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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.

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Lovelorn Leghorn

“This cluck’s off ‘er onion.”

Directed by Robert McKimson; Story by Tedd Pierce; Animation by Rod Scribner, Phil DeLara, Charles McKimson, Emery Hawkins, John Carey, and J. C. Melendez; Layouts by Cornett Wood; Backgrounds by Richard H. Thomas; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. (So says my complete guide to Warner Bros. Cartoons, anyway.) A Looney Tune released on September 8, 1951.

After her little “egg-scapade“, (Ow. That sucked so bad my funny bone was severed.) Porky decided Prissy wasn’t worth the hassle. She’ll be living on a different farm from now on. I’m sure she’ll be much happier there. She’s not being raised for eggs in this picture, so she’s got plenty of free time. And if you’re lonely, free time sucks. I speak from experience, and you don’t care. Prissy decides to be smart and use hers as a chance to go husband hunting. The other hens’ suggestion to take a rolling pin for convincing might be sarcasm, but Prissy’s taking it regardless. Men can be dangerous when conscious. (And in the name of gender equality, women too.)

Foghorn is taking a nap in the sun, stupidly close to the Barnyard Dawg. Never sleep within his rope limits unless you want a rude awakening. And nothing gets ruder than a bucket of liquid nitrogen cold, (but still liquid somehow) water emptied on you. Listen to that gasping! Foggy’s lucky he didn’t go into hypothermic shock! Too far, B.D. Much too far. But then, Foggy must’ve dropped a quarter dozen I.Q. points to forget you. Maybe it would be best to put him out of his misery.

Prissy spots him as he sharpens an axe. Also extreme, but unwanted cold should be returned with death. Soon as I can figure out a way to end Winter without destroying the planet, I’m doing it. She uses the pin, and Foghorn gets angry. Strangely enough, this causes her to break into tears. Don’t men like physical pain? It’s the only pain they understand. Foghorn apologizes, and that conk must’ve knocked what little brain cells were up there back in place, because he is able to figure out exactly what she’s doing. (And humorously enough, supports the pin, but tells her that it’s for later in the relationship.)

So, how will he utilize her into his revenge scheme? The same way he does with Henery. He tells her that the dawg is a rooster, but he wears that fursuit to keep the ladies away. (This works with humans too. Or maybe it just works with some. Man, are we diverse.) Foghorn gives her a casaba melon, (Specific. Oddly so.) telling her that like all guys, his heart is in his stomach. But you can’t just give it to him. Tease him a little. Guys love flirting. I think I do.

As our quote demonstrates, B.D. is a little confused, but free food is free food. He tries to take it, and she starts running. This is where Foghorn rejoins, treating things like a football game. Once the melon is in his wings, it makes its way over the dawg’s head. Encased, that is. Time for the winning kick! Or punt! Or whatever the ‘L’ you call it. One dazed dog, one delighted dame. And Foggy gets to enjoy watching her try to remove the “suit”. Finally getting to speak to her properly, Barnyard tells her the truth: her ugly face means she has no alternative to trapping a husband. You mother-was-a b*tch!

Nah, he’s a swell guy. Even tells her what she’ll need to build this trap. Foghorn misses most of the construction, but he does see her trying to lift the final piece in place: a bowling ball. Not being able to see a lady do “mens work” he lifts it for her and puts it in the sluice she built. I’d also stop to see what was going to happen. I wouldn’t be disappointed either, because I’ve never stopped loving Rube Goldberg devices. The stupidly simple thing this complex monstrosity was designed to do was drop a cannon ball on rooster heads. What fun! Now make one that’s twenty-five minutes long and adds salt to fries.

Later, Prissy has a brand new market basket to show off to the girls. It’s handy for carrying her brand new husband. He’s already picked up her manner of speaking too. A sure sign of a healthy relationship.

And in case you were wondering, Comic con was fun, everybody who commented on my costume thought I was Gogo Dodo, (his umbrella is PURPLE, thanks so much) and I didn’t get a chance to get Bob Bergen’s autograph. I knew I should have brought some handcuffs.

Favorite Part: Even Foghorn’s snoring is in character: “Zzzz… I say… Zzzz… That is.”

Personal Rating: 3. Prissy will be much better utilized here.

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A-lad-in his Lamp

“It’s too good to be true, but I’m here.”

Directed by Robert McKimson; Story by Warren Foster; Animation by Phil DeLara, Manny Gould, John Carey, and Charles McKimson; Layouts by Cornett Wood; Backgrounds by Richard H. Thomas; Effects Animation by A.C. Gamer; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on October 23, 1948.

We human beings tend to be rather slobby. Throwing our trash wherever we please, not bothering to recycle, or in today’s rather specific case, burying garbage. While Bugs works on building a new home, he finds a lamp. Having never read even one of the 1001 tales, Bugs doesn’t immediately realize what power he now wields. Still, some use could be made out of it. Just needs a good shining.

Since, genies (or djinn if you prefer) usually exist in a liquid state, heating their vessels with your friction allows them to evaporate and escape. There. I just gave you a viable and logical explanation for why the rubbing always must be done. And, beating Disney to the punch by 46 years, the genie here is voiced by a celebrity: Jim Backus. He is grateful for the service and offers Bugs a wish. Just one, but that’s more than you got. You may think you’ve got Bugs figured out well enough that you can guess, but with the genie constantly interrupting him, he could be wishing for anything. You know, for fun, I’ll guess.

Hmmm… “much too small”… lessee here… Got it. Bugs originally was wishing for carrot seeds. It’d be smart to start his own garden if he’s going to be living in this new area. Next. “too delicate and ‘saunsitive'”… that’s a bit tougher, but I’m sure a college-dropout like me can solve this mystery. I’ll bet he was wishing for a gross of mini-Elmer’s to mess with. The genie is right, those poor guys wouldn’t last an hour. As for that last one, Bugs was probably wishing to be able to share screen time with Mickey Mouse and not have the multiverse blow up. I’m smart and you can applaud now.

Bugs finally gets a wish made. Not one, but TWO carrots! I don’t care if you think that’s a waste of a wish. I admire those who make simple wishes. That’s why if I ever had 3 wishes I’d want: 1. to lose the ichthiophobia, 2. get my children’s book published, 3. have a bunch of friends who’d want to make an animated series with me. Basic stuff. But why am I talking about 3 wishes? The genie never offered that. In fact, now that he gave Bugs what he asked for, Smokey (as Bugs refers to him) is planning to go home to Bagdad. (Sic.) Bugs wishes that he could visit that place, but that could never happ- hey wait a minute!

The two fly off. Since Bugs didn’t specify where he wanted to go, I’m assuming Smokey is just going to take him to his place. Either it’s changed since however many years has passed, or Smokey was just the family pet. (How did he get to America anyhow? Tectonic plates?) The person occupying the palace is a caliph known as Hassen (Sic.) Pheffer. He’s a little miffed about having a rabbit just fall out of the sky, but he’s the exact opposite about a certain lamp doing the same thing. Bugs claims it as his own, and a chase begins. You’d chase too. Admit it.

I don’t know why Bugs doesn’t think he can take this guy, but he wants some assistance. Smokey, though, is in no mood. Not helped by the fact that Bugs is summoning him during bath time and meal time. Bugs tries to make an escape via magic carpet, but those things are impossible to control. He zigs, he zags, he messes with the perspective. Look, there are clearly towers in the foreground, but Bugs doesn’t stay a relative size compared to them. It bothers me because if Bugs really was that giant, he wouldn’t have to run from Mr. Pheffer. He could go Caerbannog on the guy and not get any blood around his mouth.

And Smokey still isn’t any help. When Bugs tries a third time to get some aid, the genie was trying to score with one of those rare female genies that barely exist out of sitcoms. Pissed, he tells Bugs that there is going to be hell to pay should he be disturbed once more. And I’ve heard people get mad at him treating Bugs like that. Why? Unlike other genies, he’s not calling Bugs his master, so Bugs can’t really order him around. For that matter, genies are just natural pricks. Even the Robin Williams one tended to take very little seriously, even when ordered to do evil bidding, he makes like Chernabog. Entertaining, but could grate on your nerves if you’re not in a happy mood.

When Bugs crashes back down, the lamp falls into the caliphs eager hands. One rub-a-dub and he’ll get eternal happiness! That what he thinks. Smokey wasn’t making idle threats and we never see what he does exactly, but I have a feeling he crammed the man into the lamp. Breaking his bones into gelatin, his organs to offal butter, and his blood spraying through the spigot in the process. Pleased that he got to kill someone, he offers Bugs another wish. Which means he doesn’t care that an innocent man is dead now. Natural prick. Bugs, now aware of just how powerful the genie is, gets himself a hare-rem.

Favorite Part: During the chase, Bugs accidentally peeks into a room containing what he believes to be a harem. Hearing this, Smokey gleefully takes a peek to confirm the suspicions. These are the moments he wishes that everything below the belt wasn’t vapor. (And wishes that genies could grant their own wishes.)

Well, I’m getting pretty bored of life. Reckon I should visit Comic Con one more time. If you’ve ever wanted to meet me in person, this might be it because I can’t promise I’ll attend another one afterwards. Yes, I’ll really be cosplaying as the last of the dodos.

Personal Rating: 3

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Buddy Steps Out

“Blow your nosey.”

Supervision by Jack King; Animation by Charles Jones and Robert Clampett; Music by Bernard Brown. A Looney Tune released on July 20, 1935.

Well, somebody looks like they’re getting ready for a good time. It’s Cookie, looking way more like Betty Boop than Cookie Phudd. Definitely makes her look more grown up than usual, but she’s got that counterintuitive Bernice Hansen voice that just begs to belong to child characters. Speaking of children, Buddy looks way, way, (P.S. WAY) too young for her. She’s got a full head of height on him, and mixed with his baby face, he just looks like her little brother playing grown-up. (Whatever did happen to him?)

As the title suggests, they step out. And it would be really rude of us to follow along on their private time, so let’s stay behind. Cookie’s got a canary. What more do you need to be entertained? (I’m so boring, but I’m… happy?) Too bad Cookie couldn’t bother buying a better cage for the little guy. I don’t care how “great” a depression is, buying an animal is a commitment. If you can’t guarantee a comfortable, enjoyable, meaningful life, then you shouldn’t have a pet. (And yes, that’s why this animal lover doesn’t have a parrot, tortoise and rat.)

In other words, the bird slips out of his cage and out the open window. (Burglars love Cookie’s place. She even leaves out plates of her namesake for them.) He could potentially get back in, but its cold outside and the picture of Buddy on the desk can’t stand it. So, for the second time in the picture, Buddy steps out. With some extra muscle from an Atlas figurine, (or whatever you wanna call what a statue has) the house returns to warmer times. The poor canary realizes how good he had it by this point, but can’t enter a closed window! Buddy has moved on from torturing lower life forms, it seems.

Good thing the photo isn’t really the real Buddy. He brings the bird back in, and not a moment too soon. Little fella is frozen solid. Little Buddy solves this by placing the canary in an ash tray, and igniting a lighter underneath. Because he has all the evil thoughts of the original Buddy! Why should Cookie share her love with any other creature? I know this is killing the bird because its starting to hiccup. Just like everything does on deaths door.

Fine, it works. Sue me. (You do know how to contact me, right?) The bird is all better which means its party time. Original Buddy shouldn’t be the only one allowed to have a good time. Let’s have all the printed mascot characters in the house join in! Don’t you wish you could join in the joy of suddenly having a new dimension to move through? The girls on the soup can sing, and so does a Proto-Porky on a ham. Fittingly though, he does so in his native tongue: (say it with me) Pig Latin! Even an insect joins in the singing sesh. Quick, Henry, the Flik! It’ll teach him to join in things he wasn’t invited to.

Jiggers! The couple! Everybody had better get back to their places because Cookie is going to have a fit if she has to look after so many little ones. That means canary goes in cage, and Little Buddy gets back in his frame. Original Buddy has to see his girl off with nothing more than a kiss on the hand. Little Buddy, on the other one, gets way more action. Cookie plants four times the kisses on the photo version. On his face, yet. Being a photograph rocks. And we have Beans seeing us off. A subtle way of telling us that Buddy’s days are numbered. (Proto-Porky actually appearing in the story says the same thing about Beans.)

Favorite Part: The animals that “Flik” is said to kill include bugs, ants, slugs and snails. Oddly specific, but it’s like the animators were looking into the future saying: “Yes, Dr. Foolio, we DO know that ‘bugs’ ISN’T supposed to be a catch-all term for insects. Our made-up product won’t cause any lasting harm to beetles, roaches, flies or caterpillars. Just aphids, cicadas and water striders.”

Personal Rating: Well, I was going to give it a 3, for being fairly entertaining as far as Buddy cartoons go, but realized that it’s just another “products coming to life” picture that W.B. has no shortage of. Most if not all are better ones. If you only like the best in that category, then it’s a 2.