“Go Ahead. Get Rid Of This Plot.”

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.”

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Thanks, Marty, I Can Start My Own Matchbox Collection Again.

As fellow TWIMer Vaganova noted about a couple of items that qualified for Pantheon of Mysterious Objects (and, boy, THEY QUALIFIED) , I am weighing in with my own contribution, namely from P1 that’ll get any kid filled with glee. That  Matchbox sedan with custom chrome wheels and vinyl bucket seats and a steering wheel (and a microcosmic  daredevil Evel Knievel in the driver’s seat) could pass for a microphone in any country. I bet Maxwell Smart has a couple in his pocket when battling KAOS.

 

All righty then, so NOW we know that the mystery interviewer yesterday wasn’t Donna Reed’s husband. I know he had a bit of a sardonic twinge to him but nothing like Moon Man himself. And it’s good to have him back needling Coach Thorp about his (loosely speaking)  game strategy, among other things. For 60 years, death, taxes, mutant poplar trees in the background, and Marty’s rapier wit were part of the inductive reasoning process, sure, like the sun rising in the west after 1,000,000 times of doing the opposite, you might see something different (maybe mutant elms) but then again, Nancy and Sluggo might be put up for adoption.

 

And it’s PRETTY DARN SAD when Marty’s caustic side show is now the main attraction. Folks, when I go to the circus, I watch the elephants, not the flunkies shoveling their droppings after they got the audience clapping with approval when . Dumbo sat on his hind legs, begging for a Milk Bone (“Sit, Dumbo, Sit”) . You old-timers remember The Family Circus when they would show their one panel in the Sunday paper but on the side, evidently Bil Keane, the artist (God Bless You, My Man, kept us kids entertained for eons, Jeffy, (Bil’s son, now the artist), keep the tradition alive) , allowed his kids to create some cartoons to the side of the panel and they were entertaining because the little panels made a pun which was published below the little vignette? I always got a kick out them but carrying this to a faltering plotline is infusing a dead horse with unnecessary nutriments. Shoot Mr. Ed, Marty and Gil. Thrust and Parry for this travesty is like watching Jerry Lawler and the Moon Dogs battle it out at the Memphis Coliseum for what’s inside the Trix box.

 

Mimi reading the Sunday Comix in The Milford Enquirer

“Marty Moon and Gil”

Above the caption, a kid named Marty is displaying his butt to all the piranhas in the family aquarium

“Mommy, what happened to The Family Circus? It’s all smudgy and yucky.”

 

 

While I was reading “Parade” in the Milford Sunday Enquirer, I ran across an ad for hearing aids which claimed that loss of hearing leads to Alzheimer’s Disease.

Hmmmmmmmmmmm

Okay, I’ve solved one problem (beat the Hardy Boys at their own game-YESSSSSSSSS!!!!) . Gil’s inept coaching can be solved by upgrading his Beltone. And Mimi will know what to stuff in the stocking at Christmas.

“Boy, what a holiday, Mimi. Apples, candy canes, peppermints, sugar plums, Reese’s 6-Pak Mimi’s, Oreos, Fritos Chili Chips, slice of fruit cake and hearing aids. ’tis the Season.

Now onward to solve another problem and FINALLY capture the Holy Grail.

“Mimi, do you think the kids wrapped my hearing aid in those ties with the Mudlark logo on them?”

“I don’t know”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Oops, I was watching the Monty Python Marathon. Hope they can yank Mimi out of the fireplace. Anyhoo

Great Grandma Maltilda Eleazar Naomi Thorp comes to visit Gil & family.

“Gil, she is an interesting person. And she’s holding up well for 137-years old.”

“Yup, she and Ms. Rizk and Granny from the Beverly Hillbillies were all on the cheerleading squad at the same high school and were in the same graduating class.”

“But I’m a little worried. She got pulled over for a DUI last week in her 1897 Camaro. She also almost drank out of the Glidden Vanilla White paint can, thinking it was milk. Then she backed into the verandah and that’s going to take a month to repair.”

“I understand. We’ll just have to have our meaningless tete-a-tetes at the Milford Lounge until I can get an estimate from Milford Deck & Patio Furnishments. We can put up with the sand volleyball tournaments until then. The Thanksgiving Macy’s Day Parade Double-Elimination Extravaganza will evaporate before you know it and we can talk about your basketball team without a hitch. We can manage a discussion about your 5-game schedule above the juke box, no problem.”

“But how do we solve a problem like Great-Grandma Thorp?”

 

“Good question. I had no answer. Kinda how my coaching’s gone for 60 years. But this was serious.

Sure, I paid the bail. No fun sharing a cell with O.J. or Charles Manson or Sweeney Todd. And that’s I took it as an omen to take charge of her hearing..

At Milford Hearing’s All We Do, they have a wide selection of hearing aids designed to deal with an assortment of problems, from tone-deaf so that you don’t get swept in a nuclear fallout while your hearing aid is in your purse to the ones who just need a boost in their audio functions.

Now, my great-grandmother is living life to the fullest, thanks to the good people at Milford Hearing’s All We Do. We didn’t have to reconsolidate our debt and Granny called the other Granny to have lunch at Granny’s Beverly Hillbilly mansion with Jed and Elly May (Jethro had National Guard duty) . They were planning on reminiscing about their high school days and Granny was even going to share with Granny the photo of them posing with President McKinley before a high school basketball game  when they were cheerleaders. Her hearing sounds fine to me. Priceless.”

 

WHO SHOT COACH SHAW?

At the local precinct, next to the Milford Grand Canyon

“We can rule out Mildred Thorp, Gil’s great-grandmother. Several eyewitnesses saw her at the William Jennings Bryan convention.”

“Who’s he?”

“No idea. As long as he ain’t in Hilary’s Commie party, I’m good.”

“Yeah? Well, Trump  stuck his foot in his mouth again, called us the Mudlacks and Gil is upset. And I still say he’s guttin’ our health insurance…”

 

At The Bucket on a Saturday night after a Milford High School victory in ANY sport

Great-Grandma Thorp is on the soda fountain counter, doing The Charleston to James Brown’s “Get Up, I Feel Like Being a Sex Machine.”

Poetry in motion

The O’Jays “For The Love of Money” is on the jukebox

“Geez, how she can do the Fox Trot on the grill while the cook is flippin’ Bucket Burgers is a minor miracle.”

“Agreed. Her hearing aid is as big as a tuba but she’s rockin’ the night away. Can’t wait till they play ‘I Wonder Why He’s The Greatest Dancer’. I heard she boogies better than Donna Summer.”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Reba McIntire Engaged At 63 To O.J.!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Negotiating team making progress on monitoring O.J. while out of jail on their honeymoon.”

 

 

PLAY THAT FUNKY MUSIC WHITE BOY

PLAY THAT FUNKY MUSIC RIGHT

 

“Grandma, I gotta sit down. I only slept 4 hours cuz I was searching all night for a punter.”

“HORSE FEATHERS!!!!!!!!! You whippersnapper, if I can whip this French horn in my head and do the splits at the same time without ripping my Depends, then you still got some air in the tank!!!!!! Now trip the light fantastic!!!!!!!!!”

 

 

It’s nice to see Gil went to Floyd the Barber to get a haircut. I didn’t know Floyd was adept at usin’ the scissors to shape a Max Headroom mien. But Floyd, I think you’re stretching things if you try this same shearing method on Barney Fife or Otis the Drunk. You gonna go to his cell while O.J. is sleeping and make an attempt? Good luck.

“Oh, Barney, don’t get discouraged. It takes a while for Thelma Lou to get used to radical ideas. I think your hair looks fine. It still within the Mayberry City Code.”

 

Shout out to Lisa Kik, of Prospect, Kentucky, for her 1st Place championship in Special Olympics Bowling. I would also like to remember her father, her grandfather, and grandmother who encouraged her mightily along the way to achievements like this. That’s what it’s all about. It takes a team to win and no better example than right here. Lisa, keep plugging away as you represent America and what it can accomplish if you keep trying. Congratulations, Lisa.

 

In the center of the floor at The Bucket, a Donald Duck voice is eminent

“…Aw, get down, Mama, ya got some moooovvveesss…”

DISCO

DISCO DUCK!!!!

DISCO

DISCO DUCK!!!!

“Gil, I’m amazed at your great-grandma’s imitations. Loved her take on Ronald Reagan.

Somebody yelling “Giddy-up, Grandma, Giddy-up!!!!!!!!!!!” and “Way to jack that hearing aid to turbocharge, Granny!!!!!!!!!!” awakens Gil.

“Huh, what? Oh yeah, Reagan was a great president.”

“Oh, Gil, phooey. You missed the part where they had to send her to the Time-Out Table. She was displaying her Depends while they were playing ‘You Show Me Yours (And I’ll Show You Mine)’ The place was en fuego.”

Thanks to Cheryl Hogan of Louisville, Kentucky for her contribution to the last scenario. Keep livin’, Cheryl. We need you.

 

And just when we were getting settled into a plot of SOME kind, P3 is potentially veering off in ANOTHER DIRECTION. Thorpiverse, there are only 4 points on the compass. We’re not utilizing the 3-dimension Vulcan plan and hoping we land on Deneb somewhere to establish diplomatic relations with its people. Can we leave Dr. Spock out of Milford, for cryin’ out loud? Enough directions in this plot already.

Sure, Coach Stuard (RIP, Coach, you were a HUGE influence on my playing and coaching) used to teach me “Never let ’em see you sweat”, something Gil is saying in P2 and with good reason. And it appears as if we are rapidly approaching normalcy. P3, with Mr. T and his teammmates in a quandary over whether Tiki is on Mars, on a milk carton, or in the bathroom puking out the stress, sends normalcy back on the USS Enterprise for Dr. McCoy to examine. This might be a trekkie mini-series at the rate we’re going.

 

While Great-Grandmother Thorp is performing live with Dino and Frankie, pursuing the Oldies-but-Goldies route, with Killers (trust me) lie “Everybody Loves Somebody Sometime”, “New York, New York”, “In The Wee Small Hours”, “Tuxedo Junction”, “Strangers in the Night”, etc. at The Sands in Milford, Coach Thorp is encountering a bit of a problem.

“$&%@+*/=<>, this machine doesn’t want to spit out anything!!!!!!!!!”

“Gil, you can’t win ’em all.The slot machines will pay off in the long run.”

“Mimi, I’m trying to get M & M’s out of this @%$&*(+=#$% gumball machine!!!!!!!!! That’s the 8th quarter!!!!!!!! Got any more in your purse???????”

 

Gang, it’s all yours. I’m going with the A-Team to look for Tiki. Did anybody check that high school building at the beginning of Funky Winkerbean?

 

“Couple #3, Coach Shaw and Mrs. Coach Shaw, what animal will your wife say best imitates your sexual desire? Is it A) Gorilla B) Donkey C) Raccoon or D) Whale. Coach?

“Most definitely, a gorilla. I go to bed like Tarzan and I am KING OF THE JUNGLE!!!!!!!!! All the other animals in the jungle and in the bedroom are afraid of me!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Well, Tarzan, I hate to break it to you but she answered ‘Whale'”

“Honey, you have a big body, you splash around a lot under the covers, and you smash all the fishies and all my hot flashes with a big SPLAT!!!!!!!!!!! But you never get to the bottom of the ocean!!!!!!!”

“No way you can get to the buried treasure if you don’t dive, Coach Shaw.”

Audience roars with laughter at Eubanks’ last gem. On cue, naturally.

THANK YOU to Matthew Maloney, of Fern Creek, Kentucky, for help with the last comedy idea. Keep chuggin’ at Kroger, Big Guy. You’re not only funny, you keep America working. And strong.

 

Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“Mildred Thorp Welcomed Into Rat Pack!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Peter Lawford out after fallout with Frankie.”

Andre Ruffin Vaporized By UFO (If Only)

Milford won its first road game of the season! Mike Filion had a big night! Punting (or long snapping) didn’t appear to be an issue, so I guess that plot point is behind us.

Some knuckleheaded Mudlark threw his helmet in the air in celebration of the victory. Were there any resulting concussions? Did we have a story about concussions once? Nobody remembers. Probably because we’ve been collectively beaten over the head so many times by these plots.

We’re stalled on the snooping behavior of Andre and Joe, so let’s trot out an old standard: Marty Moon asks a dickish, leading question of Gil. Ouch! What did I tell you about hitting us over the head, Gil Thorp?! Tune in tomorrow for Gil’s snarktastic retort.

Interestingly (no, no really) Marty doesn’t get an opportunity to interview Gil immediately after the much ballyhooed victory, but rather has to catch Gil at a subsequent practice during a stretching session. Wait, is that Marty? I’m just assuming because of the dumb question. Yeah, it’s gotta be Marty. Nobody else besides Marjie cares. Nobody.

To shake off the boredom, let’s get into the wayback machine for a video. This had some HEAVY rotation in the early days of MTV:

Wow, I haven’t listened to that for ages and I have to say, that song’s kinda weak. I guess it’s mostly because it seems to drag on for about a minute and a half more than it needs to.

Milford @ Jefferson: Haiku

The Jeffs are wearing

Helmets that look like Dartmouth’s

Or pencil sharpeners

 

Another team dressed in

White at home, like the Cowboys

Or Bayou Bengals

 

When did the players

Stop wearing wristbands and switch

Over to Fitbits?

 

Tiki Jansen won’t

Be getting torched on this play

Saw that pun coming

 

But wait, he’s been flagged

For making a reacharound

Not in the shower

 

Marty Moon cannot

Believe his eyes; dancing ice cubes

In front of floodlights

 

That’s liquor talking

It’s just some good old lens flare

Lay off the rotgut

 

 

Ooooooooooo, This Has Already Gotten Messy

“This football is afflicted with boils, warts, and the bubonic plague. Oh, and zits. I ask everyone in the congregation and you out there in TV Land to pray along with me and all my other zebras in Christ. Lord, I lay hands on this pigskin and cast out all diseases and afflictions in the name of Jesus. Help this football rise up and walk and receive a double portion of your Spirit. We know that Beelzebub has tormented him throughout the game and Satan, we order you in the name of Jesus to release your grip so that others may grip it, either to look it in the tuck for that 89-yard TD reception or when the Milford Mudlark or Jefferson Jets (Hell, I don’t know their nickname, Thorpiverse didn’t brief me ahead of time ) score the winning TD because the RB didn’t fumble it because of Godly stronghold on the ball. We lay hands in Jesus’ Name. Amen.”

“We know who you are, you are the Son of God!!!!!!”

HOLD THY PEACE AND COME OUT OF HIM!!!!!!!!!!

Legions and legions and legions of demons come out of the football and head toward the trees behind Gil’s office. Small wonder they’re so deformed. Pizuzu must be possessing the poplars on top of the elm tree and mulberry bushes.

“Good as new, Coach Thorp.”

“Thanks, Jesus.”

 

So at this juncture we’ve negotiated a slightly bizarre twist in the scheme of things.

We NOW have a punter kicking for the team, although we had to tread through Siskel & Ebert reruns to garner the position player. Oh, but wait (to quote my favorite group, Emerson, Lake, & Palmer ) , not content with that, with our hands behind our backs, give it the old college try and develop a legitimate storyline that could be a heart-warming Disney feature, sandwiched between “The Jungle Book” and “Son of Flubber”.

Kinda sorta like “Angels in the Outfield”. Kid hates football, Hard-Luck Loser Coach (not naming any names like, say, Gil or Kaz or maybe Roy Gillen) convinces him to go out for the team, baiting him with a lifetime supply of M & M’s, the Mars Candy truck dumping the wares in the kid’s driveway every week, Marty Moon morphs into another Ranch Wilder and broadcasts on WDIG, after returning from his suspension, natch (gotta have a little controversy so the Disney plot doesn’t get syrupy like a runny Aunt Jemima bottle all over the kitchen counter) , that his dad point-shaved his high school football game, Dad comes along for a press conference in the Milford gym and clears the record, reveling when he was in middle school that he received a $1000 scholarship to Alabama to play for Bear Bryant from the opposing principal if he would throw an interception in lieu of the winning TD (Hey, this is Disney, plots don’t gotta be airtight) , Dad merely gets a paddling after the truth is solidified, everybody hugs and kisses in a heterosexual way (this is G-rated, bear in mind) , even Marty and Peaches gets caught up in the feel-good atmosphere and speed off to Mudlark Lake Resort in Marty’s Rolls-Royce, kid kicks winning FG after Hard-Luck Loser Coach tells the kid a la FDR that this day will be a Day of Infamy if he chokes, game over.

Oh, no, no, no.

Nope, we gotta chase down another rabbit after we damn near blow out Bugs Bunny’s brains. Cheez, no wonder why Elmer Fudd never killed ANY animal, let alone Bugs.

Daffy Duck is sleeping in the pond about to get a wet dream over Daisy Duck.

EF is about to hit the jackpot.

“Hey, I say, hey, look at that elephant running away over yonder.”

“Wealwee? Where’d it go?”

“It’s runnin’ down that path there, leadin’ to the back door of Milford Iron Kitchen. Ya better git it or it’s gonna be on the buffet table tonight. BTW, he goes by the name of Dumbo. He’s an old rogue I went to high school with and we were teammates on the football team. I was the field goal kicker and he was the star running back. But he’s lost his speed. Kinda like Kareem when he was with the Lakers.”

“Hey, wait a minute, YOU’RE AN ANIMAL!!!!!!!!!” about to cock his gun.

“Now hold on there, Fuddy-Duddy, My Man. If you shoot me, there’ll be, I say, there’ll be no one ta guard the chickens. And then Mr. Green Jeans, my boss, will be up your, I say, up your ass in alligators with The Shark cuz yore gun ain’t registered . I can see the Kohl’s price tag on the barrel.”

Fuddy-Duddy lowers the gun.

“Besides, isn’t Dumbo a lot tastier? And you’d have his head to mount on your wall once ya done fileted him. Better ‘n’ that anteater mug that Gil has staged in his den.

Fuddy-Duddy turns around.

“Shhhhhhhh, be vewy, vewy quiet. I’m hunting Dumbos. HAHAHAHAHA…..”

 

BIG BIG shout-out to Albert Carr of Louisville, Kentucky. When he was stricken with high-blood pressure that caused him to collapse, injuring his neck and dental work, he was told he might not survive.

BUT NOW, he has not only surviving but is THRIVING, going to the Rehab Center once a week and living a full life. He is close to walking again, able to walk a few steps, such as taking a trip to the kitchen, for example, and he exercises, performing different hand and finger exercises, not to mention getting on the bike and workin’ those legs. Gang, I think he has decided to GET BUSY LIVIN’. If you see Albert Carr in your neck of the woods, treat him with respect. HE’S EARNED IT!!!!!!!!!!

 

And JUST WHEN WE WERE HOPING THAT WE’D GET TO SOME FOOTBALL (y’know, oval shape, made from hog intestines, the ones you throw for the Flutie Miracle or the one you recover for a fumble at The Miracle at the Meadowlands or Franco Harris returned for a miraculous TD when it bounced off Gil’s hairdo, Kaz’s earring, Marty’s butt, and Tiki’s sister) , we’re given 1/3 of the output. Thorpuverse, let me spell this one out.

A referee with crackless pants (we’re assuming, the jury’s still out since we’re stuck with a side shot and can posit nothing positive) that he bought from Rural King, Marty sipping from his Ensure Rockin’ Raspberry while keeping his potty mouth in check (again assuming) , and a Jefferson punt returner (see the other two bracketed comments) doing the Charleston IS REALLY NOT FOOTBALL. I could transmogrify this in the middle of a L’il Lotta comic book and I’m wondering how many people I could dupe.

“I’ll show you, you fat-mouthed piece of horse-dung bully that you can’t beat up my dad when he’s coming home from the factory after 4 hours of over-Sorry, Coach, next time I’ll use the Port-o-Let behind Team Bus #12. I still didn’t fumble it and you have to admit my fair catch signal would have won an Oscar.” “Very valiant to admit that you let the team down when you didn’t address your bladder problems in a timely fashion. But we have excellent field position so no harm-I’m sorry, L’il Lotta, L’il Dot can’t come out to play. She’s in bed with the mumps after too much Livercheese ‘n’ Fries at The Bucket. She can’t even chew on a Bucket Slushee Icee Mocha ‘n’ Melon. Have you tried Richie Rich? I heard he got another $100,000,000 and he didn’t even have to call 1-FON-TH-Hey, George, didn’t you  read the Point of Emphasis in the rule book this year? The committee was coming down hard on derrieres in the open field. You might get a Letter of Reprimand-and the next time you try to shove a Twinkie up my dad’s butt or his uneaten BLT for that matter, you scumbagloserwormeatingtoadswallowingRichieRichstoogeflunky, I’ll stick your face in Marty Moon’s cup and you’ll know first-hand what Ensure High Life tastes-Burn, baby, burn/Disco Inferno/ Burn, baby, burn/Burn this mother down…”

Well, I think you get my point. No sense in saying that the Jefferson Fair Catch Caller was not doing any Texas Two-Step with himself or that Richie Rich bought into a share of The Milford Enquirer. Let bygones be bygones.

 

 

“If your farm animals have been injured in an accident, call The Shark today at 1-FON-THE-JAWS. Get the money you deserve.”

Mr. Green Jeans: “My chick-a-dees were attacked by a Rottweiler after the hunter was out in the Milford Fish & Wildlife area hunting moose. The Rottweiler was documented as being dyslyexic. (Holds up 100^100=Googol check) . Thank you, Shark.”

Farmer in the Dell: “My lead rooster, Foghorn Leghorn, was shot up several times after Elmer Fudd missed Dumbo. Found out later on that Elmer Fudd didn’t have his Winchester legally registered.  Mr. Leghorn survived after Garfield fed him several bowls of lasagna. And I received this (Check worth a generous Powerball ticket from the Milford Lottery) . Thanks, Shark.”

Insurance companies are working hard to protect their losses. Don’t let them clean you out of house and barn. If Mr. Ed gets herpes because the FedEx man failed to properly seal the hay, call The Shark today. Easy to remember, 1-FON-THE-JAWS. One call, that’s all.

 

No, really, Alanis Morissette is helping me to bring sanity to this plot. Or I’d go insane. Alanis, you rock like you have for eons. Let ‘er rip.

 

If it wasn’t for your immaturity/none of this would have happened

If you’d watched movies with a logical sequence/we might have a decent storyline

I know you like to ramble/and steer this concept ’til it gets too goofy

Just get it to basketball/and I doubt anyone will do any snooping

 

Ooooooooo, this could get messy

But you evidently don’t seem to mind

Ooooooooo, don’t go tellin’ everybody

And tell Gil and Kaz about this supposed crime

 

We’ll fast-forward to some two months later

No one knows save the readership

And I have tried to honor the demands for reason

And you’ve washed your hands of this shit

 

 

A passenger is holding his nose.

“Ooooooooooooeeeeeeeee!!!! Marty, you need to take this buggy through the Milford Soak ‘n’ Suds. How many skunks did you run over on the way to the County Fair?”

Later, that evening

“Peaches, I told you bathing the mini-bus in Febreze on my lunch break was a horrible idea!!!!!!!!!!!! And I still itch on top of that!!!!!!!!! I’ll never take another shortcut through the Milford Wildlife Plot between Milford Wal-Mart and Milford Target!!!!!!

Thanks to Cyndi Smith from Louisville, Kentucky for helping me with the comedy idea. You make the place a better place to live. You’ve overcome a lot to get to where you are. You have a great sense of humor and you treat people with TONS of respect. Treat HER with respect, gang. She’s earned it.

 

I like how you depend on me/to kick the ball and not forfeit away a win

I’m happy how you sexualize me/I’m the boss and say it with a Cheshire Grin

One day Gil will shout he owes it all to me/and award me half his teacher retirement

If I keep a firm body and watch that weight/I can be a supple Milford fireman

 

Ooooooooooo, this could get sucky

But youuuuuu don’t seem to mind

Ooooooooooo, don’t go tellin’ everybody

And slip a news tip to Marty about this supposed crime

 

We’ll fast-forward to a few months later

And we’ll plop into girls basketball

And I have tried to honor pleas for common sense

And you’ve washed your hands of this folderol

 

Gene, ya gotta help us. Please tell us Match Game 2018 is here to the rescue from all this malarkey.

Dumb Dora was SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO dumb (HOW   DUMB   WAS  SHE???????), She thought a Fair Catch was when a football player grabbed his ______________ when he celebrated the winning TD catch.

 

Take ‘er away, gang. I’m going to the Milford Dance Studio to learn Polka/Disco step the Fair Catch dude is executing in P3. By the time they’re done with me, I’ll be at Studio 54 a la John Travolta tripping the night fantastic to a “Saturday Night Fever” melange,  accompanied by an accordion. Sexy.

 

THE GRAND FINALE

Tiki, Tiki’s sister, Joe, his nameless friends who tag along like Lassie pursuing Timmy, ALL accompanying Alanis on the refrain

WE’LL FAST FORWARD TO THIS BALLGAME NEXT DAY

AND I AM DOUBTING THINGS WILL CHANGE THAT MUCH

AND I HAVE HONORED CRIES FOR OUTRIGHT SANITY

AND YOU’VE WASHED YOUR HANDS FROM GIL’S CRUD

Milford is up Shit Creek

First of all – sorry for my delinquincy yesterday– combination of busy day and lack of motivation to do this storyline.. but I’m back today so here goes.

So here’s what we have so far:

1. Tiki Jansen transfered from another school, played cornerback the first game, and is now the new safety, replacing ..?
2. Sam Finn is the best punter but they cant find another long snapper so he’s it.
3. Freddy Malouf was the punter the first game and is out, replaced by #4.
4.  Mike Filion, who is also the starting QB and will give punting a try.
5.  Joe Bolek, former competent punter somewhere who doesnt want to play but may try.

And we’re only in Week 2!!

So we may possibly have 3 different guys punt in 3 games, if Fillion is bad and Bolek suits up next week. And Punter # 4 would be Finn in Week 4; at this rate the game would be in November.

Anyone else roaming the hallways they can ask? Good God almighty. Its so laughable it makes me cry. They might as well put a huge sign on the wall:

WANTED: PUNTER> NO EXPERIENCE NECESSARY. APPLY ANYWHERE OUTSIDE A CLASSROOM. DEADLINE: CHRISMAS.

Holy crap.

All this time Finn is the guy to do it but the dildos cant find another long snapper! Jesus, have the damn regular center snap during practice and you’re good to go. How much time are we gonna spend on this assinine situation? What the hell are they doing during practice? We already broached the idea of a soccer player helping out but its fallen on deaf ears. 3 morons sit in front of a computer and marvel at the new ‘software’ but they dont have a damn brain between them!

I’m figuring the final answer is, yep, Tiki Jansen. But god the taffy pull to get to it. 5 punters in 1 season! And they have so many other issues besides this one. If theyre anywhere near a solid team, the punter wouldnt matter much anyway.

To the strip: Love how Jansen the new safety is playing 50 yards behind everyone else. I guess Gil said defend the goal line no matter where everyone else is. Doh.

Another idea if Fillion is half decent at punting is trying a quick kick from the regular formation once in a while when theyre in 3rd and very long. But no way do they think of that one. It actually works most of the time because nobodys back that far on defense for the kick if theyre playing a normal dime.

I’m going out on a limb and saying Milford will have more punters then victories this year. Any takers?

 

 

 

Creatively Blocked

It’s fun to dump on Marty Moon. His sippy cup is full of bottom shelf vermouth. He’s sealed up in a crate, imagining that the cockroaches crawling around him are playing football. His headset is assembled from odds and ends scrounged from the kitchenware area of Goodwill. His lifetime batting average of successful sick burns on Gil is .002, but I’m going to have to give him a small win today. Gil’s whole approach to the punt team is a disaster. Sure, things go wrong even with the best personnel, but Gil is just throwing crap at the wall to see what sticks during the game. Hey Weibe, you just scored a touchdown. Congrats, you’re the new long snapper. What are you doing Gil? Maybe that game video software that was hinted at earlier is so much fun to play around with that the whole coaching staff forgot to sort out the depth chart during practices. Wait, practices? Oh yeahhhh.

Never fear, everything will come up roses for Gil. Look! A miraculous play on the other side of the ball on special teams. Tiki Jansen, proud driver of a 2000 Breeze, blocks a field goal attempt. There’s no way to know how he got through or around the Oakwood line. He just did, okay?

eta billytheskink pointed out a similarity between Tiki’s dive and a cut scene from Tecmo Super Bowl. I think this is what he’s referring to:

I only played the first Tecmo Bowl game, and I was bad at it so I ended up mostly watching others play. I don’t think there were insert shots like this in that game.

Don’t Look So Excited, Jason

Jason looks as though he’d rather be keeping wicket for the Croydon Gentlemen as Kaz readies him to go over the top, then under the bus.  If this is the same Jason (Weibe) who just scored a touchdown on the last drive, why put one of your offensive weapons at risk like that?  I get that he’s a tight end and, unlike Heather Burns, probably has enough size to hold his own on the line, but still: we’ve seen no exposition that he’s practiced at the position.  How many elbows does Kaz have to get his arm around Jason’s shoulder like that?

Speaking of the anatomically implausible, is Sam Finn rolling on his own ankle as he reaches for the felt electric football?   That’ll set up a Weibe-to-Malouf punting combo even more disastrous than the last two.  There are obvious answers here, first being have the Mudlarks’ regular center snap the ball directly to Sam, who can take a two-step drop and and quick-kick.  If Milford operates out of the shotgun from time to time, the center should be used to snapping the ball a greater distance than a conventional snap, which would give Sam even more room for a quick-kick.

This will give Marty, now sporting cupcake liners in his headset, prime fodder for his postgame show.  How could Gil, Kaz, Steve & co. put such an ill-prepared special teams unit on the field?  Did they spend too much time on baseball?

metapost: The slow-motion disaster post-Hurricane Florence continues to unfold in Bakst country.  We no longer get a bonfire in Milford, but down there is a bonfire that’s having its own share of troubles.  Again, if any of you TWIMers were in the path of Florence and are dealing with the aftermath, holler at us and let us know you’re alright.