This Week in Milford

March 6, 2019

Just Who Owes Who?

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Hey kids, guess what? I stumbled across some rare footage of Gil and Marty commuting to and from work! Here ’tis:

That would seem to be the dynamic at work here, but I suspect Gil doesn’t see it as so two-sided.  Since he is clearly of the opinion that he singlehandedly pulled Marty’s frijoles from the fire last basketball season, he likely believes he doesn’t owe Marty squat. That said he does recognize the need for Marty in his world, and acknowledged as much to WDIG’s station manager in a previous Kaffeeklatsch.

Still I imagine we’ll soon be treated to some version of “no, you still owe me, and B/Robby would’ve found a way to hang himself by his own rope with or without you.” Then it’s time to see how Mike Fillion self-medicated came out of his depression enough in time for baseball season.

metapost: Since tdrew and I swapped Wednesday and Thursday posts a while back, I’ve missed out on Rock ‘n Roll Thursdays. I want to interject a bit and light a candle for Sara Romweber, who lost her battle with cancer a few days ago. Sara laid down the beats for Mitch Easter’s jangle-pop in Let’s Active, and later formed Snatches of Pink and teamed up with her brother Dexter, previously with Flat Duo Jets, as a duo of their own. The Romweber kids played a part in the formative years of my musical tastes, and Sara’s passing comes as a reminder of my own mortality. So here, then, a musical candle.

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March 5, 2019

Will Milford And The NBA Be Contending For Basketball Ratings In June? Stay Tuned.

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HEY BOY. YOU’RE LOOKIN’ MIGHTY FINE IN THEM THERE GYM SHORTS. DON’T LOOK LIKE YA GOT ‘EM OUTTA THE LOST AND FOUND. NICE AND SOFT AND FLUFFY. USED PLENTY OF CLING-FREE, I CAN TELL. LIKE THE WAY THEY MOVE WHEN YOUSE ON A 3-ON-2 DRILL IN GYM. AND THAT JOCK STRAP BOUNCES UP AND DOWN LIKE MIMI’S BOOBS. BOY, GET YORE ASS OVER HERE AND F-

 

Nooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Filion, you okay?”

Filion wakes up. He’s been napping on his English Comp 203 book report, “Milford Horticulture at the Fin de Siecle”. He spots Gil at the desk up front, groggily remembering that Gil is supervising study hall.

“Uh, I’m fine.”

“Fair enough.”

Then Filion thinks twice.

“Coach, can I put my gym clothes in my hallway locker? I forgot I have to wash them this weekend.”

“We have washing machines.”

“I know, but my girlfriend got her toenail polish all over my gym shorts and my mom has some extra-strength Oxydol. It’ll help whiten my jock strap which got grass stains all over it.”

“How did you get grass stains on your jock strap?”

“I guess I got carried away during suicide drills.”

“Filion, we practice inside.”

Before Filion can answer, Gil stands up and bends over

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

“Filion, I was just picking up a paper airplane and throwing it in the garbage. Sure you’re OK?”

 

Gang, I’m going to the vaults again (bear with me while I’m on my soapbox) because Bobby is getting a royal smack-down and only a “Hit the road, Jack, and doncha come back no more, no more…” was necessary. Just hand him his luggage, give him a one-way ticket on the 2:30 ‘Hound out of the Milford Greyhound station and he’s a ghost of the past. Noooooooooo, we gotta drag this on 3 more panels with NO LIGHT at the end of the tunnel, let alone a basketball on the horizon. (Some flunky from the Nina “Cristafero, Cristafero, tierra!!!!!! tierra!!!!!!!!! Yo veo un basquetbol!!!!!!!!! Parace como un Spalding!!!!!!! Y los inhabitantes pueden Slam Dunk!!!!!!!”) While we’re admiring the crew of the Nina, Pinta, and the Santa Maria’s newly-found treasure (Wilson Basketballs are a premium in the Caribbean) , any of you old-timers remember the days of Berrill when some clown like Booby would get his justice in the 2nd panel then the 3rd panel was almost always an abrubt change of direction, more than likely baseball (“Think our pitching will hold, Gil?” “Depends, Tod” as beaucoup players are seen playing pitch-and-catch, pepper, make it, take it, square-dancing, playing Monopoly, Checkers, Twister, Charades, Uno, etc., all 402 players seen on the field at one time “If they don’t separate their shoulder from playing into July, we ougtha make the Playdowns. And I need Booby back to wash the uniforms or we’re gonna stink our way onto the Disabled List. Can he sneak through Rex Morgan over to Milford? Hell, me and Dr. Morgan look alike anyway, we both go to the same barber,  Booby can just say he’s studying to be a nurse under the doc’s tutelage until this thing blows over.”) . And it was just about ALWAYS headed with a “Meanwhile”.

Oh, not today. “Meanwhile” went the way of Booby’s billboards. You might see either back but the times, they are a-changin’. And I mean ta tell ya, Booby is getting the Jesus Christ Superstar treatment. Spit on, carrying his own cross while singing JUDAS’s song “Damned for All Time”, thank Heaven ‘Dig had the decency to let Judas hang from his own tree, otherwise

Soooooooooo long, Booby

Gooooooood ol’ Booby

 

So Booby was spared the eerie chorus singing Judas’ death knell even though in order to get his ‘Hound ticket, he still had to get 39 lashes AND permanent removal. THAT sucks. Of course, I wouldn’t be comin’ back in the studio with those kind of scars on me anyway. And still find out that Marty is still King of the Broadcasting Hill? Won’t go through Double Jeopardy with a 2nd crucifixion. Those Greyhound busses aren’t very comfy when your back looks like Chinese Checkers. And did you see Booby’s hands? DIE IF YOU WANT TO, YOU MISGUIDED PUPPET. That’s tellin’ ’em, Mr. Station Manager.

 

 

Big shout-out to Carol Kassady of New Albany, Indiana. She goes to work at Kroger with a vengeance because she loves her job. As a bagger, she is well-thought of as management and the customers like her courtesy domplete with a big smile on her face. Now that’s service. She also helps the store in other areas, keeping the grocery aisles well-stocked. No wonder why she’s busy. She just gets it done no matter where she’s at. Gang, the next time you’re inthe store on Chrlestown Road, treat her with respect. She’s earned mine.

 

 

 

 

 

HEY BOY. I LIKE THEM DOCKERS YOU GOT ON. THEY MATCH THE PRAIRIE-STYLE WINDOWS IN THE ROOM. AND YOU’RE A SMART COOKIE. YA BLOWED YORE ACT OUTTA THE WATER. YORE HARVARD, BOY. AND AFTER I GET DONE WITH YOUR FILE, I WANT YOU TO F-

Nooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

“Mike, are you Okay? Don’t you want to know what your SAT score was? Looks good from here. 672, verbal, and 602, math. And a couple of good schools have expressed interest based upon those scores. They’re down in this bottom drawer.”

Dr. Pearl bends down to the next-to-bottom drawer.

“Uh, if it’s okay, just call me later at home. My bus just pulled up.”

“Mike, the busses aren’t due for another hour. What’s wrong?”

“Who said anything about a school bus? There’s a Greyhound by the cafeteria entrance.”

 

How many faces does the Station Manager HAVE??????? He went from Chet Huntley the other day to an offbeat Dan Rather today. Does he always display a Chinese Mr. McGoo when he’s pretending to be Matt Dillon?

“Okay, Miss Kitty, that was a rotten thing you said about Jesse James, now it’s time you head out of Dodge by high noon tomorrow. Jesse can’t help it if he twitches when he’s holding up the Dodge City Bank. He gets a nervous tic every time someone reaches for his holster. Thank God the bank manager knew the combination to the safe.”

And as long as we’re going to endure another moratorium on basketball, oh, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, Thorpiverse, we get it, Mr. Station Manager a/k/a “Matt Dillon after he underwent a facelift at Milford Surgical Group” is talking about DON Rickles. I thought Gil Rickles was a bit out of place and Mimi is a female (Mimi Rickles?) and I could go through the Milford phone book and verify that we’re not discussing someone else but after viewing Jose Rickles, Vladimir Rickles, Ed Rickles, Mario de los Santos de nuestro Senor en El Cielo y Las Estrellas Rickles, I think I better stick with DON Rickles.

And anyone who knows or remembers him knows he gets his humor off of insulting people. He’s not my favorite comedian but I like his style nonetheless so I will therefore implement what I THINK Station Manager Dillon is getting at when he compares Booby with DON Rickles (ambitious though it may be)

“So, where do you see yourself a few years from now?”

“Look!!!!!!!! You hockey puck, can’t you shave any better than that? I have no idea where I might be but I won’t be lookin’ like a beatnik at 60!!!!!!!!!!! You? King in THIS town? What are you, MAYOR???? This town has more cows than basketballs, Mayor!!!!!!!! And who’s the schmuck that cuts Gil’s hair???? Does he always use a roller pin?????? And I saw the Play-Doh in the Station Managers office by his gin and tonic. The schmo mixes good stuff but he mixes his face too. Bad combo, you hockey puck!!!!!!!!!!! Does he date Mrs. Potato Head????? Are they going to enjoy Chili Fries at The Bucket?????? Boy, talk about eating with a cannibal. Tell Rubber Face not to put on after shave!!!!!!!!!!! How much time do I have left???? A minute!!!!!!!!!! Heck with it, I’m through with this town, there’s nothing to do, not even a basketball court to play on, you hockey puck…”

Just want to make sure Rubber Band Man a/k/a Station Manager is talking about the right guy. Elmer Fudd Rickles is the only other choice in the phone book.

 

 

HEY BOY!!!!!!!!! YOU’RE LOOKIN’ MIGHTY FINE IN THOSE LENSCRAFTERS, 4 EYES!!!!!!!!!! I LIKE THE WAY YA TRASH THE TOWN, CLOWN!!!!!!!!!! GIVES ME A BONER, BOZO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’M HORNIER THAN THE WOMEN AT BARNEY’S BOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’M HOTTER THAN A PEPPERONI FRESH OUTTA THE OVEN AT THE BUCKET!!!!!!!!!!! YOUR WATER BOTTLE AIN’T GONNA PUT OUT THIS FLAME, BOY!!!!!!!!!! YOU’RE TRAPPED IN THE STUDIO, SO YA MIGHT AS WELL F-

MOON!!!!!!!!!! Pull up your pants and fix the problem or YOUR ass is mine for another 2 weeks!!!!!!!!!!! You’re on in 30 seconds!!!!!!!! That loser left 15 minutes ago!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Yes, Boss.”

 

 

A big shout-out goes to Missy Nall as she rolled a spare and a strike at the bowling alley today. it was COLD today, gang, so getting out and about was an accomplishment in itself, much less doing well in bowling to boot. She was great to talk to today and I could tell she loved talking about her game. I’d call that pride, folks. America needs more of that. When you want to succeed as badly as you want to breathe, you will succeed and Missy proves that. She’s got my respect, gang. America salutes you, Missy.

 

 

 

And what the Hell is worth making basketball a possible sacrificial lamb for another few panels that Gil has to put on his jacket and head to God-knows-where for discussion on the Booby thing? Round 2 at Barney’s? Or are we gonna get slushy here and cry about Booby’s departure over several Michelobs??????? I don’t think The Bucket is really a wise venue but it’s their cash they’re toting in their wallets. Just seems talking about Booby in relation to ANYTHING next to a booth with a zit-faced 16-year-old chowing down on his Bucket Double Decker Cheeseburger is asking for trouble. Talk about “Silence is seldom misquoted.”

And what’s the point? The dude shoehorned his foot in his mouth and Rockville is mad as hornets right now and who can blame them????? If they DO go to The Bucket, just don’t announce it on WDIG. Rockville will be waiting in the corner booth, if not in the parking lot. Face it, Booby is toast, finished, kaput, outta here. Can’t set bail on this one, if that’s the intention and I wouldn’t put it past them, given the travesty of lack of basketball. You’re on a roll, Thorpiverse, stay on a roll.

 

“Meet me behind the alley at The Bucket. I got some info on Booby’s whereabouts.”

“Great. What about basketball?”

“Might take a little longer. Depends on when the NBA schedules the Quarterfinals.”

 

Today’s Women’s History Month entry goes to Carol Burnett. I have long loved her comedy and my sister just dotes on her. I can see why. Told she was taking a chance to start up a comedy/variety show back in the ’60’s as only men at that point had been successful inthat field, Burnett just did nothing but make ’em laugh as her show for several years racked up the Emmys, among other awards. She would have a question-and-answer time before the show, a way to show she still had her feet on the ground and the fans everywhere enthusiastically applauded the move. She was also a very talented actress, acting in “Pete and Tillie”, “Friendly Fire, “Annie”, getting nominted for Best Actress by Golden Globe Awards. She would always twitch her ear at the end of the show to remember her grandmother who egged her on for years and died during the show’s run. Also a very talented singer, ppease join me in saluting a woman who showed you could break the mold and be funny at the same time. You keep me in stitches, Carol Burnett.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Do you live a non-stop, work off the set of your pants, sex-crazed, take the kids to soccer practice on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday, turn those reports in tomorrow, Golf, hoping you beat Alice Cooper this one time, go-go lifestyle like I do? Is it sometimes hard to smell the roses so you just stick some incense in your car’s ash tray, light it with your Zippo, and just forget it? And what about that St. Patrick’s Day party comin’ up? Gonna skip shopping night cuz Jimmy Swaggart came into town for a one-night-only Holy Ghost, No Tiptoe Through The Tulips Religious Wimps Allowed, Talkin’-in-Tongues, Filled With The Holy Spirit, Baptism-by-Fire, Hell Fire ‘n’ Brimstone, Miracle Revival, Free Parking Included at the Milford Tabernacle?

Milford Beverage Warehouse is here to the rescue. Hi, this is Coach Thorp. Why do I need to go to the altar and have someone ram 10-15 hands on my head and I get a migraine when I can get truly blessed with my favorite brew? And I don’t need a Holy Joe tract for that one. What’s even nicer is that, through cooperation with Lyft and Uber, I can get up to a case of suds delivered right to my door step. Just call and have your order ready and be there at the time you specify and your order is there before you know it. Yeah, don’t take a quick leak or your kid might have to sign the papers. You might get stuck with a Jim Beam Coffee Tree Aged Premium Whiskey when you wanted a 24-pack of Drewery’s and 2 bags of Doritos Cool Ranch. Easier to share chips with the kids than a bottle of whiskey. My o My, a 15-pack of Miller Natural Light hits the spot when diagramming a matchup zone in the den, especially when the Domino’s driver comes at the same time with my 3 12″ Pineapple ‘n’ Pepperoni Pizzas and unleavened Breadsticks. Only bagels and lox go better with a Natural Lite. The Warehouse also accepts Visa and Mastercard. Good thing to know when you get cleaned out of finances because you got carried away grocery shopping at Wal-Mart. Believe me, Yours Truly is guilty of buying 10 Banquet Meat Loaf and Macaroni Dinners when he was only gonna buy 1, they were so damn cheap. And Mimi sometimes forgets to stay within the budget when she goes down the cereal aisle. We have more Life and Cocoa Puffs in the garage than booze, that’s for sure. And when Poker night extends until midnight, past the ante limit of $1000? Thank God my plastic is in the line of duty or in my wallet in my back pocket, whichever you prefer. Sorry, American Express is Booby right now, both totally unacceptable.

And they deliver everything under the warehouse. Yup, if you have a teetoteler at the party, they will deliver that gallon of Milford Dairies 2% Milk along with the 3 24 packs of Corona Extra, Seagram’s Escapes in the 12-pack mini-bottles, and 2 750 ml bottles of Old Kentucky Tavern, complete with chaser, compliments of Deer Park in the 2 liter bottles. Plenty of room in the trunk. And if you’re thinking of pulling off that annual bacchanalian orgy where everybody runs around the mansion butt naked with a bottle of booze in his or her hand, The Warehouse has gotcha covered. In cooperation with the Milford Transit Authority, busses will run non-stop to and from the mansion to your house. And they will deliver all the merchandise in one bus as desired. Grabbing a Smirnoff Vodka off the steps of the bus or opening the emergency door and plucking an Angry Orchard Hard Cider, man, a unique way to live The Good Life. And there’s a shuttle waiting for you after you’ve upchucked in the mansion courtyard after sipping Clos du Bois a bit too hasty.  Nice to know because once you’ve had your fill of some hog weighing 450 pounds and eating grapes and downing several ml of Korbel Summerville Park without a wine glass, you need someone to take you away from the madding crowd and home so you can punch into Milford Foundry at a respectable hour. By golly, sounds logical to me.

Folks, what are you waiting for? The friendly Lyft driver is ready to endow you with a slice of Paradise. Don’t hand the apple to your neighbor when you can take a bite yourself and not break the bank doing it. Call Milford Beverage Warehouse today. The Party is waiting to drive in your living room. Don’t be caught losing the remote.”

 

Gang, Have at it. If you see a guy hitchhiking at 3:00AM, I don’t think the Milk Man broke down in his truck. He doesn’t start deliveries for another hour.

 

HEY BOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU’RE LOOKIN’ MIGHTY FINE SLURPIN’ THAT SHAKE!!!!!!!!!!!! I LIKE THE WAY YOU WORK IT SLOWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND THEM BUFFALO FRIES, YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’M LIKE FIDO IN HEAT EVERY TIME YOU ROLL YOUR MOUTH, ESPECIALLY WITH THAT KETCHUP ON YOUR CHIN!!!!!!!!!!!!! CAN’T WAIT FOR SOME BURGER ACTION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SPEAKIN’ OF MEAT, GET YO’ ASS OVER HERE AND F-

Noooooooooooooooooooooo

“What’s Filion’s problem?”

“Dunno. I just took his order and I turned around to pick up a quartere somebody dropped from the juke box and he just freaked.”

February 9, 2019

I’m from the psychologist’s office and I’m here to help

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It’s been a very long day for yhs and I have a sneaking suspicion that however I choose to snark today’s strip, it’ll already have been done to death on the Curmudgeon. With that in mind…

Time moves slowly in the Valley. Milford may be 1959 with cell phones, but in Tilden they whip out their 143-year-old campaign posters to decorate the gym.

Wow, will ya look what a little counseling – or just the promise of counseling – will do.  Just like that shortstop-in-waiting Filion has turned into Mr. Helper. Even with Gil having benched the four failed wannabe billboard defacers, the Filion-driven Mudlarks are putting the Tildenites away in short order.

Meanwhile Marty thinks he’s being witty by labeling Marcell Ledbetter Irby the “stovepipe sophomore,” which conjures up imagery of Ralph Sampson, Chuck Nevitt or Manute Bol. His face tells another story, revealing the unfolding, horrifying realization that a winning Gil Thorp-coached team will destroy the Marty n’ B/Robby Show’s raison d’être. Not to fear, o soused sportscaster: Milford only wins when other teams have either thrown in the towel or benched their starters to rest them for the playdowns.

December 19, 2018

Warriors! Come out to play-ay!

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The Arapaho(e) are a Native American tribe of the Great Plains. Arapahoe High School, near Denver, unfortunately made national news almost five years ago to this day for a shooting which left one student dead and the shooter taking his own life.

Well, after that bit of cheer to start off our day, let’s dive in to the traditional Mouseketeer Roll Call of the roster.  This time it’s Marty who’s doing the roll call, as it appears that Marjie whipped out the pepper spray on Gil once he started becoming too much of a close talker.  “Sorry, Mr. Coach Thorp, mediocre may be good enough for Mrs. Coach Thorp, but it’s not good enough for me.”

Marginal Mike Filion and Nosey Parker Andre Ruffin form the backcourt. The starting forwards are seventh-year senior Paul Beaudry and – wait, what?  Is Jorge Padilla still in Milford?  How did Marty pronounce his name? (I’m guessing correctly given Moon’s chastened, pissy look on his face.)  Have the Padillas not moved back to Puerto Rico or at least Georgia?  Rubin dropped the ball bigly on the Padilla story last winter, and I doubt he’ll be picking it up again now.

Nope, my guess is that when we’re not delving into the mystery of Two Billboards Outside Milford or watching Filion having me time in his bedroom, we’ll get some minor focus on “scrawny,” “lanky” center Marcell Irby (thanks to whom I can’t stop thinking of Jerry Clower, which probably says more about me than Rubin) and his struggles in the paint.  Burly Rick Soto will probably sub for Marcell after he gets banged around and Milford will lose any height advantage it may have had.

Arapahoe’s sports teams* are called the Warriors, a perfect setup for Milford’s nerdy cutesy snarky student body.  Maybe Ernie from My Three Sons and the Milford Pirate Network can lead the fans in the chant.

 

 

 

 

*Colorado high school basketball teams participate in playoffs, not playdowns.

November 15, 2018

“Go Ahead. Get Rid Of This Plot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

 

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

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

“Yes?”

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

“May I help you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As Gil blows smoke on his Magnum.

 

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

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

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

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

 

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

BLAAAAMMMMMMMMMM

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

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

BLAAAMMMMMMMMMMMM

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

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

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

“WHATTTTTTTTTT!!!!!?????????”

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

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

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

BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMMMM

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

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

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

BLAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

 

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, do you?”

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

“Hey”

Dirty Harry turns around.

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

Harry obliges.

Click

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

 

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

 

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

“Oh, brother, I should have known.”

 

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

“Go ahead. Make my day.”

September 20, 2018

I Saw My Life Sail Through My Hands And Get Recovered At The 3-Yard Line

Filed under: actual action, football, Gil Thorp, Marty Moon, Pissy faced Marty — tdrewhardin @ 4:45 pm

Dad, you’re 80 years old today. You are a major reason for this blog. Thanks for all your encouragement in ANYTHING I’ve set out to do. I love you.

092018

P1: “Coach, remember the time when you said that if you had broccoli in your teeth, you’d want to know about it?”

Which typifies the aborted inspiration Coach Thorp attempts to instill in his players. The only problem is, and maybe it’s just me, but don’t you old-timers remember  when Gil was going the Dr. Norman Vincent Peale Power of Positive Thinking Route, the player(s) would perform something that may not have been drawn up in the playbook nor, really, went the way of the Thorpscript but turned out halfway decent? Now it just seems like every time Gil dispenses his Pearls of Wisdom, it reads like a bad Kung-Fu episode.

“Grasshopper, you have nothing to fear from the 458-lb. defensive tackle that you’re blocking this Friday. Just remember your technique, hit him low, and tell him his mother still reads him bedtime stories. Talk trash to him and you can take him out of his game.”

“Yes, Master.”

SQUASHHHHHHHHHHHH

“Watch where you’re driving that equipment truck. Now we’ll never find him in this high grass.”

And, again, maybe it’s just me(what happens when you develop writer’s cramp in your old age) but do we really need another Polygrip Moment as in P1? I know Gil is 60 years old but if he’s been drinking milk and eating his fruits and vegetables and, in general, been a poster child for the 4 food groups, then, unless his teeth were made out of balsa wood, they should still BE IN PLACE. Otherwise, why does he feel the need to flash those dentures to Freddy or the zombies in the background?

“He won’t suffer any more embarrassing incidents, such as watching his teeth pop out of his mouth and land on the sod when he jumps up and down after his place kicker sends the winning 69-yarder through the uprights. Try the new Polygrip with Fluoride. Occlusive seals never felt stronger and grass stains are a thing of the past. Only at Milford Pharmacy.”

 

The Milford Police are still baffled by WHO SHOT COACH SHAW. You’d think in a small town that’s been on the planet for 60 years where EVERYBODY KNOWS EVERYBODY in the same period of time that the culprit would have nowhere to run. Well, that’s not entirely true, if I were to shoot a man who barely shows up on the radar at football games but is a weather advisory at game film sessions (The National Weather Service has issued a Shaw Warning Advisory  in effect until 10:15PM this evening, Mudlark Standard Time. There are reports of damaging winds and BB-sized hail. Power lines, as a result of  multiple lightning incidents are down in parts of Oakwood, New Thayer, Lake Forest, as well as the Mudlarkland viewing area. Please seek shelter immediately…”) , I would head to the nearest skyscraper in downtown Milford and lay low on the 63rd floor of the Milford Mutual Tower until this thing blew over. And that’s probably what this psycho is thinking. No headin’ to the Milford Lounge for Miller time after the deed is done.

 

At the bar counter “Mr. Bates, wanna ‘nuther Bud before I close up?”`

Coach Shaw at the Bates Motel

The shower curtain opens

DINGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!! DINGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!! DINGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!

“NO GET AWAY FROM ME YOU GONNA PUNISH ME CUZ I MISSED A FILM SESSION I HAD TO GO THE DENTIST…”

“Honey, wake up, it’s me. You were having a bad dream. You’re fine, Dear, I’m here. Come, jump on me and let’s have snack to (talking sexy) chase away that leetle ol’ bad dreamie.”

DINGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!! DINGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!! DINGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!!

NO GET AWAY FROM ME YOU CAN’T STICK ME JUST CUZ I CAN’T STICK YOU YOU GONNA PUNISH ME FOR GOIN’ LIMP JUST CUZ I CHOWED ON TOO MUCH ON 3 PASTA SALAD AT FAZOLI’S WISH I HAD MY WINCHESTER IN THE BATHTUB…”

 

And to address bathrooms in public buildings with stalls that have become as big as a dining room suite

“Gil, we can get a graduate assistant to work on Malouf’s hands. He’s definitely not hopeless.”

“I agree, Kaz, looking at the game film here, I saw a lot of positives. He and Finn-

FLLLLLLLLLLLUUUUUUUUUUSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Coach Shaw appears

“Oooooooooooooeeeeeeeee, man, was THAT a big-time load. Musta been the spicy parmesan in the Domino’s pepperoni.”

 

And what Gil Thorp strip in any sport, football, basketball, baseball, hockey, bowling, wrestling (HIGH SCHOOL wrestling, not the stuff you see down at the Milford Gardens, you Jerry Lawler freaks) track, X-country, volleyball, golf, curling (just seeing if you’re paying attention) , without Marty Moon enjoying his Lowenbrau Moment (take that over Polygrip Moment anytime) ?

I can see the commercial

“Here’s to good friends, tonight is kinda special…”

Marty and his old high school classmates cram into Marty’s broadcast booth. As long as nobody throws a quick elbow, the Lowenbrau won’t wind up in the cheese popcorn.

“Gentlemen, watching Gil get waxed just makes my night. It just don’t get any better than this.”

“That’s Old Milwaukee, Marty.”

“Don’t rain on my parade, Gene. Anytime I can stick it to Coach T with a kicker with a World Cup foot but Yogi Bear hands, it just makes the Lowenbrau that much sweeter.”

“Yeah, and it’s less filling.”

“Tastes great.”

LESS FILLING

TASTES GREAT

LESS FILL-

As Marty squeezes one of his classmates in a Sleeper Hold, we softly hear

“Toniiiiiggghhhhttttt, let it be Lowenbrau.”

 

Sent forth on a quest from TV Land

Bringing Truth and Justice in our hands

It’s Milkmannnnnnnnnn

 

Milkman walks into Milford Lounge. He just made a delivery of two crates of 2% and some Philadelphia Cream Cheese Raspberry and Philadelphia Cream Cheese Gooseberry. Happy Hour is never the same without something to top the appetizer, like pretzels or shredded black ham. He’s taking his 15-minute break.

Marty is submerged in his beer. Talk about Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea.

“Why are you drowning in your sorrows, Marty?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

“Look, I’m in no mood to talk to a guy who’s as out of place here as a stray dog in heat at the AKC International Dog Show. Take your milk and cookies and hit the road, Jack.”

“Actually, Marty, I did bring some Chips Ahoy and some egg nog. I’m still on break so technically the bartender can’t say anything.”

Tired of drinking after his 17th Bud Light

“I got suspended for swearing on the air.”

“Well, Marty, saying ‘Die, you gravy-sucking, testicle-licking, ass-kissing, pubic hair-combing piece of cow manure wasn’t the wisest thing to say. But I was once suspended for two weeks.”

Marty looks up. Milkman is winning him over.

“That’s right, I was released from my duties for telling the supervisor in front of several members of the 3rd shift crew on the Country Crock Cinnamon Butter production line that the milk  was so bad here, there was no difference between that and what came out of an elephant’s boobs in Rwanda at the Nature Reserve. I was young and stupid and without a paycheck for two weeks. Hard to pay the pawn shop for a Gibson Guitar, let alone buy Fruit of the Looms at K-Mart when you have no money. Marty, we’ve all put our feet in our mouths. Maybe you need a shoehorn every once in a while, oh, OK, every week, but we have all said things we wish we could reel back later. Yours is just a 60-lb. striped bass that requires a tow truck to haul in on The Fishing Channel. That’s the only difference. Plus, I don’t wear a goatee. Homogenized milk would look nasty on it.”

“Gee, thanks, Milkman. I’ll go get a gallon of regular milk and apologize to Gil for being such a nasty creep. I’ll even throw in that I shouldn’t have called Mimi a prostitute.”

“Aaaaaaaaa, Marty, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. It’s taken 60 years to wean yourself from your SNAKE nomenclature. It might take 60 more ’til it’s out of your system but you’re getting the idea..

“Awright, Mister, you’re ruining business. Buy a Falls City or scram.”

“Sorry, bartender. Would you like some Philadelphia Cream Cheese Hazelnut before I go?”

 

 

Heard at the Milford Adult Book Store between two employees during a dead period (Mondays are always like that)

“You think it was David Greene?”

“He might have attacked Marty Moon that one time but Shaw’s performance was on the Sabbath.”

 

At the Milford Kohl’s, Marty Moon is trying on some Dickie pants. He’s attempting to find out if he’s gained any weight or grown any since he switched from WMFD to WDIG (“Marty, I swear, you’ve grown since you transferred. You ever think of trying out for the team?”) .

He is currently debating 42/32 or 40/38. His growth spurt perhaps out of control from all the Pabst Blue Ribbons at the Milford Lounge (Milford Enquirer, May 15, 2011 article: “Beer Drinking Stimulates Pituitary Gland, Releasing Growth Hormones, Studies Reveal at the Milford Community College!!!) . He tries on the 42.

There’s a hitch. The problem with dressing room doors is that they’re manufactured from the same company that produces saloon doors. Marty’s dressing room door is created from the same design of the door of the saloon Wild Bill Hickok died at from “Dead Man’s Hand”.

“PEEKABOO!!!!!!!!!!”

“Peaches, dammit!!!!!!! Can’t you see I’m dressing??

“Oh, you sexy tart, that’s THE IDEA. I thought we might get a little comfy before you try on any more Richards.”

“Dickies.”

“Whatever, same name, different sex organ, but gets us both erect, that’s all that matters.”

“Peaches, I gotta get my uniforms tried on before I hit the nightshift tonight. Can’t it wait until tomorrow morning? I’ll still have a little octane in the tank before I hit the sack.”

“But someone might sugar your engine, sweetie pie. Come, come, the clerk will understand two adults need for a little fun at the playground.”

“Doll, I’m not rumblin’ at the jungle gym where the kids can see me butt naked.”

“Oh, Marty, don’t be a party pooper. Life is more than Mini-bus manifests and beer nuts at the Milford Lounge, let alone going up and down at the teeter-totter with members of the same sex, even if you’re both butt-naked. Now drop ’em and let’s have a little fun,”

She rips the pants button off the unpaid merchandise only to find out that something else is unaccounted for.

“Ummmmm, never mind.”

“Peaches, you barge in like Jesse James holding up the Last Gulch Saloon and now you just pack u[ and leave with no loot?”

“I’m surprised he didn’t shoot you cold dead with no gold in the vault.”

“Honey, I’m harder than a rock and I’m not even trying. Why don’t you make yourself at home as long as you’ve wrecked my schedule.”

“Kinda hard when you’re not hard.”

“How dare you stiff me like that when I’m trying to do my job?”

“You could bust out of this saloon door and not only would no one notice the dearth of stiffness, you wouldn’t have ANY jobs, payroll or non-payroll.”

The manager walks by

“Is there a problem here? Oh, it’s you, Marty. I see that it’s nothing at all.”

“Rest my case.”

 

“When you can’t get embarrassed when you’re displaying nothing in your birthday suit, it’s time to hit the Milford Men’s Clinic. They have programs that work, now including Milford Men’s Clinic Quik-Fix Pump injections to avoid those awful surprises like the one I had. I’d rather spend a night at Peaches’ mother’s house. ALONE. Isn’t it time you filled your Dickie pants with more than just pants? So that it’s more than just a pun? Sure you do. My britches feel fine and I do do too. You’re gonna like the way you look. And pump. I guarantee it.”

 

Comment away, gang. Don’t let the opportunity slip through your fingers.

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Men’s Warehouse Sues Marty Moon Over Unlawful Infringement Of Their Slogan.”

sub headline

“Sharkey Refuses Case. Received a ‘D’ in Copyright Law and Patents at the Richard M. Nixon Law School at Milford Community College, According to a Report.”

 

TALK ABOUT THE SAME OLD STORY

TO EVERYONE THAT SHE KNOWS

SHE’S JUST SITTIN’ IN A ROOM

WITH BOOKS ABOUT UFO’S

In the den at the Thorp household

“Mimi, you didn’t tell me you were into Carl Sagan

 

Off of (warned ya, gang) Husker Du’s “New Day Rising”, in case anybody’s interested.

Thanks, timbuys, for the insert. You da Man. This just made my day. Enjoy, gang, and thank Tim while you’re at it. He’s VERY creative.

September 7, 2018

Take any Tiki!!

Filed under: Coach Kaz, freak hands, Gil Thorp, hands in the air, Pissy faced Marty — robmize2013 @ 7:43 pm

Apologies to the late Vincent Price for the title of todays post– in the Brady Bunch episode where they went to Hawaii and the boys run into him playing a professor who then ties them to the tikis in his cave; when he lets them loose and then tells them to return to them they randomly pick one and he then yells  “Take any tiki!”

Well there is no human named Tiki Jansen on Google but apparently he’s the potential starting QB for the Larks this year. So he aint any Tiki thats for sure. Marty takes the low road in P1, suggesting that if they dont have an all-star at the position, they are screwed. Maybe, but even if they arent, Gil will find a way to make it so, either by changing the offense mid-season or by under-coaching the rest of the unit so they cant function as one.

P2- is Gil comparing Tiki to a lottery ticket? Hmmm.. methinks he’s suggesting he knows damn well he got lucky in some way and its not one iota from his good coaching.

P3– Gil, what did cross your mind? Besides spiked lemonade and made-up golf tourneys?

April 22, 2018

Vaya con carne, Martín Luna

gt04212018

This has to have gone down as the Gil Thorp arc with the least amount of actual sports action ever. It also has to be near the top of arcs requiring the greatest suspension of disbelief. On top of all we’ve had to choke down around Marty, Pirate Boy and the Milford Pirate Network (does one station constitute a network?), now we’re supposed to believe that WDIG has at least three studios? Couldn’t at least one of them held Marty’s substitute, re-creating the basketball games Ronald Reagan style while Marty was suspended?

Marty played his traditional role of designated heel, between making light of the Padillas’ life situation, the gratuitous Mexican food references (intended to woo a potential sponsor but interpreted as “Puerto Ricans/Mexicans are all alike and their cultures all the same”) and the mispronunciation/pissy over-pronunciation in response to criticism. But really, Gil doesn’t come off as much less of a schmuck either. True, he couldn’t have anticipated the tack the MPN took on covering Milford hoops – nor Marty’s blue response to them – but he did in effect goad them on to goad Marty on. His ham-handed efforts at negotiation showed how little he thinks of Milford girls’ basketball and required us to connect the dots and assume Marty’s suspension would turn into termination if Marty didn’t accede.

Finally, Gil’s little dig at Marty in the last panel (yet another in which characters depart via a doorway), meant to remind Marty of the Boricua culture of which he is so ignorant, comes off a bit dickish as well. I’ll admit I like the idea of Marty as Scooby-Doo villain, but wouldn’t that mean he’s actually somebody else under a rubber mask? My money’s on Dr. Pearl.

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