Betcha Can’t Muench Just One.

Gang, I hope and pray all of you have a very Merry Christmas. Let God shower you with gifts and blessings. It is a time to rejoice and spend time with family and friends. May the Holiday Season be a Season of Joy.

For me, as a Christian, it is an opportunity to remember the Birth of my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. He has done SO MUCH for me that I couldn’t continue to write this blog without mentioning that. I am nothing without Him. As much as I love goodies in my stocking, it is also a time to celebrate His Peace and Presence. Amazing how it all goes hand in hand.

However you worship, be true to the God you serve and take time out from your schedule to celebrate.

I am thankful for YOU, Gang. You mean so much to me. I am nothing without you TWIMers.

 

Interesting that Marty Moon mentions Thomas Muench as one of the starters. Now if you’re going to pronounce that the German way, pucker your lips as tightly as you can and say the word “cheese”. Now take that sound and apply it to that name, everything else like “munch” but adding in that sound I just mentioned. That’s the best German on tap.

The name is actually in place of an umlaut that is supposed to be placed over the “u” and the name was originally “Munch” with that umlaut included. My guess would be that when Germans immigrated, it was easier to Americanize and drop the umlaut and add the letter “e” and pronounce it like “Meench”. Pronunciation took the lazy route(ha) .

But that’s how “Kuebler” like “Keebler elves” got to be pronounced. Again, it was easier to cut the Gordian knot and make it easier for everyone to sound out, American or otherwise. Another good example is Koehler (German for “coal miner”) , only this time the umlaut got removed from the “o” (if you want to pronounce the umlauted “o”, pucker your lips halfway and say “shay”) and the name got pronounced like KAY-ler.

 

Now as long as Marty Moon is going to be lazy himself and sound like he got his brain taken out of him like the gorillas did on The Planet of the Apes: The Year They Conquered WDIG, he can at least go the way of Chris Berman. The dude was great for ESPN with all his nicknames he gave the baseball players when he was recapping the game a la “…and Babe ‘They named a candy bar after me’ Ruth hits one deep to left field off of Randy ‘You rang’ Lerch to tie the game. Next batter, Keith ‘Should have never been a Met’ Hernandez doubles off the wall, Willie ‘Reading this plot is like going through a’ Mays cannot get to it. Then ‘Wizard of’ Ozzie Smith lines one off of Gene ‘Lieutenant’ Garber to drive in the winning run, ball game.”

Oooooookkkkk, so here we go if Marty broadcasts for ESPN in the Mudlark gym as the “Let’s Get Ready to Rumble” theme blasts out

“Ladies and Gentlemen, at forwards will be Chris ‘The Season is a time for’ Schuring and Leonard ‘Ian’ Fleming. At center will be Marcell ‘Morceau’ Irby, and at guards will be ‘The Song of the’ Hiawatha James and Thomas ‘Lays’ Muench. They are coached by Gil ‘Forgot to clock in’ Thorp. Interesting that he changed his sobriquet last week from Gil ‘You don’t add an ‘e’ to my name, dammit, like Jim’ Thorp. The officials tonight are Joe ‘Homer’ Numbknuckle and George ‘Christmas comes early to the Thorp’s residence whenever I’m officiating in the Mudlark gym’ Thompson.”

Okay, I went a little wild with the last few. It’s Christmas, the time for giving.

Huge shout-out to Amberdean Adwell of Louisville, Kentucky. I gained a lot of respect for her yesterday when the Pizza Hut on Dixie Highway and Lower Hunters Trace was just SWAMPED. Her grace under pressure and deft aplomb got us all out of a very tight spot so that we could all laugh about it later on. Sounds like leadership to me. She proved why she is one of the managers and why people respect that. She also goes to school as well. Gang, I think that represents America and how America should go about its business. Anyone who can balance work and personal life like that deserves my respect and should get yours as well, Gang. Next time you see her, Gang, salute her. America needs her.

 

And then Thorpiverse graces us with a stocking stuffer, those crotch shots in P1. When I was taking TV Techniques in high school, Mr. Edelman, our teacher,  made his point how big of a no-no the Crotch Shot was by allowing the camera to be zoomed in on him while he’s being interviewed, then standing up to stretch while the camera man was caught napping. Mr. Edelman made his point.

But Thorpiverse is proudly wearing the Crotch Shot as a Badge of Honor as if that is all there is to basketball. I may not hit the backboard when I’m shooting 3’s or jump higher than a hippo when I’m going for the rebound but if my see-through gym shorts and matching jock strap are good enough for the camera, by gum, I’m on the team. No tryout necessary.

I’ll have to remember that the next time I’m watching The NBA on CBS at Christmas.

“Reggggiiiiieeeeee for 3!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

BOOM BABY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“And the Pacers lead by 12 with 3:53 left in the 3rd quarter. Slick, you think Reggie oughta pull up his shorts?”

“I was wonderin’ if anybody had noticed. The camera guy musta spilled his Starbucks when Reggie was shootin’, Mark.”

 

Then, besides Ted Bessell taking in a game after a heated argument with That Girl on where to move the Christmas tree (“Not near the World Book Encyclopedias!!!!!!!!! And I’m not using Gil’s hair as a star for the top of the tree!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”, I noticed Bobby Howry taking in a game. Or so the Milford Enquirer would have you think

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Mimi Thorp: ‘I Saw Booby And Elvis In The Home Opener!!!!!!!!!!!!! They Were Sitting By The Visitors’ Bench!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Elvis escorted out by security after lewd comments directed at Gil’s mother.

 

Gang, I’m a Classic Rocker ’til I die (The Rolling Stones, The Who, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, etc.) but don’t the rest of you Classic Rockers or population in general get annoyed when those so-called commercial-free Classic Rock stations prate about how commercial-free they are?

“We’re commercial-free so we don’t do any talking. We know when to shut up when all the other stations keep flapping their jaws and talk about Happy Hour at Milford Lounge or The Bucket because we can’t stand it when the DJ talks about how wonderful Breeze detergent is, that it makes his clothes whiter than Porter Waggoner’s hair or Dolly Parton’s Cold Creme and that he wipes his ass with the Breeze towel that came out of the Breeze Detergent box when he’s not using it to polish Gil’s bowling ball, we know when to shut up when the other radio stations won’t shut up, we know how to keep Mimi’s love affairs to a minimum-”

MOON, STFU AND PLAY THE MUSIC

“And that was my station manager making a request, The Purple People Eater, spinning your way now…”

 

And isn’t that what we’ve endured the last 2 weeks?

“Other comic strips talk on and on but we here at Thorpiverse know when to get to the point. While Dennis the Menace pitches a tent in Mr. Wilson’s living room, Alexa the IBM is swatting away her opponent’s shot, while Charlie Brown is calling Linus a wussie for clinging to his security blanket for 3 months, Mudlarks are displaying their private parts as a sign they’re ready for Tip-off…”

PLAY THE DAMN GAME, THORPIVERSE AND LEAVE HAL BACK AT IBM

There, I feel better.

 

Come to Jeff Smith Marathon in Edwardsville, Indiana and say hi to Crystal, Bre, and Georgiana. They keep the place humming and treat the customer like family. And the place is ALWAYS busy. They are ALWAYS working on cars and trucks. Do things VERY well and at affordable prices and you have a winning business. Factor in great gasoline and my vehicle is on the road chewin’ up the miles. Don’t take my word for it. Take Exit 118 off I-64 in Indiana and get on Indiana 62 west. Once off the freeway, it’s the first road to your left. You can’t miss the building. Come see what I mean and get in on the fun at Jeff Smith Marathon.

Support Small Business, Gang. You need to go where EVERYBODY knows your name. Crystal and Bre and Georgiana know mine.

 

 

And the action indicates that all of Springfield’s basketball team, bench included, will utilize the Doc Councilman Indiana University Swimming Breast Stroke Method to shoot 3’s, being somewhat guarded by the Mudlark with the pancake on his head. Well, there might be a few bugs in the system but we have action. One can’t have one’s cake and eat it too.

“Who’s guarding that guy with the yarmulke? Stay on him, he’s got 13 already.”

 

If ya git promoted ta producer cuz ya wuz the cameraman for RBN (Redneck Broadcasting Network) and ya showed more crack than a sidewalk when they wuz lined up fer the free throws ta be shot, ya might be a redneck.

 

But in P3, who’s doing the clamping? The Mudlark looks like he’s getting a garden hose job while Edward InvertedScissorsHands is making an attempt to secure the ball, futile as it appears to be.

We appreciate Thorpiverse getting an early jump on basketball, Lord knows we were holding our breath until Valentine’s Day but the Mudlark in P3 appears to about to get the Pile Driver applied to him. Oh well, if this is Thorpiverse’s way of clamping down, shooting a breakaway layup while getting body-slammed, it’s a start.

 

“Yeah, yeah, Coach Thorp, I know when to shut up. The other players may say ‘up yours’ and ‘Only The Muppets can coach better than you’ and ‘Bob Knight threw a chair at your wife’s 5-game season’ but I know how to shut up and listen to you teaching how to take a charge or readjust my jock strap when I’m itching like Lassie or get out of the lane before the ref calls 3 seconds unless we’re continually shooting at the basket-”

WHAM

“Shaddup.”

Looney Tunes will never be looked at the same way.

 

“And that’s halftime here in Springfield, with the score, Springfield, 31, Milford, 28. The Mudlarks have made some defensive adjustments, no thanks to Coach T.’s inept coaching, and they’re paying off here. If you’re in the area, come on down for the game. The gym is easy to locate, the building is the only one with crooked doors. And we’ll be back after these messages, this is Marty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG, a division of Learfield Sports.”

 

“Isn’t high school basketball exciting. I can’t wait until Martin Luther King’s Birthday when we host the Kris Kringle Holiday Tournament.

Hi, this is Coach Thorp and speaking of exciting, Milford Beverage Warehouse has a promo for you. For every bottle of Korbel Extra Dry Champagne you buy, the Warehouse will enter you in our Sweepstakes Drawing for a chance to win a trip for four to the Budweiser Clydesdale Horse Farm. Boy, I’d love to show my kids how they make horses and Bud Lite straight out of the stable. And no better time for romance than for me and Mimi to walk the Clydesdale and Coffee Tree Heritage Trail that runs through the woods of the estate. Even as we speak, I’m envisioning kissing under a poplar tree while some squirrel is barking its head off at a nearby oak tree. Nuts and nuzzling just go together like a Bud Dry and pretzels.

But even if you don’t win, you won’t go away empty-handed. The consolation prize is a bag of liquor goodies guaranteed to cure the beer tooth in your family. I understand some lucky loser is going to have a plastic bag of a bottle of Four Freedoms Vodka, The Recipient Cabernet in the 750 ml size, some M & M’s, a coupon for a free Bucket Buffalo Chicken Burger, a set of Paper-Mate pens in blue ink, and a $25 gift card from Milford 24-Hour Coin Laundry. Y’know, I’m in Heaven whenever I’m steam-cleaning my Hanes while sipping on a Cabernet, aren’t you? And even if you don’t get a chance to take the Clydesdale wagon for a ride around the lake, you may not have your Class B license, but you may have a chance at a plastic bag full of Miller High Life in the 12-Pack, 1.75 Liter bottle of Evan Williams Bourbon, a bag of Cheetos, Jalapeno-style, Gillette Trac II Triple Blade Disposable Razors, and some Breeze towels. Hey, Porter Waggoner knows where to go for the best deals on booze.

And even better news is this year’s event will be held under the tight security of the Milford Police Department Horse Patrol Guard. There’ll be no more incidents like last year of any shooting while a plastic bag of Coors Light 18-Pack and Tootsie Rolls is attempted to be doled out to its rightful owner. Rifle checks will be taken at the door, so please, you miscreants, don’t ruin all the fun just because you didn’t get your Bud and Blow Pops. Leave the gun on the gun rack.

Come in and enter for your chance to watch how Clydesdales breed and let the birds and bees shower you with gifts notwithstanding, only at Milford Beverage Warehouse. And tell ’em Coach Thorp sent ya.”

Thanks to Chloe Whitaker who helped spark the last comedy idea. Your Christmas gift of a bag of goodies and gift card was extremely thoughful and shows how much you care about the people working under you.  Treat her with respect, Gang, she’s earned it. God bless you, Chloe.

 

Gang, enjoy the Holidays. God bless you again.

 

Holiday Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“Clydesdale horse found mixed up with meat processed from Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage plant!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“O.J.: ‘I told Cochran I was wondering why my Kielbasa Fritters and Pancakes breakfast tasted funny.”

 

Mugsy and Rocky rob the Milford Federal Credit Union and get in the getaway car. They find Bobby Howry and Bugs Bunny in the back seat, the latter pair thinking it’s a taxi

“Awright, Booby, whattya know?”

“Know? I know Bugs Bunny could broadcast better than Marty Moon, Milford is the capital of Cartoonland, Gil has no sex life with Mimi and has 2 kids to show for it-

SHADDAP

“Oh, don’t you worry, Rocky, when I’m told to shut up, I shut up, I don’t drag a plot for 5 months and call it football, when I know I should shave like Chet Ballard, I shut up-”

SHADDAP

Mugsy, driving the getaway car, intervenes

“Duhhhhhhh, gee, Boss, Bugs and Booby are right, the basketball plot could last until Memorial Day and I don’t want no basketballs at the Indy 500-”

SHADDAP THORPIVERSE

 

This storylines’ a real turkey

The story drags on with Marty basically jumping off Ballards ship, much like Clarence Boddicker and Dick Jones partnership fell apart in RoboCop after Clarence involved Jones in his criminal doings.

Hopefully Chet will only go to jail and not wind up fired like Dick Jones in the end– maybe Chief Lind will do the honors this time.

Get Out Of This Comic Strip, You Misguided Puppet.

For Thanksgiving,  I wish nothing but the finest for all of you. May God have you prosper at work, at home, and with your family.

I am VERY thankful for the TWIMers who keep this thing going. You amaze me, people. What started out with one person has branched out into a pitch-in campaign and that’s what makes the humor that much more effective. In the nearly two years on the staff, I humbly sit back and watch you people write your stuff and I am never disappointed.

I am nothing without Jesus Christ. He makes it possible to write this nonsense and I praise Him several times over. He has blessed me on the site and off the site, i.e., my family, home, work, everyday living, and that makes Thanksgiving truly a holiday for me.

You may worship a different God. If so, give Him your best if you don’t worship mine, is all I ask. Either way, a HUGE thank you for all that you do, Gang. Again, Thanksgiving is not the same without you. You all mean the world to me.

 

Is Chet Ballard in trouble. How else could you explain the extra Magic Marker stains on his forehead, hair, apparel, beard, well, I wouldn’t go that far on the last one. Maybe lice but not Magic Markers. The lack of trimming of his beard or ethics is enough of a smudge mark(s).

Black Bart, Snidely Whiplash, The Joker, Jerry Pulver have all challenged Gilberto the last 60 years. As you can see, in spite of lack of coaching or styling mousse (dips his hair in the same vat where Crayolas are allowed to cool and settle) , Gilberto is always Last Man Standing. What makes Chet think he’d be an exception? When you have a weasel for a School Superintendent suddenly coming across like Wyatt Earp, Chet should have seen the signs. Wrist snapped back into place after Howard Elston nee Elston Howard finally got his Tinkertoy parts FedExed, conversations with Filet Mignon Head the Receptionist, Mrs. Roh appearing on Divorce Court. You didn’t notice, Chet? You might have a fine six-shooter but if Gil’s been lugging around a cannon for six decades…

“I’m Doug Llewellyn, reminding you that if you’re husband hasn’t pared his beard since FDR implemented the TVA program and is a stiff-necked lout with more teeth than moral behavior, and try as you might to tell him not to pick the lock on the door leading into the students’ records, let alone hot-wire the Macys’ station wagon when the Die Hard battery failed in his own vehicle, don’t call Don Corleone and have him dumped in Mudlark Lake. Take him to court.”

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Judge Wapner Orders Chet Ballard To Hand Over Stolen Records Of O.J.’s College Transcript!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“A lot of good that did. We still wound up in second place in the Milford Parks & Recreation Adult Flag Football League.”

 

And to think, Marjie and Janis Ian thought that Mr. Flex-Name, er, School Superintendent couldn’t bring Chet to his knees. Amazing what happens when you actually exercise your authority, especially when the crime was painfully obvious. Guess he got his head out of his butt and saw daylight and the truth, whichever came first. This Bud’s for you, Flex.

 

Now I’m helpless, it’s a killing spree

This travesty and farce will drive me to the sea

It took some time to plan where I’m coerced to flee

The Mudlark team is all coming after me

I had no thought about my own reward

I cheated without Chance or Charlie’s firm accord

Just don’t say I’m

DAMNED FOR ALL TIME

 

Andrew Lloyd Webber couldn’t have said it any better.

 

Now, come on, Chet. Extenuating circumstances? We’ve been reading the Milford National Toilet for 3-4 months and have observed Gil not doing his job because he was riding in the back seat with Friday and Gannon and have watched Marjie conduct what amounted to an audit when she wasn’t puking with Sam Finn over Manwiches  and Canada Dry during the same length of time and you can’t lie any better than THAT????? You better upgrade your prevarications to “I was bitten by a zombie and therefore was not in  my right mind when I walked in with the combination to the records vault at Milford High School Complex that I stole from Dr. Pearl’s purse under her Pond’s Cold Cream and walked away with Chance’s time at Devil’s Island when Chance was rooming in the same stockade with Papillon” if you want to earn your 30 pieces of silver is all I can say.

 

If ya turn in a poacher and the Con-ser-va-shun Officer tries ta reward ya with 30 pieces of silver but ya turn it down and insist on a 6-month supply of ammo instead cuz ya cain’t shoot an 8-pointer with 30 pieces of silver, especially during bow season, ya might be a redneck.

 

P2-now that we’re in the High Horse section of today’s strip NO WAY do any censures or castigations of a general nature occur WITH A HALO SURROUNDING HIM OR HER. I know we’re going for the inspiration angle here but Gil cussing out Kaz because the laundry lady forgot to wash all the jock straps before kickoff with Gil environed with St. Elmo’s Fire just doesn’t cut it.

But let’s examine a few more examples for all you stubborn mules who don’t know when to say “uncle”.

“Gil, get out of the trash can!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Milford Sanitary Disposal, Inc. picked up the trash this morning. The Totino’s  Supreme is long gone!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Peaches, I’m pumping as fast as I can!!!!!!!!!!!! Why don’t you go brush your teeth? I should be good to go by the time you come to bed.”

“Darling, quit sneaking out with my dentures!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Nobody respects a principal  of the school if she metes out In-School Suspension displaying her gums!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There’s an ample supply under the sink!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Oh wow, Beaver, when Dad comes home and finds out that Ms. Rizk caught you jacking off her typewriter, you’re gonna get clobbered!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Somebody’s been dumping rabbit meat in the Spaghetti O’s again and I will fire the next cafeteria lady caught dragging in Bugs Bunny!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Catwoman, I perform oral sex when I’m off the clock!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now it’s time to send you up the river to the Milford Women’s Correctional Facility!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Always after  me Lucky Charms!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

The last one was on the house.

 

I did it cuz I had to, I’m the one who saw.

That Chance never polished all his silly flaws

Moreover there’s an issue that I hate to broach

He lacerated the jaws of his clueless coach

I had not thought about my own reward

Though I wouldn’t mind driving home with Gil’s Accord

Just don’t say I’m

DAMNED FOR ALL TIME

 

And I know that Thorpiverse is trying to create the right mood given the situation at hand but does anyone think Il Barbiere di Siviglia as a Moor is a bit much, especially when it’s mixed in with the clown paint before he lets ‘er rip with Vesti La Giubba? I know Thorpiverse and Pagliacci were collaborating in order to ensure proper effect but putting on clown paint when you’re already a clown, let alone that life goes on even if Mrs. Roh runs off with Steve Luhm is throwing one too many irons in the bonfire at the Milford Pep Rally. And Il Barbiere’s nightmare has just begun, not sidetracked looking like The Joker after Catwoman split on you without signing the divorce papers. Looking like Bozo whwn you’re already Bozo anyway isn’t going to stop Pontius Pilate and his Ring of Fire he borrowed from Johhnny Cash from pointing a finger at you. It’s never too late for Il Barbiere to get his A license and drive semi’s.

 

 

On a recent episode of Texas Ranger Studman Machomaniac Kent Walker Shaw

Racing his butt off in his Range Rover, Texas Ranger Studman Machomaniac Kent Walker Shaw, after leaving the iceberg in the background that had more parallel lines, eyes his target.

“All right, Goofy, take off your  mask and let me see your driver’s license and registration.”

“But I’m not wearing a mask. I just tanned a little too long on the tanning bed at Milford 24-hour Laundromat.

“That;s what they all say. But I noticed you didn’t bring any Mudlark Cling-Free sheets. Dead giveaway. They always wind up with static on their Breeze towels when the sun lamp goes haywire and they don’t have an updated registration.”

“They’re holding up my face.”

 

And I remember from my school days when I attended a Model UN Conference. I represented Austria so I was mainly a minor player since Austria never mixed it up with, say, the U.S. and the USSR in negotiations. Anyway, we had an issue on the table that involved Israel and the PLO. Naturally, true to the real world model of the UN, the one representing Israel and the one representing the PLO are slugging it out, the rest of us trying to mediate the conflict, again as in the actual UN proceedings.

And somewhere in the middle of the presentations, Israel is flailing of course at the PLO but then, while discussing a potential agreement, the Israel representative yielded the rest of his time to the PLO, something Israel would NEVER do in the UN proceedings.

That’s why I had to adjust my set on WDIG-TV. I could have sworn I saw Marty Moon tell the truth about Gil. Sometimes the antenna outside gets chewed on by the raccoon in the neighborhood. Santa has been known to have had one Mudlar-K-Cola Non-Alcoholic too many and trip over the antenna while trying to get to the chimney with his bag of toys. And sometimes Donner and Blitzen dump their poop around the area.

If Santa curbed his reindeer, Chet’s in a lot of trouble. Chet’s running out of friends and if Marty yields the rest of his time to Gil, it’s time to head to Antarctica. Hope he doesn’t mind living with penguins.

 

Thank you for trashing his personal file

We’re grateful for info that’s meant to hurt

You’ll be richly rewarded with coins by the mile

It’s a pleasure to deal with a man of your worth

 

I DON’T WANT YOUR BLOOD MONEY

Oh, why don’t you take it, our wages are good

I DON’T NEED YOUR BLOOD MONEY

You’ve hurt Chance’s chances, we think that you should

 

Think of the many ways you can spend it

The Bucket, a steak house, The Milford Lounge

Just look at it as payment for setting things straight

30 pieces of silver is the least we can

Least we can

Least we can

Scrounge

 

“Don’t go away. We will return for Chance’s crucifixion on Jesus Christ Superstar after these messages. This is WDIG-TV.”

 

At the Milford Soup Kitchen on Thanksgiving

“Good Lord, I just swallowed an army boot!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage claimed they used no fillers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Anybody know the number of The Shark?”

“It’s bad enough that one person got nailed to a tree and another soon to follow but while you’re keeping track of the 39 floggings out there, you can wash YOUR hands of your own affairs by calling  1-FON-THE-JAWS. Thanksgiving handouts shouldn’t have to be hazardous dump roped off by the EPA.”

“I got a check for $4,754,968,256 from Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage after The Shark took out his 20%. I was able to buy the ladles at the Soup Kitchen and shave my scraggly beard. I got tired of looking like Chet Ballard with hand-me-downs he got from Milford Thrift Store. People were always asking me about insurance while I was in line getting mulligan stew dumped on my tray. Now I can scrape my succotash with day-old Wonder Bread in peace. Thanks, Shark.”

“Insurance companies are hard at work covering their own end. Don’t let Gil drop a fly in your soup. Thanksgiving is a time to be thankful, not sorting out elephant turds in sausage that Mr. Thorp calls fillers. If your own Thanksgiving celebration is wet from all the pee that one of your hobo friends at The Kitchen let loose on the Cool Whip, that shouldn’t stop you from enjoying the pumpkin pie. Get the money you deserve to replace the Cool Whip and enjoy your own rhubarb pie.”

“I got 39,576 tubs of Cool Whip stuffed in my locker at the Milford Shelter. I can eat real pumpkin pie and turkey plus Jimmy Dean Pure Pork Sausage as an appetizer. The rest of the money I’ll invest in long-term bonds. Thanks, Shark.”

“You heard the man. come reap the rewards of your own handout. One call, that’s all.”

 

Thanks for your patience, Gang. Thanksgiving was truly good to me today. Working with my great nephew in basketball, playing games with the rest of the kids, being with my mom and dad and several nieces and nephews, while enjoying my sister’s cooking and watching Thanksgiving football just gave me several more reasons to be thankful. I hope you can say the same.

 

Always knew that I’d be a frickin’ Mudlark

Always knew I’d be one if I tried

Then when I leave school

I can lounge like Gil Thorp

So they’ll all emulate us when we die

I heard Marjie Rapping, Rapping At My Door.

Uh oh.

Whenever Marty casts that evil eye and leaves the Milford Recreational Sports 60th Annual Darts Tournament, you know something’s cooking between those ears of his. You just don’t execute a couple of bulls-eyes while you observe your overmatched opponent possess the aim of a welder when he has his gloves still on while still trying to solder the Anchor Pub sign back into place. The results are all over the dart board, literally, in back of Marty while he soaks in the Bud and the gossip. Sorta like walking and chewing gum at this point, when you think about it.

“Okay, Marty, you’re up.”

“I’ll skip this round. I have a great chance of winning the Masters 60 & Over Tournament later on anyway. Whose my opponent? Roy Gillen? In the bag. Anyway, Chet, so you say he mooned his kindergarten teacher and got due-processed? Before or after the teachers threw an Oreo in his chest at naptime?”

 

Once upon a plotline dreary, our interest weak and weary

I heard a tapping, tapping at my door

Coach Luhm came in to buffer like no tomorrow

We had no aegis with which to borrow

The buffer and the soap (opera) both caused great sorrow

But you could store one back in the closet

The other remained with us

Evermore

 

If ya gotta pursue the rent-a-trap route from Milford U-Haul after the crow done disturbed yore beauty sleep where yuz fantasizin’ about bein’ arm-and-arm with the 400-pound beauty queen in yore department on third shift at work and it takes forever ta set up the trap cuz the UPS driver forgot ta send the instruction manual, ya might be a redneck.

 

Unfortunately, our TWIMers may prove correct, i.e., Marty may rat out Chet rather than use the artillery Chet provides. I liked Teenchy’s omerta comparision because Marty may not only not recycle Chet’s lowdown on Chance’s truancy from Song Flute class but may use info like that to stultify Chet.

“So what if Chance couldn’t toot “On the Banks of the Wabash?. Hell, I had trouble accompanying the soloist on “MacArthur Park.” Did you ever try to keep up with Richard Harris on a song flute?”

 

Heard blasting on Gil’s speakers out of his Chevy Nova one day while he applies Turtle Wax Lime to the hood, the vocorder proudly proclaiming the message from Parsons’ “Tales of Mystery and Imagination”

While I was vacuuming

And emptying ash trays

I heard a knocking at my door

 

It wasn’t a Witness

No Girl Scout selling

Her fudgies evermore

 

In my amazement

She stood there intending

My assistance to implore

 

A School Board member

Must be dismembered

So we won’t hear

Forevermore

 

Thus quoth Gilberto

Nevermore

Thus quoth Gilberto

Nevermore

 

Nevermore Nevermore Nevermore

Never

Nevermore Nevermore Nevermore

Never

Nevermore Nevermore Nevermore

Never

 

NEVERMORE

 

Thank you to the Milford Chorale Society for the accompaniment to Ian Bairnson, Stuart Tosh, London Symphony Orchestra, etc.

Oh, and kudos to Milford Pawn ‘n’ Carry for the vocorder

 

I mean, Chet better watch his backside here. Which, if everything goes according to script, is really the idea. Chet’s about to get hoisted by his own petard because any time you unload confidential information to Loony Moony, well, you Hooligans know what the OTHER Loony Moony did with those cars. Wound up in Davy Jones Locker at some podunk Holiday Inn, last I recall. Chet, YOU might find yourself in the bottom of the swimming pool at the Oakwood Holiday Inn alomg with Chance’s parole records for the month of February if you continue this conversation at The Pub That Serves Anchors and Onion Rings and Darts That Are Really Dr. Pearl’s Knitting Needles.

Oh, pay no mind to Marty’s leer. He gets that way when he’s welcoming new members of the Wide Path of Destruction. Those Boys Town records of Chance you got FedExed from Father Flanagan ought to be secure at the safe deposit box at the Post Office while you’re attending Marty’s Day of Reckoning.

 

Because I’m really unsure why there’s a tanning clinic under the same roof as a laundromat like I saw recently

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Coach Thorp Sent To Minor Emergency Clinic After Overexposure To UV Rays From Heat Lamp At Milford 24-Hour Coin Laundry!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“The damn rinse cycle took FOREVER to complete. I had to insert an extra quarter or two just to kick-start it.”

 

And the silken and uncertain rustling of this plot

Killed me-filled me with needless terrors and ennui I have felt in baseball and golf before

So that now, to the stagnation of everyone concerned, I stood repeating

‘Tis some muckraker entreating entrance at my chamber door

Some Grantland Rice-wannabe entreating entrance at my chamber door

That it is and nothing more

 

We will return to this Masterpiece Theater Father Brown Mystery in a moment but first let me explore the meaning of the phrase “to chat up”.

Now I can understand Chet and Marty CHATTING at the Anchor Pub in the family room because ya gotta leave your attitude and your gossip at the entrance leading into the bar. No discussion of Chance’s molestation of Milford Head Start children accusations when he was in charge of leading recess (“Okay, kiddies, grab your private parts and go ‘I think I can, I think I can…”) or when he sent Grandma Macy to Milford General Hospital because she served the wrong Hamburger Helper (“I wanted PORK and pasta!!!!!!!!!!”) .

And I can understand General Lee and General Grant CHATTING at Appomattox when discussing terms of surrender (“Sure, everybody can keep their pistols. Just gotta drop your Winchesters in the bin. So how’s your boy doing? Did you have to hold him back another year?”) .

And I can understand Batman and Robin CHATTING before they break into that deserted warehouse that hasn’t been used since the old ladies moved to Lowell, Massachusetts to comtinue their 18-hour shift of looming and weaving to arrest The Joker (“You’re flunking Phys Ed, Robin?”) .

BUT HOW THE HELL DO YOU CHAT UP?

A better question is

WHO CHATS UP???????????????

 

When Franklin Delano Roosevelt sponsored his Fireside Chats, he never, ever CHATTED UP the Tennessee Valley Authority project. Didn’t CHAT UP the WPA. Hitler was never CHATTED UP like it was North Carolina CHATTING UP Duke or vice versa (FUCK HOLLAND) . I mean, if I want to CHAT UP my Muriel cigar, I’ll go get my Zippo, thank you very much.

Anybody want the rest of these Bucket Buffalo Wings, BTW? Otherwise, I’m going to CHAT THEM UP.

Marjie is CHATTING UP the door in P2. And looks like she got an answer. Those Avon techniques work every time.

 

Open here I flung through Marjie’s peruke, when,

After many a spit and sputter

In stepped Margaret Nutchall’s mom after

Giving Dennis the Menace a/ka Chet

A tongue-lashing

But, with mien or otherwise uninvited, perched at my chamber door

Settled on a bust of Gil when he just used Tegrin Medicated Shampoo on his hair

She settled and the plot did nothing more

 

“…still paying extra for your lodging accommodations? Well, at Milford Motel Econo-Stay, you get a nice quiet room for $27 less than Milford Courtyard by Marriott. When Mimi’s aunt stayed a couple of days while traveling the country, why did she need to pay an extra 27 simoleons for a Gideon’s Bible? She brought her own, there was none in the drawer…”

 

P3-“We had made passionate love at the Milford Motel Econo-Stay…”

Well, what else could it be at this point as people have been doing more investigating than Smiley’s People? I have always liked reading John Le Carre, his deliberate style to FINALLY nail a Doctor No or some Soviet flunky who has engineered a plan to take over West Berlin by slipping past Checkpoint Charlie with the conspiracy hidden in Gil’s hair but do we really honestly have to read about this in Mudlarkland? Before it’s all said and done, Chance will be executed by a firing squad for treason right before kickoff to Valley Tech.

And who’s Ms. Forsman? Is she related to The Joker, given her choice of slacks which runs in synchronization with that villain’s wardrobe? Is THIS the reason why we gotta keep it real in P3 because Chance was seen in the Jokermobile aiding and abetting in the cause when The Joker and his gang set out to rob The Bucket? Well, The Joker doesn’t wear chunky earrings. And Chance may still have to answer for his possible Boys Town record but we don’t think Father Flanagan taught him to be a Commie rat. There’s hope.

Now we have it reduced to “Editor, Reporter, Sailor, Spy” Ducey and her tea time and scones with Mrs. Joker. I can’t wait for this Le Carre novel to be released next month. Oughta be exciting. Definitely more than this plot anyway.

 

Because I’m intrgued when kids sing around the campfire while dad has finally conquered his ED problems as I saw in an ad

 

“…take one down, pass it around, 97 bottles of beer on the wall-”

“Honnnneeeyyyyyyy, I’m glad you brought the kids along for our Milford Marraige Enrichment Seminar but we slid the credit card for the that cabin here at Mudlark Lake for a reasonnnnnnnnn. And I’m hornnyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.”

“Just when we’re getting to the best part? Heck, Mrs. Shaw, I still haven’t opened that other bag of Milford Kwik-ee Mart Munchy Marshmallows? Okay, kiddies, who needs a stick? I can always rip a branch off that sugar maple over yonder.”

“Darling, that’s what the baby-sitter is for. Now put that Beanie-Weenie down and let’s do our own roasting in that nice comfy feather bed, the one that comes with a Gideon’s Bible.”

“Okay, who knows the words to Camptown Races?

Camptown Races sing this song

Doo Dah

Doo Dah

Find Chance’s bio and don’t be long

Oh Doo Dah Day-”

“This Camptown Race is taking way too long. You can always air guitar at the Enrichment Seminar Jamboree.”

“Just when I was doing my best Joe Walsh? Okay, boys and girls, repeat after me

I HAVE ACCOUNTANTS PAY FOR IT ALL

THEY SAY I’M CRAZY BUT IT TAKES ALL MY TIME

“Honey, is your wim wim as lame as that Oscar Meyer Wiener you’re roasting?”

Coach Shaw, getting desperate

“Oh I wish were as hard as this Oscar Meyer Wienerrrrrrrrr

Then my wife would truly be in love with me”

 

The kids understandably befuddled.

“Those aren’t the words.”

 

“When the hot dogs were firing up faster than my Significant Other, it was time to ‘fess up and head to Milford Men’s Clinic. You don’t need a pin oak branch to roast this bad boy and with proven treatment plans that work, isn’t it time you sang “Happy Days Are Here Again” at your next wienie roast? And they left the light on when me and Mrs. Shaw entered the cabin for our own Marshmallow Enrichment Seminar. Come get your own silver maple branch and start roasting the Vienna sausages only at The Clinic. You’ll be glad you did.”

Thanks again for your patience, Gang. I owe you one.

 

As I pondered, pondered the question

Whether my beloved Lenore would outlast this plot

The Raven, fresh from flatulating from a Burger at The Bucket

Reflected upon my inquisitive nature

Insensitive and inured to my desperate plight and the buffoonery therewith

And uttered

“Nevermore”

 

I’M BACK IN THE SADDLE AGAIN

 

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

“Get to The Clinic. You’ll have 15 minutes before it closes.”

Gil puts “Rocks” back in the saddle, er, album sleeve

Marty Uses Dr. Frazier Crane’s Catchphrase

So this is going where we kinda thought it was going. Chet Ballard’s anonymous tip to The Milford Star went nowhere, so he’s taking his grievances down to the lower levels of the Milford media landscape. Hello, Marty Moon.

Let’s start with the best part of this development: We’re introduced to a new drinking establishment somewhere in the Milford area. It’s The Anchor Bar (or maybe it’s The Anchor Bap or even The Anchor Bop). It’s a classy place where a classy guy like Chet Ballard can drink a bottle of beer. It also has a big sign…maybe, that second panel is just confusing, geometrically speaking.

So Chet appears to be easing into his airing of grievances, mixing in his general displeasure with Gil’s coaching results (“He never wins the big games”) with a ginned up version of Sam Finn’s trip to the ER. (Sam collapsed because a virus was spreading around at home…or that’s what Gil would have us believe wink wink).

We’ll wait and see how Marty reacts to any of this. We’ll also wait to see how Chet broaches the subject of Chance Macy’s checkered past as well as how Marty reacts. 

Until this develops, I’ll just hang out here at The Anchor Bar and have a Negroni and a scotch egg. What’re you guys havin’?

Much Ado About Turnovers

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

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

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

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

To Assume Is To Make A Mudlark Out Of You And Me.

We’re back in the bottom of the Grand Canyon where Gil is doing his weekly interview with a man he’d just as soon observe get shot in the butt and hauled off to the Tombstone, Arizona cemetery where they are performing last rites for the Clanton boys.

And is it just me or do you all, particularly the Thorpiverse veterans, notice the change of appearance by Marty Moon? In the Berrill years, Marty had that shiny mop top you could wipe the dirty dishes with and Marty’s glean could still be seen over in Oakwood. There could be an earthquake in Milford, 8.4 on the Richter Scale, and the school might crumble to the ground, the girls gym might topple without anybody noticing, or caring the way the season went this past season or DIDN’T went, the Milford’s Men’s Clinic might have to reorder supplies after the Milford Mall went the way of Carrie White (“MMC burns in Hell!!!!!!!”) , but Marty’s hair, every follicle, would stay in place. He might be in the same place AS Carrie White but 1) Who’s gonna argue about his final destination? Thought so 2) See #1 3) His hair would still stay fresh after 60 years even if it would look kinda funny on a skeleton. Well, we can’t have everything. You learn to give and take in Thorpiverse.

In the present scheme of things, Marty decided to go for the ’60’s look, i.e., the bassist for The Move. No wonder why they never really hit their stride. Does anybody really think The Beatles-in-waiting could hit the heights with a snake undermining the show? He might look swell in that Ringo coif but Ringo’s ethics matched his drumming. Eventually, Jeff Lynne and Bev Bevan threw the snake in the gutter, or WDIG as it was later designated, and they went on to become Electric Light Orchestra (ELO). Marty went on to journalism and the rest is history. So is his hair.

So before Zeus and his Titans warm up in the Greek Stadion against the Amazons in Extreme Football, Marty and Gil are obliged to renew acquaintances and refuel a rivalry matched only by Michigan-Ohio State, Tennessee-Alabama or UCLA-USC. But those rivalries are interesting even if you’re not a fan of either school. Press the snooze button on this interchange today between Beatnik and Butthead.

 

Responding to a message I saw at a bank that stated “We do not have public restrooms”

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Milford EPA Shuts Down Milford Federal Credit Union After Hazardous Odors Permeate Building And Out Onto The Street!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Officials traced the smell to Coach Shaw’s residue from a Bucket 3-Cheese Pizza he had for lunch before he had cashed a Milford 7-11 money order.”

 

And P2 is just so full of baloney, it REEKS of a Bucket 3-Meat Pizza. Gil, answer the damn question. I know you have it in you to be professional and actually address what is being asked, even if I’d just as soon take my chances in a National Forest in Montana and hope no grizzly bear shows up to force  me to share  my Bucket o’ Buffalo Wings  than to interview with Ringo Moon. But, Coach, that was the understanding when you interviewed with the principal in ’58. Yeah, you’re going to have to talk to the press. and give logical answers. Not this Alice-in-Wonderland bullshit you’re spouting in today’s strip.

“Gil, so you think Chance’s injury cost Milford a shot at winning against Tilden?”

“Well. Marty, as the turtle said to the lobster while they were on the road to Mandalay to get their marriage license, ‘You can’t assume that you’re going to win just because the hippopotamus tore the goal post down. I had to explain to the whole lot of them hippos that it ain’t over ’til Chance’s bashing the hyena in the ground is over.'”

“Is Chance going to have to get rabies shots?”

“We’ll see. Depends on Dr. Doolittle has enough time after birthing a female Java rhino.”

And really, Coach, that is YOUR job to win. I never assumed ANYTHING as a coach, but Hell yeah, I EXPECTED victory. Or you’re taking early leave as a coach.

I remember a Big Ten coach who I’ll hold nameless whose team lost to some powderpuff, I mean the Milford Betting Line had them winning by 30 but that team LOST to that powderpuff, the team throwing a desperate 3-point heave that clanged off the rim, and a potential game-winner-that-would-have-bailed-them-out-and-taught-them-to-prepare-for-EVERY-opponent-from-now-on wound up on the half-court line, harmlessly sitting until somebody later put it on the ball rack.

And I remember the coach after the game making the comment that when you warm up casual before the game, you’re going to play casual and consequently get your ass beat. Okay, well and good, nobody’s going to argue with that.

EXCEPT, it is YOUR job, Coach, to ensure they DON’T warm up casual. By preparing for every opponent as if they could beat you even if some teams don’t stand a bat chance in Hades of beating you. Y’know, Coach, ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN???? Kentucky is a proud tradition in basketball because one day, when they lost to Auburn on their home floor, Rupp Arena, Auburn not having beaten the Wildcats many times, let alone AT Rupp Arena, Eddie Sutton, the coach at the times called the players in the locker room and asked 3 questions

1. Do you know the name of the player who scored the game-winning shot?
2. Do you know what the final score was?
3. Do you know who our next 3 opponents are?

Coach Sutton made his point.

Gil, it’s not rocket science. No, it ain’t over ’til it’s over but you don’t quit coaching just cuz Jerry Lawler body-slammed Freezer Thompson because Freezer said Jerry’s mother uses Gil comics to scoop up the dog poop. You make those fans happy, y’know, the ones with the Vulcan placards at every game (“Gil coaches worse than Captain Kirk!!!!!!”) , because the same Vulcans expect nothing less than your best effort. What would happen to Spaceship Enterprise if it went at half-throttle? Might crash-land into Uranus.

 

“Do you know who Dagwood’s neighbor is?”

“Do you know where Coach Shaw ran off to?”

“Do you know what kind of insurance Grandpa Macy carries when Chance went berserk and suffered a contusion when he threw the Tilden jerk through the ropes after he slammed his head in the turnbuckle?”

“Uh, no, Marty. I’ll have to check back with you later. I think Shaw is working with inner city youth somewhere in Christchurch, New Zealand but I wouldn’t swear to it. And I’ll have to read the funnies today in the Milford Enquirer. For once, it might not get swiped when I take the paper out of the little coin stand.”

“You’re held to a higher standard, Gil, when you walk between them lines of the comic strip. Your hair is standing taller than you right now.”

If ya git interviewed by Milford Outdoors Today on WDIG-TV after ya had missed a turkey at Milford Fish and Wildlife Public Land and ya git asked

1. Did ya remember the name of yore shotgun?
2. Did ya remember what dumpster the turkey is headed to next?
3. Did ya know turkey season ended yesterday?

And ya can bribe the game warden with a 20 ya found in yore glove box from the poker game ya won last year, ya can scope out the turkey at the Milford High School  maintenance building incinerator and ya not only know the name of yore shotgun, ya can actually spell it, ya might be a redneck

And what are Tom Petty and Clarence “Fat Boy” Clemmons doing together on the sidelines in P3? Didn’t Clarence solo on “Born to Run”? and aren’t they both d-, Oh, shazam, that’s Chance on his crutches once again. I thought this was not a career-ending injury. Ooops, I forgot, this is Thorpiverse. When the ratings decline and people are engineering a mass exodus out of Milford and flocking to Nancy and Sluggo, Thorpiverse has to use its Colt .45, the same one used to blast Gil’s horse in the head when it tripped on Mimi’s verandah, and shoot Chances ankle to smithereens. I understand Chance is out for the next decade.

WHO SHOT COACH SHAW???????????

“I swear, Grandpa, that dude was UGLY. After he shot at Coach, he took aim at my ankles.”

“And Milford is set to kick off against Central any day now. Hmmmmmm, sounds like a Joan Baez recording. Anyhoo, we’ll be back for opening kick after this. This is Marty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG, a division of Lear Field Sports.”

 

“Daddy, I gotta go to the BATHROOM!!!!!!”

“In a minute, Jaime. Daddy has to give himself a shot.”

“But I’m going to pee all over the cat if you don’t hurry!!!!!!!”

“Big Guy, I apologize. It’s a very difficult maneuver but once I get it in, I’ll be out before you can say ‘Mr. Green Jeans has erectile dysfunction.'”

“Daddy, I got to brush my teeth. Mommy wants me to wash my molars so I don’t get Klondike Bar stains. She says she doesn’t the teachers to think I chew Red Man.”

“I’m just about done. DAGGONE!!!!!!!! If I shoot this damn thing at a 45 degree angle, I should be able to hit my significant other at the point where the blood is flowing”

“Mommy, what is he talking about? Is Daddy shooting himself up with drugs?”

“Uhhhhh, no, Honey, well, yes and no. Yes, he’s shooting himself all right but no, it’s not drugs. And if he gets his butt out of the bathroom, i can not only put the curlers back on the stand, I can show him a much better way to relieve himself.”

“But, Mommy, he’s not sitting on the potty.”

“EUREKA!!!!!!!!! THAT’S IT!!!!!!!!!!! I’ll sit on the john and give myself an injection!!!!!!!!!”

The toilet lid slams

“Gil, why don’t you open the door? Jaime had to pee in the Le Seuer can just to ease the agony.”

“Mimi, I almost got it. Hold steady. Arch and a spin, go for the rim. Just have good follow-through. And don’t forget to box out.”

“Mommy, why is he talking that way? Is he shooting free throws in the toilet?”

“He might as well be.”

“SHIT!!!!!!!!!! And that’s the last needle!!!!!!!! And my insurance won’t cover a second dozen of these daggone things!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

“Mimi showed me a much better way. With the Milford Men’s Clinic EREC-9000 Energy Boost Tablet, I am guaranteed to garner a blood flow through my significant other. In fact, if I don’t lay it on thick and it doesn’t widen to proportions you could use to roast marshmallows, the Milford Men’s Clinic will refund your money, no questions asked. I don’t know about you but I’ve been roasting Mimi pretty damn good. She’s been enjoying that quaking aspen branch lately. Come start your own campfire and taste the marshmallows at Milford Men’s Clinic today. You’ll be glad you did.”

 

All right, Gang, have at it. I’m waiting anytime here at Circus Maximus for the Milford Chariot Races to commence. I’m bettin’ on Mr. Ed.

 

Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Disgusted After Losing To Underdog In Milford Adult Flag Football League!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I couldn’t answer who scored the winning TD. Somebody said it was some optometry student at Milford Community College.”

 

“So Coach, what happened tonight?”

“Come again?”

“Why’d you lose?”

“Well, when the rhododendron got horny when it saw the zebra…”

“…Charlie The Roh Down To The 15!!!!!! The 10!!!!! The 5!!!!! Touchdown…”

You old-timers will remember the Happy Days episode, (I mean this one was OLD because the intro was “Rock Around The Clock” by Bill Haley & The Comets, not the “These days are ourrrrrrsssss, those Happy Days” opening”), where Richie Cunningham is working as an errand boy at this radio station and this hot shot DJ is in a dispute with the station manager over his pay. Eventually the DJ walks out, even after putting on a ridiculous showboating exhibition to prove he’s worth more money. The station manager, the same guy who played The Maytag Man in the Maytag commercials, yanks Richie from his sweeping job around the studio and puts him on the air. Of course, he’s stumbling at first, but then develops more confidence as he settles into the job. This eventually leads to his new identity, Richie the C. And, boy, he just goes to town with it. Had to have been there.
Therefore, as long as we’re going to get ridiculous and have Chance on crutches after snuffing out Godzilla when the Japanese film company should have sent Godzilla back in the ocean, cave, polar ice cap, the boys toilet at Milford Elementary, etc., we might as well introduce Charlie the Roh and display his bag of tricks. What have we got to lose? The plot’s stalling anyway.

“Oh nooooooooooo, Chance is defecting and heading over to Tod Andrews’ team!!!!!!!”
“Shit!!!!!!!!!!!! He’ll be stuck in that time warp like Tod was 30 years ago!!!!!!
Can you get the scriptwriter on the headset?”
“No, he took a personal day and is at The Bucket celebrating his grandkids’ birthday, Gil.”
“You don’t take a personal day on a coaching staff”
“Comic strip union rules, Coach.”
“DAMN. Where’s Charlie?????????”

In Gil’s personal water closet at his office
SHEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWEEEEEEEE, What did Coach have for lunch at the cafeteria??????? No wonder why there’s no roaches. That stench works better than Raid!!!!!! Oh, well, this mop oughta get rid of some of the residue in the commode-”
ROH!!!!!!!!!!!!! GET YOUR HELMET AND BE READY TO CHECK IN!!!!!!!!!!!! ON THE DOUBLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Late one night, after Grandma Macy reads Chance a bedtime story (“Rumpelstiltsken”)

“Now go to sleep. It was just a nightmare yesterday. I don’t know why Marty would be walking the streets of Milford, carrying an open casket of Dr.Pearl’s great-grandmother. I’m sure the way you describe it, she looked like a California Raisin that had suntanned too long but let’s close ours eyes and think happpy thoughts. Like when you body-slammed #53 on USWA Wrestling Saturday morning and won the Southern Tag Title from him and Freezer Thompson. Your tag partner, Jerry Lawler, bear-hugging you should send you right back to La La Land…”

Grandma Macy turns off the light

Suddenly, by the poster of Dominique Wilkins flushing on Hank Finkel in the 1987 Playoffs

BOOOOYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

Ok, so Charlie the Roh and Richie the C will not have to clean out Coach Shaw’s garage. Good thing, cuz there were a lot of National Geographic’s and Penthouse’s to sort through. Charlie the Roh can concentrate on nabbing Discovery One before it heads off to Jupiter. Richie the the C can call the game whenever Marty the Moon has to take a leak behind the booth. I just hope nobody’s down below.

And Chet will enter the discussion before too long. After all, when Richie the C was bombing out because he got Coach Thorp’s hair mixed up with Waylon Jennings’ pompadour, Richie the C needed reassuring

“Ladies and gentlemen, Gil is bombing out singing ‘Luekenback, Texas. That’s WAYLON??????? Oh my goodness, I better cut to a commercial break and slash my throat. Then have a heart-to-heart talk tonight with my dad like I have for 500 episodes. You’re listening to WDIG and this is Richie the C…”

Mr. C. will be there to console Richie in his room and make sure no razor-sharp spheres will fly out of the closet.

“Honey, he’s bombing out!!!!!!!! That’s the 3rd time they’ve cut him off at the line of scrimmage!!!!!!!”
“Oh, Chet. Not to worry. Gil has the situation well in hand. Gil’s the coach, you know.”
HOT DOGS PEANUTS CRAAAAAA-CKER JACK
“Oh, Mr.Vendor, gimme a foot-long!!!!!!!!! And he’s bombing out!!!!!!!!!!!!”

If ya shoot at Dis-kuv-eree One, thinkin’ it’s a Royal Canadian Snow Goose that got sidetracked on its way to Hudson Bay and it plops in your motorboat but ya still take ‘er to the taxee-dermist anyhoo cuz ya like how it looks on yore wall in the den, mountin’ the lite bulb of Hal 9400 next ta thet jaguar ya shot with only two shells in Bolivia, ya might be a redneck.

Now that the action is hot and heavy, will somebody tell Thorpiverse that Marty Moon is not Charlie Chan incarnate? Granted, this whole damn mystery wrapped inside of an enigma is getting to bea mystery but let’s let some sunlight in Marty’s eyes. Wouldn’t want him to ruin his retinas while Charlie the Roh is rippin’ long one.

Ah, but therein lies the problem and reveals Marty’s raison d’etre. A doubting Thomas wrapped in a bitchin’ booster who draws a paycheck because he embodies 5his persona in front of a microphone. Sorta like Pat Robertson railing against Satan while pretending to be Monty Hall. Let’s Make a Deal a hybrid with The 700 Club.

“Pat, I’ll give you $500 and what’s behind Door #3 if you’ll call off the deal and give me your soul.”

Ahhhhhhhhh, I went a little off the deep end but I think you grasp the concept.

One day in Gil’s office
“Tiki, it was just a bad dream. That cafeteria pepperoni pizza has been giving everybody weird dreams. No way was Tall Man toting a casket with my wife in it out of Hooverville. And Tall Man has a restraining order from the Milford Circuit while you’re staying at the Flemings. Relax.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

“Tall Man, how many times have I got to tell you to flush???? If you’re going to use my toilet, I’d appreciate it if you’d use Renuzit Raspberry. Tired of hearin’ it from Home Ec class down the hallway. And that’s the 5th roll you’ve used up!!!!!!! How many burritos did you eat at lunch??????”

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Richie The C Forced To Eat Bucket Fried Crow After Coach Kaz Gives Thumbs Down On Show!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I wouldn’t even dance to ‘Hot for Teacher and that’s my favorite song. Play it all the time during football scrimmage. Richie the C has gotten the big head.”

Okay, so you old-timers know what I’m talking about. Fonzie gave the thumbs down after Richie the C became Richie the Gil after his rising success was causing R the G to be a jerk.

But Charlie the Roh has to hit those holes if he’s ever giing to lead the Hit Parade on the dance floor at The Bucket. Nope, can’t spin “Boogie Wonderland” by Earth Wind & Fire if you can’t turn a 3-and-2 into a 70-yard sprint the way Chance does. Learn the moves of Barry Sanders, THEN be unable to fit through the janitor’s closet at The Bucket because of your enhanced ego and not even get your grandma to dance The Charleston while Eric Clapton’s “Tangled in Love” is on the turntable. First things first.

Remember when Potsie and Richie the C tried to get into this strip joint using fake ID’s? Weellllll

As Booby and Tiki step into the Milford Beverage Warehouse, nervous as Hell, the “Phantasm” theme playing mellifluosly after Hank Williams’ “Settin’ the Woods on Fire” got the Jose Cuervo buyers going in line in checkout lane #3

“You sure the Milford Printing Shoppe said they would go over with the clerk?”
“Like we just punched out of our shift at Milford Foundry.And they said the lamination was durable. They use recycled plastic from Mudlar-K-Cola 20 oz. plastic bottles.”
“Here we go. You got your Michelob Dark?”
” Yup. Got your Jack and Harley-Davidson Full-Flavored Menthols Crush-Proof 100 L-, damn, I know the Warehouse is getting desperate for new-hires and I know their Major Medical benefits package just isn’t enou-”
BOYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

And if this is isn’t a set-up for the obvious. Charlie Chan virtually saying that Clark Kent should have re-entered the battle at Gettysburg because he and Daniel Sickles would have torn through Pickett’s Charge with both legs blown off while George McClellan Roh would have rested his horses. No wonder why Lincoln asked the latter “Would you tell me what this plot has done lately that has fatigued the Mudlarks or horses of ANYTHING?” Lincoln was right. Thorpiverse is an admirable engineer but it has a special talent for the stationary engine.
Chance looks pretty inert in P3.

Which affords the opportunity for Charlie the Roh to pull a Richie the C on us. That’s right, again it’s pretty obvious. Charlie the Roh will run for 2000 yards, score 30 touchdowns, then sit at the teacher’s table at the cafeteria, eat Twinkies and hamburgers and tater tots with the teachers because he thinks he’s better than his peers. The students and parents, led by The Fonz, will refuse to come to the game, won’t even dignify his arrogance with those placards written in Cyrillic (“Beat Oakwood-They’re a buncha nuts” in the Serbo-Croat cheering section, oh my) .
These last 2 panels are just expressing themselves, aren’t they?

All right, Gang. It’s all yours. I apologize, I have been on the run all day for my dad. Now I know what Chance is running, er, going through.

“Oh, Howard, he’s bombing out. Somebody needs to hold his hand and tell he’ll do better in the future. That’s no way to tell him YOU SUCK. That fan needs to pull up his britches before the Milford Police arrives.”

“Marion, Richie’s holding his own. He has the Mudlarks eating out of his hand.”

“I was talking about Coach Thorp, Howard.”

“Okay, Jaime, time to go to bed. Tomorrow, I’ll teach you how to address the ball. Turn off your tape player and go to bed.”
“Let me finish this song after I get in my Underoos, Daddy. It’s overtime.”
Gil, realizing touche when he hears it, goes to the fridge for another Schlitz

“…you be daffy and I’ll be dilly,
we’ll go have 2 bowls of chili-”

BOOOOOYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY