going to Tod Andrews’ Oakwood Baseball Summer Camp Junior High Division to learn how to use 2 hands and squeeze when you catch the ball.

The Philistines are teaching the Israelites how to Punt, Pass, and Kick.

 

Then there’s P2. What can ANYONE say????? It is going 180 degrees away from P1. Just about ANYTHING that’s right in P1 is wrong in P2. Players with heads up their asses, putting their own selfish agenda before what’s going on  the field. How can I mention fielding technique? I had a saying when I was coaching Babe Ruth League Baseball, “What do you tell the player who knows everything? Nothing.” In P2, rest my case.

 

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“USF Holland Semi Collides With TCFS VW Company Van!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Miraculously, no one was injured. Semi on the way to The Bucket to deliver guacamole chips.”

 

“Coach Boone is pulling the chips out of the oven-he forgot to add KC Master Bar-B-Q sauce to the recipe. You have 10 minutes on the clock, Coach.”

 

“So Coach, what are you making, if I may so ask?”

“I’m serving up a Guacamole Chicken Salad Tostada en los Frijoles Morenos y una Copa del Vino Merlot Fresco serving for 8 people. This has to be seasoned just right, especially when I lay the Grippo’s on the sheet pans.”

“Absolutely. I noticed you’re using Bar-B-Q chips. Aren’t you a little concerned that the judges might have Grippo’s breath for days?”

“Way ahead of you. I solved that problem watching ‘Trisha’s Southern Kitchen’ one night. She doused a pint of chocolate cherry liqueuer all over the Baked Chicken Gumbo, Sauteed in Nabisco Cheese Nips .I understand Trisha only needed a half a pack of Certs when she performed with Garth for a Nashville charity event.

 

If ya burned the guacamole chips and sneak out the back down to Piggly Wiggly, buy out the store of Golden Flake Cheddar ‘n’ Sour Cream Potato Chips, stick ’em in the bed of yore pick-up, lay the tarp over ’em so the judges don’t notice when they’re on a smoke break, then smuggle ’em to the cupboard on a commercial break, ironically enough Lay’s Vinegar Chips one of the sponsors, ya might be a redneck.

 

Being stalked by everyone

Green with envy

Can’t even approach the water fountain

 

Need a hall pass to Chem or French

Econ field trips are simply out

 

What a mountain

 

I ask myself

Can I buy a Twinkie from the cafeteria

 

 

 

 

 

It’s my badge

Don’t you forget it

It’s my badge

You just don’t get it

 

After coaching the linebackers for 2 strips while Gil is off another Big Adventure, Coach Boone returns for prep time.

“Okay (flush) , I put the guacamole sauce in the microwave. While that’s sizzling, I will get the chicken ready. (To himself) Goddammit, I told KFC I wanted white meat this time. (To the audience) Fortunately, I have a glass bowl ready, sitting by the Cocoa Pebbles, whattya know. I dump the chicken strips in the bowl, add a pinch of paprika, a pinch of cilantro, add a tablespoon of raspberry red, half a teaspoon of orange orange, and a quarter cup of green clovers and a half cup of yellow moons.”

“Coach, you think Lucky Charms will mix evenly in the bowl with Green Onion Grippo’s Chips.”

“I had to try something. I’ve already used Grippo’s Bar-B-Q Chips for my other secret recipe. Besides, it’s no different than making a free safety whose family is from Laos line up with the outside linebacker whose dad’s a hog farmer. They talk out their differences and BOOM BABY!!!!!!!! Next thing you know, we stop the tailback at the line of scrimmage. Friends For Life do that.”

“Just don’t forget to add Contadina Tomato Paste so the flavors don’t overwhelm. And some Lysol. The yellow moons got a little chewy when I sampled the product.”

“Thank you, judges. And I’ll add a few drops of iodine so that the acid-base reading is close to ‘7’ as possible.”

 

Then P3 is the culmination of the failed “Keep Cool with Cool Buttons” campaign. Yeah, I reckon you need to call the whole damn nation/keep the tailgate down with your glove if you don’t want another “Dewey Defeats Truman!!!!!! moment at the Mudlark Softball Complex.

Madison is just simply dancing in front of the Mudlark dugout, doing their best Travolta rendition, complete with disco ball. The spotlight is going back on the team bus with the rest of the Philistines. Lady Mudlarks, you’ve been chopped.

 

“Coach, I don’t understand. Weren’t you going to add guacamole chips to your dish?”

“NO!!!!!! Those were the appetizers to hold down the fort while I work through this. Kroger ran out of store-brand Restaurant Chips. I want this Guacamole Chicken Salad to be just right. The soy sauce clicked with the blue diamonds so CYA in that regard. But I got some Dorito’s Cool Ranch under the sink in case I gotta go to Plan B.”

 

Ooooooookkkkkkkk, Gene Rayburn is back to help skewer this plot. Take ‘er away, Gene.

“Dumb Dora was sooooooooooooo dumb  (HOW!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUMB!!!!!!!!!!!! WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) , she wore a button that said ‘Too Cool for ________________'”.

 

“Coach, you ARE aware you have 5 minutes?”

“And your point is?

“The Guacamole Chicken Salad Tostada en los Frijoles Morenos y una Copa del Vino Merlot Fresco looks a little overdone. I can see au gratin potato stains all over the green clovers. And I’ve seen better cooked chicken at Mel’s Diner. I’m not sure Alice would even eat that Waffle House in Paradise.”

“HA!!!!!!!! That’s where I’ve got you judges where I want you!!!!! I want you to THINK I’m burning the merchandise but not only am I going to marinade it now, but the slight sizzle, or overcooked as you say, will bring out all the flavors, especially all the anise. The Trix portion of the dish won’t know what hit it. Honey Nut Cheerios pieces and Kroger Restaurant Chips simmering in a cream cheese marinade sauce? Like to see Thorp do better. He can barely marinade water.”

“All right, we’ll see what happens. You’re the cook. I just hope you come through with the Chocolate S’mores and Louisiana Lightning Sauce mixture that you highly bragged about.”

 

I snuck into the dugout gate

With my Holy Grail

Locked in the gym bag, best know the combination

 

Only “All The Way With LBJ”

Stopped TCFS hardware

 

From world domination

 

 

Convince myself

Mussolini ran campaigns better

 

 

This is my badge

Don’t you forget it

This is my badge

You can’t even pet it

 

This is my badge…

 

As Gil rides off into the sunset with one of the ostriches, rumor has it thst he was at the Savannah Section of Milford Nature Area

 

“Chef Boone, congratulations, you have earned the distinction Worst Cook in America. I wouldn’t feed this concoction to starving children in China, let alone on my block. The chicken was chewier than a Nerfball, the lemon juice was overbearing with the Cocoa Puffs, and don’t even go there with the guacamole chips. I could buy better chips from a street vendor who sells chili dogs at lunch.”

“I’m just getting Lay’s Potato Chips and KFC  Breast Dark Meat and maybe the mashed taters in the pee cup that comes with the chicken. You sure you didn’t take a urine sample yourself in this slop?  I’d be drug-testing you for stupidity at my restaurant right now. How you can have the audacity to mix Chic-Lets and oregano just so you can spice up your dish is more than a travesty. And the raspberry red was undercooked. Don’t quit your day job.”

“Chef Boone, or maybe just Mr. Boone, since you can’t coach or cook. Why in the world are you using Arm & Hammer Baking Soda after you take it out of the oven? You needed to mix it in to give the chips a more even texture. your chicken was raw and the substitute Tater Tots ‘n’ Vine Ripe Tomatoes that you got from your grandfather’s recipe didn’t really replace the guacamole chips you ran out of. Ever heard of Pam? Chef Boone, you’ve been chopped, I’ll save the trouble before the commercial break.”

 

“Thank you, judges.”

 

“HUGE HUGE shout-out to the staff in 5 Core Unit of the Intensive Care Unit at University of Louisville Hospital. They have waited on me hand and foot during my stay here and have done it with a “Service with a Smile” atmosphere. It would not be fair to name names, since there were many of them and the beauty is, many would rather not be mentioned anyway. Classic unsung heroes. You factor in the Medical Team that has stayed with me patiently throughout my recovery and you have a recipe for success. I can see why my nephew, a medical doctor himself, highly recommends them. A big THANK YOU is in order to these people who make a difference in our lives.

 

Comment away, Gang. No, I’m not getting autographs from the Madison players. I won’t go that far.

 

“What can I say? I need to use more Pam and canola oil next time. I appreciate the judges’ honesty as they’re only trying to make me better. I’ve chewed out a nose guard for not wrapping a guy when he’s tackling him. It’s all in the execution.”

 

“You callin’ me a candy ass???? Shoot, you couldn’t ride an ostrich through the Picnic Area!!!!!”

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November 15, 2018

“Go Ahead. Get Rid Of This Plot.”

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PUT JIMMY CHITWOOD IN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh, that’s basketball, but still, appropriate in my view, since P3 is getting down to cases and I think I can semi-write the script the next few days. Come on along, I bet we have roughly the same hazy, inchoate ideas.

The “Hoosiers”-like scenario is gonna lead us into Xanadu, only without much pleasure, just stuck in a cave without a whole lot of players. If we’re down to few defensive backs like the caption implies, we know that our injured players are not going to return from the Emergency Room from Milford General with a Band-Aid on their arm, kissed by the nurse, and get back on the football field, pumped for action.

Therefore, Gil is Norman Dale, forced to work with a depleted or minuscule roster, only Norman did more with a town 1/10 the size of Milford, if that’s any omen (catch the hint, Thorpiverse) . And after another one goes down with malaria and another elopes with Raquel Welch, the script is going to force Gil’s hand, with the very likelihood that he’ll be confronted with whether to put in Tiki or not.

Hmmmmmmmm. Do I teach Tiki Life’s Lessons that’s says the game is bigger than you or me, therefore, as a matter of principle, I will not put you in even if Madison has 56 players and I only have one (Tiki, of course) after the other players shot their foot, took an early exit to The Bucket cuz they got The Munchies, went to their relatives for Thanksgiving, etc.?

Or do I go ahead and put you in and kick the winning field goal (just use your imagination how the ball got snapped) , hoping the 56 Madison players won’t block it and risk being called ‘unprincipled’? At least I’d have another “W” under my belt and we can warm up the buses as Dickie V. used to always say.

Whichever way Norman Dale/Ivan Boesky goes, it can’t be anymore difficult than trying to figure out WHAT is being thrown in P3. I’m going out on a limb and will say that Elroy Jetson catches those at his game (was All-Universe his junior year, his team signing a contract to play Milford in 2021) .

 

Oh, you whippersnappers know I can’t resist another Monty Python sketch. It’s in my blood

 

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Gil opens the door to his office after being interrupted on his computer, attempting to engineer an illegal download on Cannonball Adderly

“Yes?”

It’s a soddy-looking man with a huge satchel in his arms. Gil wonders how he got past the hall monitor and a bit disappointed it wasn’t a student soliciting him for advice like Gil’s been distributing for the last 60 years. Oh, well, if he tries anything funny, I have this Magnum in my back pocket I borrowed from Dirty Harry, who is on lunch break down at The Bucket.

“May I help you?”

Gil’s got his manners on his person. He’s even using good grammar. Good start.

“Hello, I’m Simon Snidely, second-cousin to Snidely Whiplash, and I just got out of Milford Detention Center a week ago. I’ve tried to go straight but the burglary itch has caught me and I have to scratch it. I promise to go level after that. Do you mind if I steal maybe a couple of trophies and some money you have in your safe by the file cabinet?”

“Oh now, wait a minute, I’ve fallen for this before and every time I do, I wind up with a set of encyclopedias. You surely saw the large print set of World Book on my cabinet the other day. The TWIMers sure as Hell did.”

“No, no, I’ve just come in to steal a few things, that’s all. That gold-plated watch you got from the President of the United States during Bicentennial week looks valuable. I could make a mint on the black market, y’know.”

“OOOOOOOOOOOOO NO!!!!!!!! I once had Pretty Boy Floyd step into my office and the next thing you know, I wound up with Encyclopedia Britannica, the 52-volume Bilingual Edition, Roget’s Thesaurus as a free gift. I couldn’t wedge that damn set between the ’81 and ’94 basketball team portraits on the wall and had to buy some TV trays at Lowes to accommodate the rest of the collection. It looked kinda funny stacking the ‘P’s in English next to all the words in Spanish that used tildes. Did you ever try to shoehorn ‘Pittsburgh’ next to ‘manana’?”

“Sir, here’s my card. Simon Snidely, Esq., Official Thief and Bank Robber. Ask anyone around. Ask Joe Friday or Dirty Harry. He’s down at The Bucket ordering a Bucket Basketball-Goal Size Chicken Wings. Ask Lizzie Borden. Ask John Dillinger.”

“DON’T EVEN BRING UP ‘DILLINGER’!!!!!!!!!!!!! He sold me some Collier’s Encyclopedia 241st Anniversary Edition. Said George Washington carried them around during the Revolutionary War and the ‘G’ got shot through at Trenton. Sez some rookie soldier mistook it for a Redcoat who was reading his Bible. Got 30 days in the brig for that. And George read them in his idle time at Valley Forge. Used his Highlighter to note the things that interested him. Then that cad told me that George personally autographed it. An expert who came into my office later on who was concerned with his son’s playing time on the JV squad agreed to look at the ‘autograph’ if Kaz would start him in the Conference Finals. Boy, was I taken. He said George never used Paper-mate but Bic. I put the whole damn set on a shelf just above the toilet in my office bathroom. Coach Shaw loves to look at the rifle section when he’s dumping a load.”

Sir, I assure you, I am just here to grab a few things without paying for them, now if you’ll excuse me, I like that 2014 Football Team Championship Composite, valuable since with your coaching, it might be a while before you win another one…”

BLAMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“And I don’t even want to discuss the time Manson tried to sell me Childcraft.”

As Gil blows smoke on his Magnum.

 

P1-“Madison at Milford and with Tiki Jansen in his birthday suit.”

P4-“As Madison is pulling away from Milford, 105-0, Gil forced to utilize his Pop Warner League players…

JANSEN!!!!!!!!!!! GO SUIT UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And doncha just love the “Fantasia” feel in  P1? Where are the hippos and the crocs dancing to Tchaikovsky’s “Nutcracker Suite” when you need ’em? Oh wait, THEY’RE HERE!!!!!!!! I think the Madison defensive back’s a hippo, not for sure, got a bad angle.

 

Gang, if you’re in Valley Station, Kentucky at Mapco, stop on in. I went in the evening and the ladies there helped me get some great Chester’s Fried Chicken. They made some great suggestions that worked out better than the menu, although the menu is GREAT too. They put in my favorite condiments and brought my order up to the front and did so with a smile. Now THAT’S service. And the food was excellent. Gang, support Small Business. You need a place where everyone knows your name.

 

One day at lunch time at The Bucket, the students and adults intermingling in their booths, a strange phenomenon is occurring but nobody can finger what it is. Some strangers have graced the joint but Dirty Harry is not paying attention, he’s too caught up in the Milford Enquirer, checking out the Mudlark football score plus Bikel & Ebert’s Movie Review (“Milford Overrun By Locusts On The Planet Of The Apes”-Bikel gave it a THUMBS UP, Ebert gave it a THUMBS DOWN-“Too smarmy, locusts looked like Barney the Dinosaur”) . One of the strangers is slurping on a Bucket Cherry Shake, medium-sized, another is in another booth, vomiting on a Bucket Livercheeseburger, a third and fourth are sharing a Bucket Blue Tortilla Chips Appetizer Bowl, a fifth is taking a piss in the men’s room, and a sixth is eating Bucket Organic Brownies and Meatless Bucket Triple Cheese Burger while reading the Milford Racing News. there are no more thugs pretending to be a Mudlark because Dirty Harry has only 6 bullets in his Magnum. But don’t put it past Thorpiverse to try.

Mildred is dumping layers and layers of mustard and gobs and gobs of pickles on Dirty Harry’s Bucket Buffalo Chicken Sandwich Deluxe. Harry’s too engrossed in the Mudlark football news as he’s disgusted that Milford gave up too much yardage against Jefferson.

“Geez, why doesn’t Gil bring back Vince Packard? He might have been loose with his gambling debts but his teams played with hair on their chests”, he befoggedly asks Mildred who adds a cherry to the pile. Harry totes his to-go order out to his squad car and gets in ready to drive off, helping Joe Friday investigate Kaz’s stolen riding mower. (Later found in his senile grandmother’s yard) . He listens to “Love me, love me, go on and love me…” on his radio, takes a bite of his sandwich and consequently spits the bite out. it is LOADED with mustard and pickles. Oh, and Honey Nut Cheerios, although the latter was a mistake, they just hired a new cook.

“All right, ya done real good with that cop, now it’s time ta quit playin’, hand over all yo’ money, jewelry, credit cards, you name it, WE WANT IT!!!!!!” as the thugs finally get up and start picking people clean. People, students and adults alike frantically go through their wallets and school bags, one student hands a thug a coupon good for the next free piece of Bucket Chess Pie, whipped cream extra. The gratified thug takes it and runs. Marty hands a thug his media credentials. The thug will be happy slaying Gil at the next football game. Mimi digs through her piggy bank and tries to come up with ANYTHING that’ll stave off the hoods when one of them say

“C’mon, Honey, you comin’ wit’ me, we gonna have a party!!!!!!!!!! as the thug grabs Mimi by the hair which she just permed at Milford Beauty Solutions. Ah, you know thugs.

Suddenly, Dirty Harry comes out of Camp Swampy next door.

The thugs all stop pillaging and size up the enemy. (“The enemy is this plot”)

Dirty Harry thanks Lieutenant Fuzz for the ride, then turns around facing the thugs.

“Every day for the last 60 years, Mildred has put 2 packets of Gulden’s Mustard and 4 Vlasic Pickle Slices on my Bucket Buffalo Chicken Sandwich Deluxe.

Today, she put 1,876 packets worth of mustard and pickles running all over the sandwich, some had children which a few of those went on to MIT and Stanford, some got their GED’s, some had in-laws, some in-bred, some had illegitimate pickles, some ended up in my Bucket Triple Chocolate Shake. Did you ever try to suck a pickle throiugh a straw? Or an onion? I thought Mildred dropped one of croutons in my shake again.

Now you boys put those guns down and let’s head down to Milford Detention Center.”

“Say what, suckuh?” says Thug #1, holding Mimi an Uzi at Mimi’s head. Mimi is worried the perm will frizz out if the thug pulls the trigger. And Gil is in Oakwood for the Annual Conference Pre-Season Basketball Luncheon and he’s the keynote speaker (“…I always run a box-and-one on the Celtics, you can’t hold down Larry Bird, you can only contain him…”) .

“Well. You boys didn’t think we were just gonna let you walk out of this plot, did you?”

“Who’s ‘we’, suckuh?” as the other thugs are filching the car hops’ tips.

“Me and Smith & Wesson” as Dirty Harry pulls out his spare Magnum, the other, as mentioned, loaned to Gil.

BLAAAAMMMMMMMMMM

Thug #1 goes down, letting go of Mimi, who ducks under a table with Steve Luhm.

Thug #2 tries to run out the door with somebody’s wallet and Thug #2’s carry-out order of Bucket o’ Egg Plants ‘n’ Nutter Butter Peanut Butter Sandwich Cookies (thugs get hungry too and eat at The Bucket) .

BLAAAMMMMMMMMMMMM

Thug # 2 goes down right before he hits the door, glass all over the Bucket o’ Egg Plants (delicacy on some planet, I reckon) .

“COME ON GUYS, LET’S DITCH THIS PLOTLINE!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“You forgot your fortune cookie and Bucket Double Cheese Burger Combo.”

“WHATTTTTTTTTT!!!!!?????????”

BLAMMMMMMMMMMMMMM    as the Bucket Chili Fries from the Combo land in Dr. Pearl’s beehive while she takes cover under a table. Thug #3 splays on a booth and crushes a student’s Bucket Banana Split.

Thug #4 and Thug #5 get on the tandem bike and pedal towards the emergency exit, careful not to spill their Mudlar-K-Cola, nudged in the cup-holder of the bike, the grocery sack of stolen cash and credit cards strapped to the back.

Dirty Harry is up to the task. He gets a slight bit of indigestion from all the grease in the Chili Fries and BLLAAAAAAAMMMMMMMM’s awry but not a second time.

BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMMMM

Dirty Harry rings true, giving credibility to the Single Bullet Theory, shooting through both of them and they go down like bowling pins, lifeless.

Ms. Rizk, her first time out of her Journalism office since the Gay ’90’s due to a date with Luhm, shouts

THE PLOT IS COMING BACK TO LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

BLAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

 

Finally, Thug #6 is on the ground in obvious pain cuz the cook fried his Bucket Pork Tenderloin in a Sea of Bucket Mayo and has the stomach cramps big-time. He spots a sawed-off shotgun left by one of the dead gunmen, just under The Bucket Hall of Fame Employee banner.

“Uh uh uh.” pointing Magnum at Thug # 6.

“I know what you’re thinking. But this is a Magnum, the most powerful weapon in the world and it can blow your head clean off.

Now in all this excitement, which is more than I can say for the Mudlark’s football-playing, I kinda lost count. Was it ‘5’ or was it ‘6’? Do you feel lucky, punk?”

Thug #6 takes one more look at sawed-off shotgun, farting a wad in the process from the sandwich. The stench probably tips the scale on his decision.

“Well, do you?”

Thug #6, not willing to find out if it’s the lady or the tiger, withdraws his hand. Marty grabs shotgun, tempted to use it on his boss at WDIG, but hands over to the Milford Police.

“Hey”

Dirty Harry turns around.

“I gotst to know. Is this plot gonna end?”

Harry obliges.

Click

Thug # 6 uses some unChristian vocabulary, getting the answer to both.

 

Gang, Have at it. I’ll be helping the distraught and do my part to bring some order, Marty DID come out of Mimi’s beehive, satisfied it WAS 6.

 

“Sir, I don’t mind stealing your grandfather’s Gold Medal he won at the 1912 Olympics but you absolutely must see this Peanuts ‘cyclopedia set. Doesn’t Pig Pen look nice promoting Vatican City?”

“Oh, brother, I should have known.”

 

Marty points Magnum at his boss at WDIG as retaliation for the other day.

“Go ahead. Make my day.”

June 18, 2018

Taking It Out On Madison

Filed under: Gil Thorp, Madison Time, Marjie Ducey, metapost — nedryerson @ 6:10 am

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Don’t you just love it when the first panel on Monday morning basically repeats the the narrative of the last panel on Saturday? It’s okay. There’s lots of weekend in between, we’ve got plenty of space to tell the story and we need another gorgeous Pelwecki close-up. Those flowing locks, those Sharpied eyebrows, that generic blandness. It’s a gift, really.

Now that we’ve established Kevin’s propensity for asking a stupid question, it’s time for Gil to shine with a snappy answer (shout out to Mad magazine).

Kevin, your limited skill set has very low market value. If you can perform at a high level in other ways, I’ve yet to see it. Also, you’re just wandering around in school in a baseball uniform and that seems like a red flag. Madison? Oh yeah, it’s almost Madison time!

What was I just saying about how much space we have to tell this story? Sorry, no room for any actual Madison time*. Just time for a post game wrap up with Marjie. Do we know Marjie’s height? If Kevin is barely taller than Marjie and she’s anything under six feet, there’s yet another knock on Pelwecki’s recruiting appeal.

*On TWIM, there’s always room for Madison time. Also, in yet another attempt to show that we care just a little bit, I created a Madison Time tag and applied it retrospectively.

Wham!
 

 

January 30, 2017

Milford Falls

Filed under: actual action, basketball, Madison Time, Prairie Style Windows — nedryerson @ 4:25 am

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I’m returning from a week away and just caught up on all the action. Ken and Mike, boy detectives, went to the Kwik E Mart and Mrs. Aagard is dragging ass, or something like that, right?

So, it is Madison time* and Aagard is on the court for the final seconds. Coach Thorp wants the ball in Aaron’s hands. Why? Your guess is as good as mine. This must be part of Gil’s inquiry into the Aagard conundrum. The buzzer sounds. Another loss for the record book. Does Gil need to talk to Aaron again? He’s gonna be tuckered out before winter is over.

*Sure, it’s over, but how could I resist? This one has no helpful narrator to tell you what to do, but you all know the moves by now, right?

November 17, 2016

Marty Prays For A Toad-Strangler

Filed under: Coach Kaz, Gil Thorp, Madison Time, Marty Moon, Where is Milford? — nedryerson @ 4:58 am

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This is about as cutting a remark as we can hope for from Marty Moon, even though technically a heavy rain storm wouldn’t end the game early unless there’s some byzantine rules in the Valley Conference about weather conditions coupled with blowout scores. Note that Marty uses the colloquial term “gully washer”. Here’s an interesting look at some other regional variations (see “a heavy rain”). I didn’t quite find the definitive guide to the abbreviations used by that site, but if I’m reading that right, the term gully washer is in widespread use, excluding New England. Is this a clue to the location of Milford? Are we so deep in the weeds of this story line that things like this are commanding my attention? What if Marty had prayed for a turd-floater?

Moving beyond Regional English and Geography, we’ve got an awkward handshake with Tilden’s coach. It looks like Chris is really admiring Gil’s knuckles. Then Gil promises his team they’ll figure out what went wrong. That sounds like some sort of coaching. Good luck, Gil. At least we can look forward to Madison Time. If you want to practice, here’s a tutorial.

February 13, 2016

Now It’s My Turn to Post “It’s Madison Time!”

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Hooper action! Maxwell Bacon goes all Pistol Pete on some unfortunate Madisonian en route to (I assume) victory! Note those championship banners on the Madison gym wall; don’t think Milford has any of those. Of course, they could be for intramural spelling bee championships but whatevs.

Someone refresh my memory as to which generic blond boy is fist pumping in the foreground of P2?  Ken Brown is either double fist pumping or looking for a fight. Hasn’t the sports world moved on from fist pumping anyway? Everyone was dabbing until last Sunday night, so maybe they’ve reverted back to fist pumping until the next celebratory fad comes along.

Speaking of postgame celebrations, the MaxKenzie lovefest and culinary tour of Milford is moving on to The Bucket shortly. Schultz’s Polynesian Garden can’t be far behind. I expect Bacon will soon be get a locker room ribbing over his thing with the most muscular girl in school, while apparently no one has yet let on to Kenzie that her beau was only one short year ago a skinny dweeb addicted to placebos.

Never mind all that – it’s not just the weekend, it’s Madison time!

November 16, 2015

Why Couldn’t You Tell A Brother?

Filed under: actual action, football, Gil Thorp, Madison Time, Marty Moon, Prairie Style Windows — nedryerson @ 4:36 am

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Oh no! It looks like Dory’s pitch meeting with Alan Mayne is having far reaching repercussions! Benching! Moon being Moon! Sacking! That’s right, actual football action is happening right there in Panel 3.

Gee, I wonder if Art Standish is miffed about True’s left tackle riding the pines while his son gets blindsided (sort of). We haven’t got time for all that, because…

it’s Madison Time (now with Maynard G. Krebs):

February 4, 2012

Let’s Eat Carrots Together?

Oh! My! God! this storyline is so crap. I hate Parker Bowen. The insanity (or inanity?) of the tattoo/bootleg DVD joint is not paying off. So in lieu of trying to come up with more dumb jokes, here are some video selections “inspired by” these insipid strips.

2/2/12

It’s Madison time!:

2/3/12

Who cares. I don’t care. A horse’s ass is better than yours.

2/4/12

Circus boy. Happy nightmares, everybody!

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