This Week in Milford

December 10, 2019

Alexa, It’s Pretty Sad When I’m Bored When The Story Is Only Six Panels Old.

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I remember her well. She lived on an island off the coast of Mudlark Lake. Her name was Dorothy Pearl or Dr. Pearl for short. I never thought I’d be non-coaching for her several years later.

She said she was 1,187 years old. She held her age well. Hermie Shaw and Oscy Kaz used to make fun of me every time her name was brought up. A few examples:

“Geez, this Bucket Double Bacon Burger tastes like it’s been in the oven for days. Did Dr. Pearl light a camp fire there?”

“Damn, my book report’s due!!!!!!!!! If I wait until the Treaty of Westphalia, it’ll be late!!!”    “Isn’t that the year Dr. Pearl was born?”

“Why did Coach Thorp call a pass play on the 1-yard line? Is Dr. Pearl calling the plays from Versailles Palace?”

You get the idea.

 

“This Bucket Chili Dog has seen better days. I wouldn’t wrap a condom around this loser and have sex with-”

“SEE, HERMIE, I told you Gilby has a thing for Dr. Pearl!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A 15-year old virgin is going to have his way with an older woman!!!!!!!!!!! Tell me, Gilby, how was it when Dr. Pearl went in Napoleon’s tent? Did she like it?”

The story sucked

And football’s gone

I wretched all night

It went too long

Chance is cleared

He did no wrong

 

And when it was over

We never saw much to brag about

Against Valley Tech

Much less the season in toto

 

Chet’s in reform

His wife has warned

 

Gang, I’m sorry, P1 is starting this whole daggone story on the wrong foot ALREADY and I ain’t gonna do another Summer of ’42 rendition after basketball, assuming that’s the bill of fare, something that’s been the bill of fare the last 60 years and counting. It’s hard for me to imagine Alexa hittin’ the weights hard so she can be the Milford High School Girls’ Darts champion sponsored by Milford Lounge.

 

She throws her darts

With deft aplomb

She nearly missed

Moon’s glass of rum

Gil is concerned

Ate tons of Tums

 

Well. it needs a little sprucing but that’s as far as I’m going. For now, anyway.

 

Because I really don’t understand why the man in the car with Kentucky license plate 331 VBD used hate to get his point across at Papa John’s on Lower Hunters Trace and Dixie Highway in Louisville early this morning

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Neo-nazi Camp In Rural Milford Shut Down By Milford Health Board After Injury To One Of Its Members!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Safety concerns raised after member’s head was caught in the toilet in the outhouse after head-plunging procedure was going great guns.”

 

At the Milford Recording Studio, taping an advertising jingle for Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage

 

“Ahhhhhhhhh, Baby,

This meat is full of taste

And it’s ALL FOR YOU

 

Sit yo ass down and do

WHAT YOU GOT TA DO

 

Eat your ass blind

And experience Heaven’s

MASTERPIECE

 

No, no, don’t leave Gil this way

No, don’t leave Gil this way…”

 

“Anybody get a hold of Thelma Houston yet? I’m not getting my butt in the sling over copyright infringement”

 

Hi Crystal. I see you at Jeff Smith Marathon in Edwardsville, Indiana. She and Bre(like “key”) are two VERY friendly people who greet the customers with the utmost courtesy and respect. Throw in mechanics who get the job done as attested by all the cars that fill up the parking lot (BUSY) on the property and you have a whale of abusiness. But don’t take my word for it. Take Exit 118 off of I-64 in Indiana, head to 62 West and it’s the first road to your LEFT as you leave the freeway. You’ll see the business. Great gasoline, great prices, great mechanics. Gang, I think you catch my drift. Catch it at Jeff Smith Marathon and say hello to Crystal and Bre. You’ll be VERY glad you did.

 

WHAT is that thing in P2, splitting the girls? Is it that gigantic door from 2001: A Space Odyssey? I don’t see any apes around, at least none from the football team and the one ape that was making a spectacle of himself during football is at some marriage  enrichment seminar with his wife (Assuming she still claims Chet of the Jungle) . I’m still trying to adjust my eyes trying to translate Vulcan while going in the out door or going out the in door, same difference. Well, like Joe Walsh said, being a student at Milford High School is living a Life of Illusion. No better example than P2.

I don’t THINK that the obelisk wannabe is something anybody prays to five times a day. I was under the impression that Muslims pray towards Gil’s office that many times (“Surrender to the Will of Gil and accept Coach Kaz as his Prophet.”)

Oh, I KNOW (slaps head). It’s a stoplight. The hallways in the M.C. Escher hallways can get a little confusing. Helps to have Big Brother the Traffic Cop to sort it all out.

 

“Aw, C’mon, Gilby. Mimi really likes you. Hermie tried to make out with her and she said she only dates guys who referee her girls’ 5-game schedule. And I know you’re patched cuz I heard you scored a 92 on the open-book exam. You can’t keep fantasizing about Dr. Pearl forever.”

“Who are you going to make out with, Oscy?

“Marcia Brady!!!!!!!!!!! I heard she is really hot-to-trot after Alice the Maid showed her a few moves. Used a scrub brush to get her point across.”

That summer, I gained my manhood. We would marry 47 years later but making out behind the tackling dummies was more fun than a barrel of Nerf footballs used in the previous plot while Oscy and Marcia had some fun in the equipment shed, making sure the door was deadbolted so Luhm wouldn’t come in to fix the riding mower blades. Hermie had to settle for Dr. Pearl’s great-great-great granddaughter. He may have had to return her by the 8:00 curfew so she could finish her multiplication tables but he did get a kiss out of her. On the lips.

As for Dr. Pearl, watching her boobs press through her blouse while she was loading boxes in the attic was exhilarating. It was a little like observing gigantic prunes that the Jolly Green Giant eats for breakfast hanging through Kaz’s hammock but still exhilarating. The roar of Mudlark Lake bespoke her mystique. Her beehive bun came from Never Never Land.

 

And if we have to endure one more stinkin’ bad plot, we’ll be grumbling more than 3 times a week, rest assured.

 

Big shout-out to Thelma Houston. A very classy woman whose hit “Don’t Leave Me This Way” still rings true as it did when it hit the charts big back in 1977. Never one to rest on her laurels, she is still recording to this day and has acted in several movies and TV shows. I don’t know about you, Gang, but when a person still wants to keep performing even after she hit the Big Time, it is my humble opinion that that’s what makes a STAR. I salute you, Thelma, and hope you keep up the good work.

 

Gang, if I see one more Marcia Brady at 17 visage as in P3, I’m demanding my money back. I’ve already gotten refunded after returning a moldy Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage Flame-Broiled to Milford IGA, but I can always get another one out of the bunker, the ones next to the George Jones Old Fashioned Breakfast ‘n’ Bed Sausage. We can’t get another plot. Football proved the futility of that particular venture.

I was really working up my courage on a dare from Hermie and Oscy. Hermie Shaw had already disappeared like he always does when football season is approaching its climax. Asking for his mom’s Nair evidently was a bit too embarrassing. Surely the druggist at Milford Apothecary knew his mom shaved her legs.

At any rate, at the Milford Apothecary for Round Two

“May I help you?”

“Do you all sell banana splits?”

“Nope. The Bucket down the street does. Do you need directions?”

“No, that’s all right.”

Well, here goes

“I would like CruexJockItchmedicine100jockstrapsacoupleoffootballhelmetssomeLifesavers10rubbers5atheleticbandages534boxesofBand-AidssomehydrgenperoxideinthejanitordrumsizesoScottwillquitbitchingandapartridgeinapeartree.”

“We’re out of Lifesavers.”

“Do you have everything else?”

“Sure. Give me 15 minutes. My help had to make a delivery to Dorothy Pearl. Had to drop off her Ex-Lax.”

“No problem.”

Whew, that was easy. I couldn’t wait to see the looks on Hermie’s and Oscy’s face. Now I could go all the way with Dr. Pearl. Hermie would leave in defeat but you heard that before. Oscy would be able to buy rubbers and earrings with ease several decades later but by then he would be my assistant. And the druggist cheerfully came back

“Here you are. Have a nice day.”

“Gee, thanks. Oh, BTW, WHERE’S THE RUBBERS?”

“They’re underneath the football helmets, nice and neat.”

“Oh yeah. Sorry. Thanks, Mr. Druggist.”

“No problem. Hope she’s fun.”

 

So much for trying to sneak one past somebody. But I still had Hermie and Oscy with egg all over their faces. That’s what mattered for the moment.

 

Gang, I could be wrong but ol’ Foghorn here thinks Marcia Brady is tryin’ to execute a funny. It would HELP if we knew what the Hell she was talking about. I know what Watson the Supercomputer is, the IBM wunderkind, but WHAT IS IT REFERRING TO? We’ll have to toil through several more panels to get the joke? After several days, if Alexa’s weight training pays off by being able to lift Deep Blue off the ground with her index finger while holding a conversation with Marcia Brady about boys, the funny will have fulfilled its mission.

 

If ya gotta go to Milford A-poth-a-carry cuz ya is in-breedin’ once again with yore kid sister after ya got inta an argument over how many Tinker Toys got distributed to yaz both, b ut ya gotta hit the A-poth-a-carry once agin cuz ya ran out of pro-teck-shun, ya might be a redneck.

 

Because I’m still in bewilderment over these ads promising hardness for HOURS

 

While Coach Shaw has a problem on the Serta Love Sofa in the garage

“Hermieeeeeeee, it’s time to come to bed!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Come on down and do what ya got ta do!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“I can’t, Dear. I’m stuck between the cushions!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Honey, don’t leave me this way. Now quit trying to pretend you have a problem and let’s have some fun.”

“I’M NOT KIDDING!!!!!!!!!!!! That Erec-9000 Vita-Plus Medicine sold by Milford Men’s Clinic was good as advertised. They weren’t kidding when they said she’d love you like a rock for hours!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I didn’t think I’d be stuck like a rock for hours!!!!!!!!! I can still get to my beer!!!!!!”

“Hermie, you’ve come up with some excuses before to not have sex with me but you had me fooled on those. I’m not buying this one. My heart is full of love and it’s all for you!!!!!!!!!!”

“And this LOVE SOFA IS FULL OF ME!!!!!!!!!!!!! Quick!!!!!!! I think that old See-Saw is behind the tool bin!!!!!!!!!!! Get it out and pry me loose!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Hermie, If I leave YOU THIS WAY, you won’t have any carnal knowledge. Now stop making things up and hold my hand.”

“I can’t even hold my significant other, let alone get up from it!!!!!!!!! Did you ever try to stand up while your stomach’s on top of a flagpole?????”

“I salute you for your brilliant evasive technique-”

“Well, it’s either you criticize my lack of imagination for excuses or you can have anal sex. There’s an obvious problem with that.”

 

“Well, doggie, you can imagine the dilemma I was in. I didn’t want my wife to leave me but I didn’t know how to get down from Mt. Everest. But she FINALLY got the See-Saw if I promised to use the Erec-9000 on our second honeymoon.

But y’know, that’s a pleasant problem because I did get down and do I what I gotta do right on that Love Sofa. We just made sure to avoid the gaps in the sofa and Sexual Elixir was at a premium. Come buy a slice of your own troubles at Milford Men’s Clinic where your problems begin once your erectile problems end.”

 

Go at it, Gang. My money is on a week before we find out when the Supercomputer funny is grasped. Isn’t that when Looney Tunes comes on?

 

Gilby comes to Dr. Pearl’s retreat house on Mudlark Island. The whippoorwill is faintly heard in the distance.

He enters.

No one is in the living room. There’s a note on the coffee table

“Dear Doctor Pearl,

We regret to inform you that your husband was killed in action at the Second Battle of Bull Run-”

 

“Hi, Gilby.”

“Hi.”

“I’m sorry, I’m a mess.”

“For 1800 years, you look fine”

“I don’t think I do.”

 

Dr. Pearl heads to the kitchen

“I’m sorry”

Dr. Pearl turns around

Gilby and Dr. Pearl embrace and slow-dance to the Summer of ’42 Theme. The Summer Knows. More than it cares to know in this plot.

Dr. Pearl leads Gilby to the bedroom. Like watching a petrified tree undress, they finally come to bed. And Gilby is enjoying his Second Manhood.

“I think you should go now, Gilby.”

 

She left me a letter later

“Dear Gilby, I had a wonderful time that night. You didn’t need Vita-Plus to enjoy me and I thank you for that.

I hope good things and only good things happen in your life. I am leaving, never to return until I become Principal. It’s a pity that football didn’t leave sooner but sometimes you don’t win Antietam. But you’ll win the war, Gilby. Just not the football games. It’s been nice knowing you.”

And so my days in the Summer of ’42 were in a reverie, a block of events I rue I cannot bring back. We all went on to bigger and better things and football sank in the South Pacific. Sometimes poetic justice has a way of turning its vengeful head. But my boyhood was rewarding and taught me that you could disappear after you had the time of your life. I had Dorothy Pearl to thank for that. Now basketball awaits, belated so. There might be another Dorothy at the free throw line. One can hope.

December 7, 2019

Good Ol’ Blow Top

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Mudlarks chowin’ down on sloppy joes
Runnin’ the two-a-day drills
Then Sam Finn passed out and had to go
Whose fault? Sure wasn’t Gil’s
Junior Mudlark tailback Charlie Roh
Had the job in his hat
Got showed up by some old sophomore
That was the end of that
“Blow Top, you’re gonna be
Totin’ the rock for me
Good ol’ Blow Top
Blow Top Chance Macy
Blow Top Chance Macy”
Charlie’s dad tried to derail Blow Top
Diggin’ for bones in his past
The trail he left, they didn’t need a cop
It bit him in the ass
Chance’s fits of rage called “Blow Top”
His backstory is weird
Livin’ with his gram and grandpop
So-called parents? Disappeared
Blow Top, you’re gonna be
Treated by Charlie
Good ol’ Blow Top
Blow Top Chance Macy
Blow Top Chance Macy
Ballard’s in the doghouse with his wife
Didn’t have to make it so hard
Now his credit’s gonna take a dive
Charlie’s got his gold card
“Blow Top, Can’t you see?
Tonight’s tabs are on me!
Good ol’ Blow Top
Let’s hit Ricozzi’s
Let’s hit Ricozzi’s
Let’s hit Ricozzi’s!”
(apologies? No apologies; this song makes me want to throw something sharp)
metapost: Dunno what’s gone wrong with my spacing, or why the YT clip isn’t showing. Maybe it’s time for me to hang it up.
Fixed!* – TimP
* Well, not the line breaks. Not sure what’s going on there. 

December 4, 2019

“The bad thing is, no one under 40 cares about this strip.”

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Reading today’s strip is a lot like buying house brand groceries. The ingredients are the same, the packaging is close enough to fool the casual observer, but when you open the box, pour out the contents then take a bite, something just doesn’t look or taste quite right. Take those teeny tiny backpacks the Milford students are wearing. At son of teenchy’s high school the classes are so far apart, and the time between them so short, that the kids wear expedition size backpacks and lug all of the day’s books and supplies around with them.

Take also Chance and Charlie’s convo. They’re spot on about school board doings – that’s their parents’ deal, not theirs – but their take on the Valley Tech game is more than a bit off. The Mudlarks aren’t gonna make the playdowns, so the only person who’ll be talking about the game will be Marty Moon. Win, and he’ll rag on Gil for underachieving all season; lose, and he’ll rag on Gil for the same old same old. The whole Ballard scandal is what will keep Milford talking long after the pads are put in storage and the last can of Nitrotan is sprayed in someone’s jock.

Finally, take Chet’s sorry-not-sorry apology. I get why Ballard is apologizing to Charlie (that is Charlie, isn’t it? Whigham can’t seem to keep him on model), but shouldn’t he be apologizing to Chance first? Maybe Charlie will tell him that in tomorrow’s strip.  Maybe  he’ll dangle the possibility that he’ll call Chet “Dad” after that, and offer that loser an unwarranted ray of hope. Maybe before it’s all said and done we’ll find out what happened to Chance’s parents. Then again I’m also hoping that any college football team nicknamed “Tigers” or that has a nut for a mascot loses this coming Saturday, but I don’t have my hopes up for that either.

November 11, 2019

The Education Beat

Filed under: Marjie Ducey, Substandard Sherlocks, Walking and Talking — nedryerson @ 6:34 am

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Last week, Gil shared his suspicions about Chet Ballard with Marjie Ducey. He was just “curious” if it was Chet who called the Milford Star with an anonymous tip about Chance Macy’s record of misbehavior in school.

Now it looks like Marjie is picking up the ball and running with it. There might be a story here! So she’s conferring with a new character, Niah. She’s an education writer at The Star.

What? I’m gonna have to let that sink in. There’s an “education writer” at The Star? Does Niah cover the school board? Has she ever covered any of the other weird goings on in the school system, like reality shows filming at Milford High or assorted school board blowhards getting smacked down by Coach Thorp? Given the idiocy that has gone on in Milford, I’m going to assume that up until this point, the press has not served as a bulwark against unethical practices in the school system. So I’m going to assume that the Star’s education beat probably just involves putting bus schedules and cafeteria menus in print. Which means Marjie might be on her own in developing solid sources.

Maybe Niah will prove me wrong. If she truly has a nose for a story like this, she might just snatch it away from Marjie and run with it in the hopes of raising her profile and getting out of Tank Town. Or maybe we could have a chick fight to lift us out of the doldrums.

November 1, 2019

I’m not sure anybodys ready.

Filed under: football, Gil Thorp, Milford Weirdos, shadow figures, Walking and Talking — robmize2013 @ 8:30 pm

Gil Thorp Comic Strip for November 01, 2019

No color today as the Seattle strip wouldnt load. So Chance confides in Gil that he’s essentially recovering from whatever condition he has (had before). Or at least he feels he can control himself. Wonderful. He even says playing football is major progress for him given his condition.

Meanwhile, we havent had a game in over 2 weeks, and as the falling leaves indicate, the season should be winding to a close, and playoff positioning finalized. The coaches shouldnt be worrying at this point about some kid who isnt even sure he’s up to the task of playing for them. Hey gang, if he is the Least bit unsure, tell him to take a hike right this minute and concentrate on getting better, I mean Really better. Cuz at this juncture, all he can do is further distract a team who we dont really have a handle on due to the lack of games lately ( hey thanks Chet for your contributions to slowing down the pace of pigskin play).

So we have our solution to this problem right in front of us. Lets see how quick Gil pulls the trigger and cuts  Chance from the team.  I wager they dick around for another week and I’ll be rehashing this crap-ola next Friday.

October 31, 2019

Bye, Bye, We Think This Plot’s Gonna Die

Filed under: exposition comics, Gil Thorp, song parody, Walking and Talking — tdrewhardin @ 12:18 pm

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Long, long time ago

I remember so well when Thorp led the troops

But now circumstances have changed

Some players have since gone deranged

And worn a strait jacket for a while

 

Football schemes just made me shiver

With every play that Gil delivers

Bad news on Macy’s doorstep

Can we brook one more step

 

I can’t remember when they played

This plot is strictly torn and frayed

Would somebody mind to kneel and pray

This plot has died

 

Bye bye, this plot’s a sepia rhubarb pie

Drove my Chevy to the levee

Where Gil’s head’s gonna dry

Then fans in the stands flashed their whiskey and signs

Screaming this’ll be the day the plot dies

This’ll be the day the plot dies

 

I really enjoyed reading the Liberty University Bible Commentary and I have found Jerry Falwell and his team of writers to be well-versed and also able to express difficult concepts in a crystal-clear and shrewd style. They hit the essence of the idea EVERY time.

I am intrigued by their staff who, as an example, went to Bob Jones University, Liberty University, Fort Wayne Bible College but got their doctorate at Harvard and Oxford. Without further ado

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Coach Kaz Flunks Eschatology 311 In The Theology Department At Milford Community College!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Coach Kaz: ‘I was out for a week with hepatitis when Princeton Theological Seminary was covering Zoroastrianism. I couldn’t begin to say where their soul went when they experienced Nirvana.'”

 

Gang, we are getting into the thick of things, not that that means we’re going to GET ANYWHERE. Gil and Chance are going for a walk. It doesn’t mean they’re going to reach Nirvana either.

Now you know they’re not going to discuss the milk stain on Chance’s chin after having eaten a bowl of Wheaties right before the Olan Mills photographer had everybody, i.e., Beaver and Grandpa and Grandma Cleaver, posing in the den in front of the Childcraft Sex Education World Encyclopedias.

“Coach, do transvestites finally get off the wheel or do they reincarnate into a Milford High School Cafeteria Lady?”

“Not sure, Chance. Where did you read that?”

“Funk and Wagnalls in their Supplementary Edition.”

 

Did you write this script of trash

And can relate to this tub of hash

If Thorpiverse told you so

 

Now do you believe in Rock ‘n’ Roll

Can this crap save our moral soul

And can it teach me how to get bored

Real sloooowwwwwwww

 

Well, I know that you’re in love with Gil

Cuz I saw you and him dancing in the Mudlark gym

You both kicked off your Keds

Man, I dig his Denali head

 

Oh, I was a lonely teenage bronco buck

With Chance’s damnation in a pickup truck

His grandparents ran out of luck

The day, this plot done fried

 

We were singin’, bye bye…

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Endowed With Honorary Degree In Liberal Arts By Milford Vocational & Technical College!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“They were impressed when I showed the professor that GE refrigerators didn’t come from the stork.”

Now for 3 months we’ve been on our own

Crucified on a colassal stone

Compelled to dump a sense of time

 

Well, the Mudlark band played a somber tune

Something that Hank Williams crooned

Hank and Chance sank into a swoon

 

Gil just looked at his watch and sighed

This stupid song just wouldn’t die

We all got up to dance

Things anyway wouldn’t advance

 

Cuz the players tried to take the field

The plot and the band refused to yield

Do you recall what was the deal the day

The plot just died

 

We were singin’ ye bye…

 

 

LADIES TAKE YOUR PARTNER

AND THE MEN SASHAY

Oops, sorry, I was getting a little carried away watching Gil and Chance Texas 2-Step together.

If ya call yore 4-wheel drive “Blowtop” cuz the dang thang explodes in 354 different directions, the flywheel barely missing the goal post at Milford High School Football practice field, ever’ time ya put the key in the ignition and try ta start it up, ya might be a redneck.

 

Gang, remember the Saturday Night Live sketch with the original cast where Gilda Radner plays this child who gets scared at night and every time she sees or hears or feels something scary, Bill Murray and Jane Curtin, playing her dad and mom, come in and dispel whatever’s scaring her. If it’s a scary-looking monster, mom and dad turn on the light and show Gilda it’s just her oversize Mac turned inside-out on the chair or if her bed’s shaking, well, the possessed Serta from Hell is actually this band of gypsies sleeping UNDER her bed (I think she gets grounded for a week for that mistake) .

Okay.

“GRANDPA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GRANDMA!!!!!!!!!!!!! HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MR. BLOWTOP’S EATING ME ALIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Son, we were watching Carson!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Dean Martin was singing the whole album of The Beatles’ ‘Rubber Soul’. This better be good.”

“It was here a minute ago. It’s over by that poster of Dominique Wilkins dunking on the Cubs!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“That isn’t Mr. Blowtop. That’s Fido the Great Dane. We forgot to take his Coach Thorp mask for Halloween. He was trying to lick you.”

 

Sorry, Robmize, I suppressed the urge for so long.

 

Helter Skelter, in The Bucket shelter

The Byrds flew off to a fallout shelter

8 miles high ’til basketball

 

So come on

Gil be nimble

Gil be quick

Gil pole-vaulted over a candlestick cuz

Fire is a bad plot’s only friend

 

And as I watched Gil on the football stage

My hands were clenched in fists of rage

No child born in a well

Could save this Plot from Hell

 

As the flames rode high into the night

To moonlite the Mudlark’s banal rite

I saw Gilberto laughing with delight

The day the music died

 

We were singing, bye bye…

 

Oh boy. We get to watch Quentin tell Barnabas Collins as they’re leaving Collinsport Mansion  for a promenade along the Atlantic that if he eats more Cheerios and less Lucky Charms that he’s less likely to turn into a werewolf. The wind blowing Barnabas’ toupee just makes this Creepiest Moment This Side Of Maine And Closest To Milford that much more dramatic if you’re into the Sports Shorts segment of Dark Shadows.

 

“We’ll be back for the exciting conclusion of ‘Days of Our Lives’ after these messages, here on WDIG-TV.”

“Gosh darn, Chance sureis up to his neck in alligators over his reform school record, isn’t he? And it’s too bad Barnabas Collins can’t rescue him from this pendulum stashed away in the pool room of Coach Shaw’s basement. Man, I need a Holiday Inn towel to cry on this one.

Hi, this is Coach Thorp and don’t you know I have a better solution. At Milford Beverage Warehouse, they have the finest liquors to help cry your blues away without taking out a second mortgage. Believe me, I’ve had liens on my riding mower just to pay off the Dewars Mint Label. Hey, at The Warehouse, we treat you like family. If you don’t pay the tab within a reasonable amount of time, it’s not like they’ll send The Sopranos on the first go-round, particularly if they have a score to settle on some territory in Milford with a rival family. The concrete shoes won’t be for a while. You can relax.

Speaking of credit, if you haven’t signed up yet for Milford Beverage Warehouse Visa Platinum Plus, what are you waiting for? Sonny Corleone to deliver it to your door with a couple of candy mints? Shoot, with all the goodies throughout the store, I know I’m gonna stock up on Falls City Black Label 24-Pack,  Jim Beam Straight From The Sulfur Spring, and Martini & Rossi Sparkling Raspberry Non-Alcohol with my piece of plastic and that’s just the tip of the iceberg. I’ve got revolving credit. I can wait until Guy Fawkes Day to pay the minimum.

And now until Thanksgiving, if you wear your 3-piece suit and tie, The Warehouse will give you a free 6-pack of Coors Jerkwater Lite. A taste of the Rockies and it’s on the house? I’m going to get revolving credit at Milford Big & Tall. I’ll pay off the balance every leap year.

Come on, people, get your butt on down here and bring your Armani suit and the kids. Shoot, the only other time you can dress up like this is for church or a funeral. And the Mormon Tabernacle doesn’t distribute free booze.

Come on down, the water’s fine and the credit’s good. Only at Milford Beverage Warehouse.”

 

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA, HIS HAIR, IT’S GOT ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GRANDMA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GRANDPA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That isn’t Mr. Blowtop. St. Elmo’s Fire got your portrait of you and Gil. Now go back to bed.

 

Gang, I apologize. I had to work overtime and trying to work in my schtick was a doozy. Thank you SO MUCH for your patience. You all mean the world to me.

 

Bye bye

Hope this plot’s gonna die

Drive this heavy to the levee

Where Gil must close his fly

Then the fans in the stands

Showed their whiskey and signs

Saying

This will be the day

Football

Dies

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