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The Bug Parade

“This is hard to believe, isn’t it?”

Supervision by Fred Avery; Story by Dave Monahan; Animation by Rod Scribner; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on October 11, 1941.

You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you? My reputation as a zoologist precedes me by this, my 762nd post. You expect it. You demand it. You’re holding my keyboard at gunpoint until I comply. *groan* I hate doing predictable jokes. All right! ALL RIGHT! *sigh*………………………………..

That title bugs me. Happy? There’s actually zero bugs featured in today’s short, despite what the title promises. At least the narrator uses the more appropriate term, “insects.” But I still don’t trust him. You’re lucky you have a friend like me who suffers from correctile dysfunction. If it’s not an insect, I won’t let you ignore the slip up.

So, spot gags again. Like a children’s joke book got animated to life, and the first chapter was about houseflies. Or as the cartoon correctly refers to, Musca domestica. I’m already being lulled into a false sense of security. Makes me willing to laugh at the weak joke about the fly’s feet being literal suction cups. Or…

………………………………………………………..

*sigh* The scariest freaking thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

Yes, I’ve alwsys suffered from a mild case of ommetaphobia. It wasn’t the pink elephants making it hard for me to watch “Dumbo”! So, while I appreciate the short finding a way to illustrate that a housefly eye is more akin to many smaller eyes, why do they have to be drawn in a semi-realistic style? Giving the usually toothless insect a mouth of teeth is just making the uncanny levels higher. I think… I think I’ll go have a bit of a lie down.

Let’s move away from flies. (Heh. As if we could.) Let’s make a joke about wasps. Ooh, so close with the Latin. It’s Vespula, not Vespa. Notice her slim figure. A very narrow abdomen that pinches off of her thorax. It’s really quite sexy. Until her girdle bursts of course, revealing her as either a cute bee, or an obese wasp. (Vespula girthica. The only insect species with breasts.) Then, speaking of bees, they act like a queen bee is its own species. But yes, she would be the one laying the eggs. You’ve earned a treat.

Then, what I was dreading this whole time: a gag about a spider. An animal that never was, and never will be an insect. Oh, it has six legs? Then I guess they have me on a technicality. Too bad they’ve given up with the scientific names by this point; devolving into pure jokes. Makes me wonder if the earlier mistakes were actually intentional. They probably were, and I’m just too uptight about these things. Or, much more likely, I’m a misunderstood genius who doesn’t get his @$$ kissed enough. Not sure which one I prefer.

We get our usual, fireflies looking nothing like actual fireflies bit, a moth being attracted to a flame because he wants to prevent fires, and another sentence that makes no sense to anyone majoring in zoology. Did he really just say that a myriapod is an insect? Ow, my every cubic inch of my centipede loving heart! It really burns. And I know I’m not revealing many punchlines. I’ll make it up to you with another coloring error: the centipede’s mouth. Oh, and I do have to give more credit to their depiction of a lou- I’m sorry, cootie. Yeah, bet you didn’t know that they were real, did you? I like how its legs look like the grasping claws it should have.

Hmmm… Nope! I don’t see a snail appearing in a short that was named after bugs, but then was mentioned it would be about insects, and now has been showing other arthropods. Clearly, we’re meant to see the parasitic fly larvae that resemble buck teeth. As for the silkworms, I don’t see why they are so butt-hurt about humans switching to nylon. Don’t they know that we kill them when we harvest their silk? Priorities, kids. As for their ant jokes, I’m lost on the one where a red and black ant politely say hello to one another. Is the joke that they didn’t fight to the death? Is it that they have male voices when the lack of wings suggests they’re female? Is it just a subversion of our expectations since they aren’t speaking in stereotypical black and native American voices?

Our last gag is probably the best one. It’s about the marbled orb weaver spider; an arachnid that comes complete with villain mustache and Billy Bletcher voice. He announces that he loves little flies, and lowers himself down to one. And can you really blame him? She is a rather fetching fly, at that. Only two eyes, pouty kissable lips, luscious lashes… Almost makes it hard to notice the spider grew another four limbs. I guess he was really a spider crab the whole time.

Favorite Part: There was real effort in those scientific names. Even if they were unintentional mistakes, people were clearly doing research. I have to commend them.

Personal Rating: Well, it’s a 1 for me because I can’t turn my zoologist mindset off. You probably don’t have this problem, but I can’t rate it higher than a 2. Maybe Avery should stick to phony travelogues for his gag pictures. And… HEY! FRED? WHERE ARE YOU FLEEING TO? You’re not leaving forever… are you? I swear I was just jesting!

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Crosby, Columbo and Vallee

“Yoohoo, Minniehaha!”

Animation by Rollin Hamilton and Max Maxwell. A Merrie Melody released on March 19, 1932.

The natives aren’t happy. Seems there are three crooners around anymore and they’re attracting all of their *ahem* squaws. Oh, why should I feel uncomfortable watching this? Thanks to the lack of spectrum, you can’t prove these are supposed to be redskins. And really, they’re not even going to feature in the picture. Let them complain, the sourpusses. I’m going to follow the first grayskin I come across no matter how boring of a cartoon that turns out.

Target sighted. Mickeyhaha is the star now. And looking at that long moniker I just gave him, I’m already regretting every choice in my life. They all led me here! Takes me back to my first decision I ever made: whether or not to breathe. I chose wrong back then, too. Let me overreact! It’s the closest I’ll ever come to being a VA! Can you tell that this picture isn’t giving me a lot to work with? Light on plot AND humor. At least the title song is catchy enough.

Mick gets his girlfriend/girl friend, who I’ll call Minn for short. Or just Minn, because that’s even shorter. Mick’s got a radio to play which means they can dance to diegetic sound for a change. It just requires a spider to stand on it to power the thing up. Because the web looks like a cord? I won’t dwell on it because I’d rather do what I’m really good at: pointing out animation errors. Look! Disappearing feather!

Everything with a soul loves music, ergo, all the woodland critters that have come to join the fun. Including some kind of bear dog that goes as far as to give a Vallee impression. And I can hear a Crosby impression! Who wants to be Columbo? Anybody? Anybody at all? It’s an unsung honor. Well anyway, we need some sort of antagonist in this cartoon. Let’s think. What’s something everybody knows about, everybody instinctually fears, and if it’s ever represented in an animated work at all, starts out misunderstood by the other protagonists?

It’s fire all right. It’s always fire. The music gets the flames jumping out of their pit and all over the forest. There isn’t any casualties as far as I can tell, but three nestlings are stuck up a tree with no way to get down, sans gravity of course, but that way hurts. Mick gets some assistance from some fire flies, and I don’t mean *Dear future me, don’t forget to actually quote your post of “Joe Glow the Firefly“*. Using a stray spider web, they make a safety net for the birds. Too bad the fire still succeeds in singing their feathers off. Mick takes care of it by spitting on that one flame.

Well, the forest is still ablaze, and all the grayskins are probably going to end up homeless, but Mick feels he won, so the picture ends here. Happ-… Miser-… Ending. It’s an ending for sure.

Favorite Part: Be sure to actually look at the fores animals that gather to enjoy the music. One of them is Foxy! What a fun cameo!

Personal Rating: 1. They don’t do anything creative or fun with their chosen cast, it’s just a standard rubber-hose dance party. And I didn’t want to mention it, but Minn is topless the whole time. Nippleless, but still…

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The Hardship of Miles Standish

“Well, the injuns were getting the best of the ordeal. Until one of them: pulled a boner.”

Supervision by I. Freleng; Animation by Gil Turner; Story by Jack Miller; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on April 27, 1940.

A radio broadcast has just finished reciting “The Courtship of Miles Standish” but one listener calls the whole thing a lie. It’s the male counterpart of Granny, I’ve decided. Now named Gramps. He tells his grandson he knows what REALLY transpired, even though it predates his lifetime. I for one, am usually entertained by grandfather stories, but that could be because mine has never shown signs of senility in the 29 years I’ve known him. Let’s hear what Gramps has to say.

In the year 1621.5, (where a guy in stocks disappears after the screen pans to the left.) two of the pilgrims colonizing this brave new world, were Priscilla Mullins and Miles Standish. Ancestors of Edna Mae Oliver and Hugh Herbert, respectively. There’s a bit of a romance just waiting to blossom between the two, but Miles is just too darn shy to pursue it. (Which means I’m also a descendant of his.) He tries to write poetry for her, but is having a difficult time. Writing is hard, and some of us make it look even harder. (At least I’m having fun.) He needs inspiration, or a better idea. And I don’t think inspiration existed during his time.

His calendar has the answer, just like calendars always do. (In case you’re wondering, the answer mine gave me was August 1.) It just takes him a while to read it because he’s constantly distracted by the sexy picture. Hey, a man can be attracted to actual girls and print ones. Heck, a guy can be attracted to another guy or nobody at all even, because this is America! Or, it will be in 154.5 years. The idea that was granted comes from the makers of this fine timepiece, John Alden Messenger service.

And I won’t keep you in suspense if you’re reading before watching. It suggests the service of a singing telegram. It’ll attract the girls better than blood attracts a shark. That’s a great saying I just made up. Feel free to spread it around. Standish calls the man himself, John Alden who looks to be the ancestor of Elmer Fudd. And if you already know about this short’s source material, then you can easily deduce that Edna and Elmer share the same great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, grandparents. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Alden comes to Priscilla’s house to deliver the musical message. “You must’ve been a beautiful baby”‘s origins revealed. Unless plagiarism was still rampant back then. Oh wait, this IS future-America they’re living in. The song is doing wonders, but a bigger problem arrives: natives colloquially referred to as Indians. Alden has to take shelter with Priscilla. The shot of the Injunatives rushing the place is similar to one seen in “Scalp Trouble“, just with everyone looking in better spirits. (I’d be frowning if I was ordered to kill Porky Pig. I’d also be taking my own life in front of him so he knew I thought higher of him than myself.)

There’s some pretty decent gags considering the stereotyping taking place. Some natives are in uniforms because they are from Cleveland, and another one accidentally shoots one of his allies. You’ll laugh if you can read lips, because the shootee is saying, without a doubt, “God damn son of a bitch.” Eat it, Hayes Code! Oh, and Alden hat’s are frequently shot off. You know, that bowler hat looks great on him. I hope if he survives, it becomes a family heirloom/tradition.

As the featured quote says, it just took one mistake on the attack to turn the tide. One of them ends up shooting a window, breaking the glass. Oh geeze, that’s like 77 years bad luck or something. Or worse yet, Alden coming out to ask who did that and who is going to be paying for it. They’re fleeing. And not one molecule of blood had to be dropped. Of course, as was always suspected, the surefire way to woo a woman is to plagiarize a song for her, before saving her life from redskins. And I mean that in the most fair, inclusive way. Keep her from eating a Strawberry Poison-dart Frog; it’ll get the same results.

Gramps finishes his story before the controversial ending where Standish declared war on Alden and demanded a duel at ten paces, forgetting the fact he was standing on a dock at the time. The old man does the ole “if it ain’t true, God has permission to smote me.” and lightning demolishes the house. Don’t worry. The little boy wasn’t a casualty.

Favorite Part: I hate choosing a part you already heard me mention, but it was the Natives freaking out after the window smashed. And it would have been equally funny with any race. Even Caucasian.

Personal Rating: Again, it depends on how offensive you find these kind of pictures. I think it has enough decent gags to make anyone laugh at least once through their guilt, so a 2 for them, a 3 for us.

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Holiday for Drumsticks

‘YOU WILL SOON BE SURROUNDED BY FRIENDS AND CRANBERRIES!’

Directed by Arthur Davis; Animation by Emery Hawkings, Basil Davidovich, J.C. Melendez, and Don Williams; Story by Lloyd Turner; Backgrounds by Philip DeGuard; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on January 22, 1949.

That’s a wonderful date to have a thanksgiving picture! No sarcasm here! I could probably handle seasonal depression easier with such a glorious feast! Please don’t leave me, summer! Life’s not worth living when it’s not you. And as for the actual plot…

Pa and Ma are hill folk, so they’re used to having some neighbor trying to kill them on a daily basis. Or even sooner. They’ve learned to make the best of it. Using the shots fired to open pouring holes in the coffee pot, light matches; the mundane things we all hate doing. Once they’ve gotten their use, they’re sure to plug ’em right back. Otherwise sleep would be awful difficult. Since Thanksgiving is approaching, Pa has brought home a turkey. Once he’s fattened up a bit, there will be plenty for me. I’m willing to share the cartilage.

Daffy isn’t at all pleased with his new roomie. (Yardie? Coopie?) According to him, there’s barely enough to eat as it is, and now most of that is going to the turk. Daffy stops him though, pointing out what’s going on here: they feed the turkey, in turn, he will feed them. Sounds fair to me, but Thomas is kinda selfish. Per Daffy’s coaching, he exercises as hard as he can. Faster! Stronger! Better! With all that lovely food going to waste, Daffy makes sure it goes to waist. Wait, confusion alert!

Does Daffy know about the actual plans? He kinda acts like he’s trying to pull a fast one. Has he really seen this happen before? Why all the hamming then? (Look who I’m talking about.) Why not be straight with the bird? “Hey fatstho! They’re gonna take a knife to ya! Why not let me eat the mostht to keep you trim? Nobody eatsth duck on Thanksthgiving!” Does he think Thomas won’t believe him otherwise? Why doesn’t Daffy encourage him to slim? I’ve seen a duck eat turkey meat. He really seemed to be enjoying it.

When the fated day arrives, the results are extreme. Thomas is basically spine and feathers. And a head and limbs of course. Daffy is a meatball. (What bird skeleton is on his munching table? Did Daffy stop any potential chance of turducken?) Pa takes one look at the turkey and deduces that he’s not healthy, and unlike other predators, humans only want the meat with the strength to fight back. As long as it’s tipping the scale of course. Daffy matches that description, and worse, I checked the rules; there actually isn’t anything saying you can’t have a different kind of fowl to celebrate the glory of the fourth Thursday. And duck is almost as tasty as turkey.

Daffy does his best to slim himself down, but it’s harder for him. He lacks Thomas’s discipline, and determination. Read: Pa keeps shooting all the exercise equipment. Daffy begs Thomas for help in hiding, which leads to what usually happens whenever Daffy asks for a turkey’s help, as evidenced in “Tom Turk and Daffy”. I’ve yet to actually discuss that one, and that’s probably why I have few visitors and fewer feedback. Ah, me. In case, you don’t know what I’m talking about, Thomas consonantly puts Daffy in painful hiding locations, deciding each one isn’t good. Wait, confusion alert!

Why is Thomas messing with Daffy? Even if Daffy hogged all the food for himself, the Thanksgiving threat was real. He helped saved you. Is he just trying to make sure the people don’t have to settle for turkey skeleton? Are turkeys just pricks by nature and I don’t have to feel guilty for enjoying their delectable muscles? Because as an animal lover, I have to. Thomas does have an actually sound solution: flee the country. The odds of death by Thanksgiving china, turkey and grease reduce significantly in places like China, Turkey and Greece. (I’m not proud of that one.)

Now that Daffy is dazed from the extreme hide and seek, he is happily wiling to waltz into the stove Thomas is calling a boat. (Hilariously, Ma and Pa are getting in on the action too, dressed as sailors.) If you think this ending is too dark, that’s just cause Ma can’t get a match lit. Daffy blows them out one by one. I guess he’s too fat to just leave the oven? He’s gotta Winnie-the-Pooh his way out now.

Favorite Part: As immature as it may be to say a funny face made me laugh as much as I did, the face Pa makes when he realizes how juicy Daffy is did me in.

Personal Rating: Well, it’s tough to say. A few confusing character moments didn’t help my scoring, and it was pretty much a weaker version of the previously mentioned “T.T.A.D.”. I’m feeling generous though. It is now officially recognized as a member of the 3 club. Welcome, and here’s your club robe.

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Claws in the Lease

“A fine thson you are!”

Directed by Robert McKimson; Story by John Dunn; Animation by Warren Batchelder, George Grandpre, and Ted Bonnicksen; Layouts by Robert Gribbroek; Backgrounds by Richard H. Thomas; Film Editor: Treg Brown; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc, Nancy Wible; Musical Direction by Bill Lava. A Merrie Melody released on November 9, 1963.

You know, I always thought Sylvester was a decent enough father. Sure, he’s got a bit of an ego problem, can be very lazy, and has bouts of racism, but I always felt like he was trying his best and clearly loved Junior. I’m not entirely sure after re-watching this one.

Example A: the two are living in the dump and eating garbage. That could be overlooked. Everybody has tough times and any place can be home with the right loved ones. But Sylvester keeps most of the slim pickings for himself. A-hole. That’s your son! And he looks up to you a majority of the time. It’s not like you need to do any more growing. Making things worse is the race of Tasmanian Devil Mice that take half of Junior’s “meal” for themselves. Junior’s had enough and sets about to find a home for the two of them. Despite the negligence, he still wants his dad to be a part of his life. *Sniff* He’s so forgiving.

Since animals don’t talk to humans, he just sells himself via carrying sign. He’s a kitten, and most humans have yet to evolve far enough to realize he wouldn’t make an ideal pet. In other words, he’s successful on the first try. The Trunchbull-esque woman goes to get him some milk, and Junior goes to get his pop. Sylvester iss very excited to get some dairy. Probably hasn’t had any milk since his days at the teat. But Bulltrunch doesn’t much care for fully-grown felines. She clobbers him and adopts his son.

The two get some snacks for a little TV time, when Sylvester sneaks in. He takes Junior’s food for himself and tries sneaking away. Not a portion; the whole can. Offers no more communication than the universal ‘shush’ signal. Junior squeals and he’s out of the will. When the TV is on, Sylvester appears on screen. So… he’s in the set? Behind it? Did he phase in front of it? All are acceptable answers. I’d be happy to take them. He starts acting out his own commercial, singing the praises of Pussykins cat food. Since animals don’t talk to humans, Bulltrunch probably just hears cat noises, which is how she knows what’s going on. He’s thrown out again.

His third attempt is his worst timed yet. Bulltrunch is on her way to the shower, just as he sneaks inside. By the mercy of Bob, she is very tall. All we can see is her arms and legs. Imagine what hell Sylvester is enduring. And he’s been to hell before! This must be fresh hell. He makes a further mistake by hiding in her bathrobe. When she puts her curlers in, she finds her scalp furrier than she remembers. He’s thrown out. Say, we’re beginning to get in a rut.

Finally coming to the realization that getting into a woman’s good graces requires not chicanery, but chivalry, he decides to fill her house with mice. Then, Sthuper Puthss will come to her rescue! Considering what kind of woman she is, I figured she’d just step on the mice. Maybe feed them to Junior. But we all gotta have a weakness. Unfortunately, Sylvester shares hers. Not even in the house for a full two seconds and he is thrown out. Junior and Bulltrunch are next in line. And he thought the Tasmanian rodents were problematic.

Father and son go back to the dump. Sylvester still taking more than his fair share. At least he’s not enjoying all the extra food, as now they’ve got a pet that they have to share with. Remember to have her spayed!

Favorite Part: Some of the mice Sylvester got came from Mice Inc. Already funny, but made better by how they deliver: just an oil tanker of mice you attach a hose to. I haven’t wanted a fake company this much since ACME!

Personal Rating: Depends on is you think I’m over exaggerating Sylvester’s flaws. You might see a 3 where I grade a 2.

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Boulder Wham

‘Follow the watch’

Directed by Rudy Larriva; Story by Len Janson; Animation by Virgil Ross, Bob Bransford, and Hank Smith; Layouts by Erni Nordli; Backgrounds by Anthony Rizzo; Film Editor: Lee Gunther; Musical Direction by Bill Lava. A Merrie Melody released on October 9, 1965.

Even though today’s chase doesn’t seem to be at the usual top speed, the Roadrunner is still fast enough to run across open air. Faster than the speed of gravity! (It only looked so slow because it was so fast.) Wile E. can’t top that, so he’s stuck on the opposite side of a broken road. At least he doesn’t have to worry about losing sight of his prey. Cartoons with speed are boring! Your brain can’t even perceive the images that would be flashing by. I’m glad that these sixties-budgets are giving us a short with a roadstander for a change.

Wile E. decides to cross by making a tightrope. But what is with that cloud over his head? There shouldn’t be many of those in a desert. The boulder he lassos is just begging to tip over. He should’ve been smarter than this. Not like those smart animators. They knew they were already stretching the limits on what little money they had to work with, so they zoom in on Wile E.’s face to avoid having to animate him crossing. And the boulder falls off its pedestal, causing Wile E. to lose his balance. Good thing his balancing pole was long enough to get caught in the cliff walls.

Bad thing the boulder follows after. He made a really strong knot on his end, and the rock doesn’t just fall, it swings into him. So strong is his knot that it never comes untied. The rope just snaps allowing the boulder to wham him. Good thing he’s a genius. For as a true genius knows, you can always continue to learn. He reads about how to pole vault. He… he just fails. Don’t blame the box he plants the pole into. He could’ve held on. And the Roadstander laughs at this. He actually laughs! CHU-UCK! Tell the story men to stop making your characters do stuff like that. Don’t tell me the studio actually owns them.

Wile E. next sets up a trampoline so he can bounce himself up. Oh! That little cloud was an idea! Thanks so much for labeling it this time. I was wondering so hard… Hey, if front-facing Phineas and mustache-less Mario aren’t cursed enough for you, try eyeless Roadstander! You’ll never have to worry about waking up to a dry bed again! Since he leapt from a precariously piled boulder stack, the top one follows the coyote. He gets whammed again.

Those clever animators. They once again reuse the same shot of Wile E. reading, but change the title on his book. That’s how you make use of a low budget! It’s how to hypnotize and it seems to be working! That’s no doubt a daze that the Roadstander is in. (After a slight case of indigo eyes.) Sadly, I guess no one could think of a brilliant way for this to end in failure, so they just have Wile E. catch his hypno-watch out of the corner of his eye, and fall under his own power. But the now wide awake Roadstander can still make him walk off the cliff. He shouldn’t have any interest in this, but why would the rules be followed now? It’s time for our last gag.

Wile E. studies some martial arts, then lures the Roadrunner back across the gap with a bike horn. The fight begins and ends when the dust clears. Somehow, Wile E. has ended up in empty air once again. He whams without a boulder this time.

Favorite Part: The cat noises that play when they two are fighting. The two were actually fighting. They’re not supposed to be Tom and Jerry!

Personal Rating: 1. If you date someone who says they love Roadrunner cartoons and you try to curry favor with this one, they will take half of what you own, move out of the country, change their name, dye their hair, get plastic surgery and pay your family to do the same.

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The Lady in Red

‘Smoke El Cigarro’

Supervision by Isadore Freleng; Animation by Robert McKimson and Ben Clopton. A Merrie Melody released on September 7, 1935.

Manuel’s cafe is closed for the day. He’s a blood-hungry psychopath who likes to watch bull fights. I bet it’s where he gets all his meat. Well, I think I’ll break into his establishment and vandalize the place in memory of my bull friends. I won’t be alone; his place is crawling with cucarachas. This might lead you to believe that it isn’t a very sanitary place. But, no. That’s not it. What it means is that Manuel built his cafe in a habitat that was already perfect for roaches. And he made it better by giving them access to more food.

If you still doubt, then yes, I am one of those crazy animal lovers who found roaches cute before I saw “Twilight of the Cockroaches.” I can’t help it. The way they try to scurry to dark spaces reminds me of a child under their blankets, and my maternal instincts do the rest. I’ll never get a woman, but if she wouldn’t accept this part of me, we wouldn’t last anyway.

The cockroaches enjoy a good meal when they use their food as sustenance, and a good sport when they use it as a plaything. Olives make splendid bowling balls, and root vegetables function as pins. (Gasp! That one disappeared! It’s a vanish radish!) Peas are more suited as tennis balls, and that’s really about it. Other spheroid foods are too big to be used in their games/ aren’t on the menu. Otherwise, they’d be using gumballs as the billiard variety.

Since they prefer the dark, nightclubs are an essential part of the community. You can dance, you can listen to Roachy Vallee sing, and you hear the musical instruments. (It’s hard being a pipe player. You tend to get cancer.) One of the star performers is our titular character. And she’s a right cutie, too. Admit it, you want to dance with Jessica Roach too. No need to be shy. Not like the scarecrow-ch in the audience. He faints at her beauty. He better be able to protect her from some dangerous animal if he ever wants a chance with the roach in red.

Manuel also has a parrot. I don’t think he loves it as much as he could, because its cage is minuscule. I took the lock off, so the poor guy can stretch his wings should he choose to. And if he wants to eat some roach meat, I won’t interfere. Part of being an animal lover is accepting the fact that some of them have to eat the others to survive. The animals accept that part about me. The bird pulls Jessica out of the club, and a chase ensues. He can be a little scary. He’s not anthro, and his screeches sound legit. If you were an insect, you’d void your cloaca.

But not the scarecrow-ch! He finds his courage and manages to chase the parrot off by lighting the stove the bird’s standing on. Poor thing flies away from where the cock-a-roaches dance and wallow in romance. At least his burning tail feathers can let him spell out the end. Even while dying, he’s a clever bird.

Favorite Part: The guy playing the peanuts as if they were maracas. He’s got a mad smile that tells me he has fun with his job.

Personal Rating: 2.

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The Rattled Rooster

“Merci beaucoup.”

Directed by Arthur Davis; Animation by Don Williams, John Carey, Basil Davidovich, and J.C. Melendez; Story by Dave Monahan; Layouts by Don Smith; Backgrounds by Philip DeGuard; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on June 26, 1948.

Early birds get worms. Scholars have stated this for centuries. It makes sense too. Worms like it dark so as not to harm their delicate skin. Therefore, you want worms; you don’t sleep. Our titular rooster aims to follow this rule. He’s not only going to hunt at 5 A.M., but he’s also going to make it so the clock doesn’t wake his coopmates. All is according to plan, except for the creaking of the door. The bachelor flock stampedes him going out, and coming back. All having had a wonderful breakfast. Rich in protein and water. The perfect way to start the day. (I’ve become too accustomed to Foghorn scale. It’s surreal to see roosters the size of roosters.)

Rattles, as I’m going to call him and I’m honestly surprised if you weren’t, decides to go out anyway. I’ve found worms in the P.M. hours before. I’m sure he can too. But it looks like other cockerels have nabbed them all but one. A worm in a turtleneck and sailor cap. Which means we have to call him Seaman Fishhook. He’s not easily caught. I bet it’s the arms. Worms could rule this Earth if they all had arms. When Rattles tries reaching for him underground, the worm does a little finger painting that leads to Rattles hammering his own digit at Fishhook’s suggestion.

Fishhook makes use of other objects resemblance to worms to get Rattles on a chase of the wild goose variety, instead. Toothpaste leads to a beakful of hygiene, and a balloon to a gizzard of air. After a record flight by chicken standards, Rattles is gasping for air in a pond. The line Fishhook throws to him is a telephone wire. I prefer original, but extra-crispy is pretty good too. And the grilled was also quite tasty. Are there any locations still selling that as an option? And there. Now I’ve filled enough space to warrant another paragraph break.

Fishhook finds a neat little toy amongst a rubbish pile: a rattle. Just attach it to the posterior and he’s disguised as an animal that no animal wants to mess with, sans Steve Irwin: a rattlesnake. And Rattles is deceived. He faints, screaming so loud in his head doing so, that I can hear his thoughts. Wait, were you saying that out loud? You should move your beak then. That way I can tell. He’s not the only one fooled, as along comes a lady snake, hopping like she’s Rattly’s mother. She probably is. And it does take two rattlesnakes to rumba, so she warps him up in a hug.

She’s a cutie. Usually I find rattlesnakes beautiful, majestic, maybe a little imposing, charismatic, and not that tasty. (If I’ve actually eaten one, which I doubt.) Fishhook isn’t in the same boat, as he does his best to escape her coils. I’m sure there are some viewers who are enjoying this scene a little too much. I’m not one to shame other’s kinks. Unless it’s this one. Shame on you. Be like me and just wish you could adopt her. I think Kaa has finally been dethroned as my favorite serpent. He can still be my favorite constrictor, though.

Rattles by this point, has figured out that what he saw was just a worm in disguise. But what he yanks out of the hole has scales, so she probably isn’t an eel. Definitely not a worm either. And caecilian is right out. She’s either friendly or hungry, as she begins chasing Rattles too. Come on guys! She’s not bothering me, so leave her alone! But no, they’ve got to get rid of her in the most cruel fashion. They hit a golf ball down her throat, knocking her off her bounce and getting her front half caught in a fence knothole. Then another and now she’s stuck until she starves. Cowards. Bullies. Cads. But I guess you’re not thieves.

Satisfied, they shake hands and go separate ways. Rattles’s brain suddenly remembers that Fishhook is a worm, and they equal breakfast. While chasing, he gets his head caught in another knothole and is also put there for keeps thanks to another golf ball. The vivacious viper seems quite glad for the company.

Favorite Part: During the chase, Rattles is caught in a pipe, and gets blasted out due to Fishhook giving him a hotfoot. He assumes the worm wouldn’t dare do that again, but he does. However, it doesn’t play out like copy and paste footage. See Speedy? This is how you should always do it.

Personal Rating: 3. Really folks, I can’t recall a more adorable reptile. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to snort some onions so I can make myself cry. I was really looking forward to “Bye, Bye Bunny.” It’s a good thing I still have a couple hundred cartoons to discuss, because my reasons to live seem to get smaller every month.

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Cat’s Paw

“An anemic thsprarrow would thuit me justh fine.”

Directed by Robert McKimson; Story by Tedd Pierce; Animation by George Granpre, Ted Bonnicksen, Warren Batchelder, Tom Ray; Layouts by Robert Gribbroek; Backgrounds by William Butler; Film Editor: Treg Brown; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by Milt Franklyn. A Looney Tune released on August 15, 1959.

Junior collects merit badges, and the one he’s after right now is for bird-stalking. Sylvester, like any cat, isn’t thrilled to be doing something that requires actual work and effort. Climbing too, since his son decided to achieve his goals in Utah’s Arches National Park. (My childhood state! Before I realized the real world and I didn’t get along and I permanently relocated to Toontown. I now live between Feathers McGraw and Coconut Fred.)

Junior’s choice of bird is Turkey Vulture, Cathartes aura, but Sylvester vetoes it. What? Pffft. No, he’s not scared. You see, big birds are slow birds. You want to catch an ostrich? There’s no challenge. A cassowary? They’re too lethargic to stop you. A roc? A quadriplegic infant could do that. When it comes to birds, the small ones are the scrappy fighters. Ain’t nobody messing with a hummingbird and coming out unscathed. Instead though, the two opt for a sickly looking, no-doubt juvenile, bird in the nest above. Those kind of guys are still worthy challengers.

Sylvester refuses to even look in their guide book to find out what his prey is even called. If he did, he’d learn that he’s tangling with a Dwarf Eagle, Spilornis dopee. These guys have evolved a unique way of scaring off potential threats. An eardrum drilling shriek that makes you envy the deaf. Any predator that hears this will instinctively cover their respective auditory organs, a natural reaction and at these altitudes, a fatal one. At least they’ll escape from that scream. Proud as he is, Sylvester claims that he’s only fallen down due to losing his footing. Something I figured any cat would be even more reluctant to admit.

Dwarf eagles are also very powerful for their diminutive size. Sylvester is thoroughly shredded when he climbs up to try again. Junior is ashamed. Making things worse for his pop is the eagle flying down just to show Junior how timid, weak, and helpless he is. Dwarf eagles are cunning, too. Sylvester tries to convince Junior that the vulture would be a better choice after all, but the kid ain’t budging. He has no intention of being vomited on. Sylvester makes use of a boomerang that brings the target to him, but doesn’t render it any more harmless.

Sylvester calls it quits. Junior can hunt butterflies and like it. Since they fly, they’re pretty much the same thing. Especially the one Sylvester goes after. This is the Papilio catterkillar, the world’s most dangerous lepidopteran. Not content with wimpy nectar, they adapted to maim and kill anything foolish enough to think they are as fragile and docile as every other butterfly on the planet. Junior still finds it embarrassing. Good thing he brought a shame sack. Never know when you’ll need it.

Favorite Part: the way Sylvester says “Butterfliesth!” when he changes the day’s activity. It’s so endearingly doofy.

Personal Rating: 3. (Now junior is ashamed of me.)

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The Merry old Soul

“Daddy!”

Supervision by Isadore Freleng; Animation by Rollin Hamilton and Riley Thompson; Music by Norman Spencer. A Merrie Melody released on August 17, 1935.

For many of us, life equates to misery. And being social creatures, misery is subtracted by keeping company. Therefore, the only way you’ll ever be happy in life is to get married. (Note: this is not exact science. Many people are even more depressed after tying the knot. I actually know nothing about happiness, joy or cheer.)

Even someone as merry as King Cole is just faking it most of the time. Pipes and bowls do nothing for his mood. Even his fiddlers would rather stick just with themselves. That’s why they got a bow that can play all three of their fiddles at once. Now, they never have to part. Good thing he’s a king! Ladies love powerful types. Even better, his kingdom is full of wonderful bachelorettes. The winner of the regal roulette is none other than the woman formerly known as the little old lady who lived in a shoe. Now she’s going by Mrs. Cole.

Everyone is happy for the couple. Humpty, Spoon, and Dish are so glad that their lips almost slip off their faces. Talk about mouthing off. Others were so gleeful that they cloned themselves so the background could repeat if necessary. It’s close enough that I don’t think casual viewers will notice. And Puss in Boots shouldn’t be here. He’s a fairy tale character! No, they are not the same thing as nursery rhymes. Either choose one, or you’ll have to say they live in a world of nursery tales. And no one wants that.

With the ceremony over at long last, now Cole can get to know his wife. He clearly never read her life story like the rest of us, since he’s surprised to find that now HE has so many children; he doesn’t know what to do. Who would have thought that getting married meant you’d have to share responsibilities? Actually, why would he think that? Being a king means he has servants to do things like that. And why aren’t they living in his castle? Is a shoe that much of an upgrade? It’s not even real leather.

And so, Cole is now worse off then he’s ever been. Even his three-way fiddlers gleefully sing about how lousy his life is. I won’t lie, it got a smile out of me. And I’m the morose one! His main duties are caring for the youngest ones. Mrs. Cole is no longer in the picture, so you can assume she married him to have a babysitting cuckold, and I’ll assume that she’s busy caring for the older ones. I like to imagine that all marriages work out, and the two involved never stop enjoying each other’s company.

Caring for these babies means giving them a good bath. Scrub them down, then let them rinse off in a lazy river. It looks soothing to me. Well, not that automatic ear cleaner. That’s a good way to spread infections. Next, drying and powdering. Sometimes the kids have hair, sometimes they don’t. They must’ve gotten it from their biological father. Now, which nursery tale character could he have been? Can I make him up?

Jeremiah Dread, sucked his hair into his head, which then gave a little tickle to his brain. Filled with mirthful glee, he then rolled into the sea, and we never, ever, spoke of him again.

Answers all my questions.

The next step seems pointless: Cole uses balloons to float the infants over to the next conveyor belt. What’s the point of that? Just giving them a little knees breeze before their loins are once more imprisoned in their diapers? Then you slip them into pajamas and they’re ready for bed. They like to have a lullaby while they’re rocked, and don’t dare try to sneak off before the rem cycle. They’ll scream. When they finally snooze, Cole decides to take a breather himself. But two tykes aren’t unconscious…

It’s Nip and Tuck. They’re the naughty ones. They start the rocker up full blast, which not only shakes their siblings awake, but flings them onto Cole. He joins them in their bawling. The end.

That was a depressing ending. But it’s relatable, right folks? I guess we’ve all learned that true happiness can only be achieved by childless couples. With a dog.

Favorite Part: I have a strange sense of humor. I thought it was funny that three of their children aren’t Winken, Blinken, and Nod. Rather four of their children are Winken, Blinken, AND, and Nod. It’s abstractly cruel.

Personal Rating: 1. Putting aside the unpleasant finale, it’s mostly nothing but a baby factory picture. We’ve seen that before, but better, and later, but fantastic.