Category: First Appearances

Cartoons that were the debut of recurring characters. I.E., those that appeared at least twice.

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Mr. and Mrs. is the Name

♫”Mr. and Mrs. is the name!”♫

Supervision by  Isadore Freleng; Animation by Ben Clopton and Cal Dalton; Music by Bernard Brown. A Merrie Melody released on January 19, 1935.

There’s an island that none of humanity knows about where merpeople live. A predominately female species, that doesn’t have the same rules of modesty that we have. That is awesome for people who are attracted to things like this, but it makes perfect sense, too. Are those actually mammary glands? Are they egg sacs? We’re not given an answer because it’s not important. Though, someone really should put together concrete merperson (or merson) anatomy rules.

From other observations, it’s clear that if they are related to fish, it would the be the lobe-finned kind. They can stand on their fins most comfortably. Sure, they have a narrow stance, and waddle, but this means merfolk are actually amphibians. The larvae probably have no hands when they hatch, and feathery gills. Or not, seeing as our short is going to focus on two of the young ones, and they look the opposite of what I described. Let’s all agree with me and call the more “endowed” ones their mothers, and they are using siren songs to crash ships and get some sailor meat for dinner.

Our two leads are basically Buddy and one of the myriad Cookie designs. (The blonde one.) They’re great friends and love a good game of tag that can be played in three dimensions. I call them Mercer and May, and you can do likewise. Otherwise, you can write your own blog. Mercer tags May really hard on her rump. I won’t deny that probably hurts, but, the merson anatomy still boggles and confounds. Would the anus be located there? Or closer to the fins? What I’m saying is: if he was older, could she claim sexual harassment, or just plain violence?

I’m not joking about overreacting, as May stomps off in a huff. Male mersons are just too rough, and that’s why they’re driven away from the schools upon reaching sexual maturity. Mercer is able to get her to come back when he finds one of the ships his mom helped sink is still laden with material goods. Females are females, and May is smitten with the chest of jewels. Mercer is more interested in the old clothes and makes a costume with which to do a Chaplin impression. He knows who that is because when you eat a human, you gain everything in their brain. Don’t try it yourself.

While they have their fun, the ocean continues to be a dangerous place. Today’s featured threat is named Otto. He grabs May and I know what we’re all equating this to. Tentacles and a minor do not lend themselves to any pleasant ideas. But, I’ve got a crazy idea, maybe he just wants to eat her? I mean, he is a predator, right? Wow. Digging myself deeper is way easier than I imagined. Mercer is on his way, and Otto speeds up when he remembers he has a siphon. Like in a lot of cartoons, it and his mouth have switched places. It being acknowledged at all is still impressive.

While Mercer plays catch-up by tying an electric fan to himself, May does her part by hitting Otto with a fish skeleton. She doesn’t actually try to escape, or fight back more, but she does get grabbed again. That was all very pointless, but it filled up some run-time. Mercer arrives shortly after, but the octopus reminds him why they call him One-punch Otto. He reminds him more than 24 times, but I can’t count the correct amount. Nor am I even sure I can count that high. He then traps the young merson underneath him. If his mouth was down there, he could win. Instead, Mercer pokes him in his siphon.

The maddened moullusk chases him into a pipe, but since his mouth is bigger than it, he struggles to get through. Mercer traps him by tying his tentacles in knots. I spot one changing color, but that’s scientifically accurate. Now, they can torture him. There’s a piece of ship mast in here tied to something I’m sure, that the two kids can swing into his head until he starves or rips his limbs off. In the meantime, May rewards her hero with a kiss. The title was prophetic.

Favorite Part: A new twist on an old pun. In the ship, you can see Davy Jones’ FOOT locker.

Personal Rating: 2

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The Wacky Worm

“My word! A bird!”

These are wonderful days!

Supervision by I. Freleng; Story by Dave Monahan; Animation by Cal Dalton; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on June 21, 1941.

Wack is back! Even though this is his first appearance. With how confusing I needlessly make my blog, who’s really the wacky one here?

There’s a bird that looks like the lovechild of a mynah bird and a flamingo. He’s a crow, though. The title promised a worm, and wacky or not, that’s his favorite dish. Unlike the majority of birds that hunt via sight, he can make do via sound as Wack has just begun a song. Obnoxiously stretching out a note. Why does it bother me here, but not there? Because Jones sounded more musical? Because I’m a terrible hypocrite? Maybe I’m just having a bad day?

The bird doesn’t just pluck him away in the middle of the song, which gives us time to look at his weird chin he now has. God did not mean for birds to have a chin. Please get rid of it. And remove those feathers growing out of your beak too. At best they look like feminine eyelashes, but they’re mostly just eyesores, and I hate them. Were you jealous that you couldn’t grow a mustache and glued some pubes on to fake it? And as for you Mr. Worm, I notice your little hairs on your head can’t decide if they’re green or black. And are you wearing pants? I’m really asking.

Wack runs, with a cute bit that has his upper body stretching away from his feet as he goes. Hope you find that funnier than Charlie Chaplin, because they’re going to reuse it a couple more times. He hides in an apple, but the bird knows that all he has to do to find him is watch for the one apple that moves. Turns out, they all do. The answer to this puzzle is to watch the apple that can’t “see” where it’s going. That’s the dead one worn by a worm.

Wack next hides in the junk heap that is always in the middle of forests. The bird thinks he’s been cornerd in a phonograph, but Wack turns it on and ruptures his ear drums. He’s going to be hunting from sight from now on. Wack also hides in a toaster, that can operate even plugged out. (That should be a term. Let me influence you.) One shouldn’t be surprised that only toast comes out of a toaster. It’s tasty, but lacks protein, and birds shouldn’t be eating bread anyway. I applaud the crow for spitting it out. Healthy choices make for healthy bodies, or so the theory goes.

Hiding in a bottle of rubbing alcohol is no different than hiding in the drinkable stuff. Wack is loaded. He comes back to battle the bird, worm to bird. He dares the bird to punch him, and gets that wish. Now with sense knocked back in, he runs again. He takes refuge in apples once more, but since the crow knows the secret to locating him, he has to stay still. There’s only one solution now: eating every apple to find him. What’s worse than finding half a worm in an apple? Starving.

It takes some doing, but the crow eats his way through almost every fruit on the ground. He looks ready to ralph, but it’s the principle of the matter by this point. And protein is still protein. He reaches for his prize, when a woodpecker’s pecking sends down a fresh wave of tree eggs. The phrase usually calls for grapes, but I think we can make do with sour apples being the reason why the crow finally calls it quits.

Favorite Part: Crow: “You’re inebriated.” Wack: “Ah, yes! Disguisting, isn’t it?”

Personal Rating: 2. One gets the feeling that Wack is designed to appeal to babies here. They sacrifice wordy jokes or humorous slapstick for shouting and bouncy movements. I’m glad that Wack’s sequel improved everything. And I stand by that description.

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Porky’s Naughty Nephew

“Uncle Porky? Uh, can I go swimming? Oh boy! Buy me an ice cream cone! When’s Christmas? Oh, can I go swimmin’? When’s the Easter Bunny comin’? Why? What? Oh, I wanna help on these things. How soon will we get there?”

Baby pigwets awe so cute!

Supervision by Robert Clampett; Animation by Robert Cannon; Story by Warren Foster; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on October 15, 1938.

It’s the best kind of day. The day of the Cartoon Animal Outing. (If it also includes chocolate then I’m never leaving.) Porky’s going to be there, but his sister, (you know, the one who smokes hams?) has coerced him into babysitting. I’ve made it no secret that I don’t particularly care for children. They’re loud and stubborn and I can’t speak to them on an adult level. I’ve also made it very well known that I love pigs. And piglets are the cutest pigs can get. So what am I supposed to think of little Pinkie here?

Well, he’s got a bonnet. Minus five cute points. He’s got a wide, chubby smiling face. That’s good. He is voiced by maybe Bernice Hansen just slightly sped up, I’d wager. And he loves to torment his uncle. You’d think that’s the clincher, but no, I just can’t bring myself to say otherwise. He’s adorable! His widdle waugh! His chubby tummy! His “innocent” coos! I admit that he’s best in small doses, and it’s all for the best that he’d only make one more appearance after today, and then Cicero got the nephew gig, but for today, let me gush.

Porky barely gets settled for a nap when Pinkie’s misbehavioral impulses start up. He swats Porky with his plastic sand shovel, then leaps back into pure innocence before Porky can reprimand him. Porky decides to blame the only other kid he sees on the beach wielding a shovel. Porky, not very meanly at all, tells the squirt that he shouldn’t hit people with shovels and takes it away from him. The kid’s no novice at sand scooping, though. He has a backup. When Porky tries to take that one as well, he gets beaned by the kid’s biggest shovel. Wanna join the fun, Pinkie?

Pinkie grabs the shovel and takes a swing to defend his uncle’s honor, but the kid ducks and Porky is clobbered. Judging by the kids’ smiles, this was planned. Pinkie then heads to a body of water and pretends to be drowning. Porky, ever the caring sort, dives into about a foot and a half of water. And now a sea star is plastered on his face. Oh. I thought it was just a small pond. I’m kinda scared of how high the tides reach here. Pinkie apologizes for his antics, promises to behave from now on, and is rewarded with an opportunity to bury Porky in sand. Pinkie has a drivers license and permit to operate dump trucks, and Porky now looks ready for a luau.

Time for the real reason any of us came out here: the swimming race! Porky’s gotta win, cause he has me on his side, and that means he has America on his side! At the starters pistol, Porky jumps right in while every other contestant turns back to get some sort of cheating device. Now I really like Porky’s odds since I’m pretty sure I’ve read that the odds of cheaters winning is somewhere around the never mark. This also proves that Porky is the kind of sports hero we can all look up to. (Was that Mickey clone #673? I thought they were all dead by this point.)

All the cheaters have unique ways of getting ahead. A cervine has sails strung from his antlers, one birds rides a bike (pretty sure that would be a major handicap underwater,) and an ostrich’s long legs allow it to run, rather than swim. That’s the worst kind of cheating. In fact, I’d say the only other contestant trying to be honest and likable is celebrity guest Eddie Cantor. He willingly drops out upon his discovery of, at last, a buoy! (He pronounces it the British way to make the joke work.)

Pinkie’s been hiding in that buoy, and he’s got a real trick this time. One that could affect everybody in the race, but his only target is Porky. He loves his uncle almost as much as me. Clearly. It’s a simple enough prank. He’s going to wind up a toy sailboat, and claim that its a shark. The sails do sorta look like a dorsal fin, and once it submerges you can’t tell the difference. Pinkie’s warnings don’t fall on deaf ears, and Porky swims like he’s never swam before. He’s a regular sea pig! He wins the race, no problem, and Pinkie swims right along after, cackling with delight. When he tries to show off his awesome prank, he pulls out an actual shark. (How couldn’t he tell? How much silt is in that sea?)

Favorite Part: One of the contestants is a goose. Another is some goslings doing some competitive rowing. The goose evens its chances by eating the babies. Now they row for thee.

Personal Rating: I think it deserves a 3, but if you can’t stand Pinkie, you’ll probably demand it stay a 2. And that’s okay, but I can’t understand your reasoning.

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Plenty of Money and You

“It’s the bane of digestion, but that’s not the question…”

Supervision by Isadore Freleng; Animation by Cal Dalton and Phil Monroe; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on July 31, 1937.

Ah, my advice was taken to heart! These pictures will be merrily rolling along until the studio has to close. I’d wager that we have maybe 27 years until then. I’m very good at predicting events that predate me.

On your everyday poultry farm, (which, incidentally isn’t really yours.) you can expect to find the galliformes and anseriformes that always end up on your plate either before or after utero. Er, ovaro. One hen’s eggs are just hatching into adorable chicks. There’s yellow ones, and a brown one, a yellow and brown one, a yellow and gray one, and a black and white and gray one. Must be a first clutch, given how shocked she is to see new life emerge from rocks that exited her cloaca. Maybe she’s just shocked to find they were fertile after all? A rooster with a condom just can’t be trusted. And then the last egg hatches.

Add a tall one to the list. A stupidly tall one, even. Heck, an ostrich one! That’s an ostrich, that is. An stupidly tall one at that. Biggest extant bird or not, those hens should still be taller if he’s just hatched. It’s a bit of a shock, but we’re not going to do the whole “ugly duckling” story here. Just standard, stereotypical, animated ostrich fare. I.E., eating whatever he comes across. He spots a fish in the opposite yard, behind a fence. He tries for that. I… I never expected an animated ostrich to try and eat something actually edible. Too bad the hole he’s sticking his neck through is too thin for the fish to pass through to the crop. It gets away, and I’m a little sad.

He has better luck eating an auto jack that he finds after tumbling into the farm’s basement. I’d like to know who is owning these fowl and whether he or she knows what is running around. Anyway, now the little guy is trying for something that makes actual sense for him to eat: a worm. A worm that I swear fluctuates in size, but never mind that. It can sprout limbs! I don’t blame it for fleeing. Yeah, something’s trying to eat it, but that thing also has permanent bedroom eyes. I don’t like that. Chicks were never meant to have those!

The worm escapes, and the chick gets distracted by a living hose that has nothing else to do but squirt him in the eyes. He tries to eat this, and manages to get a good length swallowed before it turns itself on and gives him a reverse enema. He hides his head under the ground. And I’m not upset about it. You see, he just hatched today, so he’s uneducated but what’s more, he’s escaping something scary that was squirting his eyes. It makes sense to try hiding those in the nearest place you can. The downside of sticking your head in strange holes, is you never know if something is already living there. Like a giant weasel, per se?

This guy has my sympathy. I too long for a chance to try ostrich meat without actually having to travel. It’d be one of those once in human history miracles, like finding a significant other online, liking black licorice, or having Bugs Bunny and Mickey Mouse in the same movie. This is going to be dream feast. Oh, but what’s death without a last meal? The chick thinks those fireworks will do just as well. And since he’s now been stuffed, he’s ready for the oven. I forget, do fireworks ignite just with the heating of the area, or would gizzard juices render them useless?

Never mind. The cartoon just answered my question. Bringing a new literal meaning to projectile vomiting, the weasel’s dinner has become very volatile indeed. Never thought I’d see fireworks coming out of the ground, but I also never thought I was any good at writing. The weasel doesn’t die, but he’s lost his appetite. He angrily gives the mother back what’s hers. Look at that adorable hug! She’ll know how to soothe his angry tummy; mothers have these magical healing gifts.

Favorite Part: The weasel’s cookbook. It’s entry on ‘ostrich a la king’ equates to giving up and getting some Chinese. And check out it’s pelican recipe. Judging by the ingredients, it’s “road” island style.

Personal Rating: 2

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Let it be Me

“Oh, Mr. Bingo!”

Supervised by Isadore Freleng. A Merrie Melody released on May 2, 1936.

Mr. Bingo is the talk of the town. All the hens huddle around the recording studio where he sings, and the radio where his sings come out. Even the married ones can’t help but fawn over the guy, much to their husbands anger. Much like a later picture, the guy looks like Crosby in voice only. At least here he isn’t being portrayed as coward. Just a cock. He knows the ladies love him, and he’s happy to let them destroy each other to get a hold of the boutonniere he throws their way. (After watching him walk for ten seconds. Gives us plenty of time to be attracted as well.)

Well, we’ve all had our celebrity crushes, right? (Mine was Tara Strong.) What’s important is that you come to the understanding that they will never know you exist and go about finding someone you actually have a chance with. I think that’s what’s going on through Emily’s head. She’s making her first appearance and unlike the second time, she talks with that (maybe not even) Bernice Hansen voice that makes her sound 15 years younger than she probably is. She has a guy interested in her named Lem, and I think the feeling is mutual. Good to see she wasn’t always so shallow.

Speak of the crooner! Mr. Bingo is driving by and he likes what he sees. Those breasts! Those legs! It’s what catches my attention on a chicken, that’s for sure! He invites her to come along with him to the city, much to the jealousy of Clem and that patch on his overalls that can shrink. (Why do some of the other birds in this cartoon walk around in the feathered nude? Are they the ones we get to eat?) Now, if those two really were a couple, then Lem really should understand that if a lady can upgrade you, she will. There goes Emily. Good-bye Emily.

Mr. Bingo has taken her to a party. There’s plenty to drink and he offers his new friend some. Maybe he wants her drunk, maybe offering her some is the gentlemanly thing to do. Emily is hesitant, and when she indulges, she finds it too strong for her. There is a singer at this party, and if the rules of this universe apply to her as well, I’m guessing her name is Ms. Fifi-o. Mr. Bingo likes what he sees and when Emily points out what a dick move this is, he has the waiter remove her. Stuck in a city without a ride home, Emily has no choice but to adapt. She makes ends meet by selling flowers on a very familiar street corner…

Good old faithful Lem! Even though his lady friend threw him aside like yesterday’s chicken feed, he still worries about her, cares for her, and keeps the picture she gave him. Since he’s not stalking her, I find the whole thing very romantic. But the biggest thing on his mind is Bingo. Just hearing that guy on the radio is enough to get Lem angry enough to march down to his recording studio and beat the gravy out of him. (And because of this, celebrities will always have protection from here-on out. Thanks, cloaca-hole.) It’s pure happenstance that he comes across Emily immediately after, but they look genuinely happy to see each other again. I support it.

Some time later, Lemily, as we should call them has started up a family. Things seem perfect, but one chick starts to sing like Bingo! No idea where they picked up that habit! (Surely, he’s old hat by now. Old shoe even!) Doesn’t matter how they learned it. Daddy is still triggered by it and throws his book at the chick. I’m sure her bones aren’t that fragile, anyway.

Favorite Part: It might be something that I’m reading way too deep into, but I like the reaction Bingo has when Emily can’t handle the liquor. Maybe he’s realizing she’s too immature for him? If I’m right, that was some great and brilliantly subtle example of showing. NOT telling.

Personal Rating: 2. I could see some people finding it a little too mean, but really, throwing away a good stable relationship for someone you barely know is worthy of a little punishment, right?

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Life with Feathers

“Aren’t you hungry?”

Directed by I. Freleng; Story by Tedd Pierce; Animation by Virgil Ross; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on March 24, 1945.

Some sort of domestic squabble is going on in a birdcage, and I’m proven right by one of the occupants being evicted. He tells us that he is a lovebird, that was his wife who hates his guts now, and as his name suggests, he needs love to live. No point in suffering. He begins brainstorming some ideas about how to off himself. I’m sure some people would think he’s overreacting, but I think it’s kinda sweet that he is dedicated to the one he loves if she wasn’t. If I ever lost a girlfriend, I’m sure I wouldn’t find life too enjoyable anymore, either.  He and I, we should be drinking buddies.

Fate decides his death for him with a cat who looks like he’s in the mood for a snack, seeing as he’s picking through the trash. This cat is Sylvester making his first appearance. And he rushes over once the bird gets his attention. He stops short because this seems too good to be true. He deduces that the bird is poisoned and just wants one less cat in the world. Because that’s what poisonous creatures want right? No point in living if you can’t ever be hugged. (On another note, pay attention to the speck of background between Mr. Lovebird’s wing and head. It’s also depressed as it turns blue.)

Sylvester’s owner calls him back for some milk. Wait, why was he picking through the trash if someone feeds him? (On another note, if you watch his face closely, you’ll see it has more white than usual as he zips into frame.) He spits out every drop once he finds out who was at the bottom of the bowl. Since Sylvester is paranoid and Mr. Lovebird isn’t going to explain why he’s come to the worst life choice possible, he has no choice but to order a mallet, smack the cat, then enter his mouth whilst he shouts.

Sylvester smokes a pipe to get him back out. (Hey, if you want to die so much, why don’t you just inhale that smoke that’s being inhaled. That secondhand stuff is deadly.) He traps Mr. L in a glass jug, and proceeds to open some cat food. (Does he normally feed himself solid food? He’s really well trained!) Whilst his head is turned, a very familiar looking feather drops into the bowl. Not daring to not look behind him, Sylvester doesn’t notice until it’s sticking out of his mouth. His worst fears are confirmed upon checking on the jug. He ate the dirty birdy!

Mr. L is okay though. This is all part of his master scheme: give Sylvester some pills, and hop on the spoon himself before it goes past the gums. Sylvester catches on. The bird decides to play fowl. He turns the radio to some sort of program that does nothing but ask if you’d like to eat this’nthat or so’nso. (Maybe it’s an ad?) To make things harder, Mr. L also shows plenty of pictures of delicious looking meals. The torture is working. (Do those fish have hair on them?) Sylvester soon gives in figuring if this doesn’t kill him, spending the rest of his life starving will. I’d say that adds up. Just before the deed is done, a telegram is delivered to the bird.

Whatever it said, it worked like a charm. Mr. L tells Sylvester that things will be all right back at home, so he doesn’t have to eat him. (On another note, his beak turns blue because it’s still depressed.) Too bad his treatment worked so well! Sylvester is still hungry and this bird on his had is worth two in any bush. The lovebird just barely manages to escape with his life. (Now, aren’t you ashamed you took it for granted?) So what was on that note, anyway? Has the Mrs. forgiven you for whatever she did? Better than that! She’s going to go live with her mother. Oh, Mr. Lovebird. Here I thought you were loyal to the end.

Well, you know what fickle creatures lovebirds are. Sweetiepuss changed her mind last minute, and Mr. L resumes his Sylvester chase. Since the little guy never made another appearance, I think he succeeded.

Favorite Part: One of the ways Mr. L tries to get Sylvester to eat is by dressing as Santa so he can give him a “present”. His pathetic, wimpery “Merry Christmas” is music to my ears.

Personal Rating: 3. A fine way to start a new character off. Good enough to be nominated for the Oscar too! But since it was the forties, you already know it lost to a “Tom and Jerry”.

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The Bird came C.O.D.

“Mm-nh.”

Supervision by Charles M. Jones; Animation by Ken Harris; Musical Direction by Carl Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on January 17, 1942.

Conrad! Hey, buddy! Haven’t discussed you for since the twenty-tens. Did you ever get more of a personality than Goofy wannabe? No? I’m sorry. You’ll always have a trio of posts talking about you eventually.

Conrad is playing delivery cat today. His company specializes in delivery of palms. Slogan is, “You grease ours, you’ll get yours.” (Clearly, I should have been writing for these pictures.) Being Conrad’s first film, he makes sure to look directly into the camera. Just to make sure that Mr. Jones know how grateful he is for this opportunity, and he could be the new breakout character for Chuck should Sniffles ever… you know… disappear. Just look at those exaggerated cartoon movements! He’s the ideal star!

His first problem is just trying to get the plant into the theater awaiting the delivery. It really does feel like a “Goofy” cartoon what with the tree getting caught on the door frame and flinging Conrad backwards, and the door shutting on its own when he thinks he found a solution by squat walking inside. No wonder Mr. Colvig would be voicing him. It was clearly always meant to be. Conrad finally figures out the secret: hold the door open with the delivery. Please, enter.

…AND BRING THE PLANT, STUPID! Geeze, hope you’re not expecting a tip after that. Now inside, all Conrad has to do is not trip and get it to its proper location. After he trips, he gets it to its proper location. Not even a scratch! Maybe he does know what he’s doing. He finds the old plant, switches it with the new, and is all set to go on his way, when he sees a top hat that has been left on the stage. That can only mean a magician has performed, and Conrad has always secretly been envious of those guys. He can’t resist having a little fun and pretending to be what he is not. (Without talking. He has no dialogue outside of nervous chuckles and exclamatory grunts.)

Wouldn’t you know it? First try and he pulls out a live rabbit. Even he wasn’t expecting to be that good. His reaction puzzles me. He looks less amazed and more nauseous. Does it smell that bad? Then it should have been a skunk. I bet Chuck could get a lot of mileage out of those. But what’s really worrisome is the other occupant of the hat. The title star finally shows, more than halfway in. Some early ancestor of Henery Hawk it looks like. But I guess he’s a dove? What magician uses hawks in his act? A fun-king awesome one, that’s who.

The little guy doesn’t seem too pleased to see some amateur messing with the hat, but he doesn’t do more than give Conrad a glare. Not even an angry glare, just a “do you mind?” kind of glare. And I get it. I hate when delivery boys bring me a package and then start looking in my drawers. But Conrad feels like he’s been the one wronged, and knocks the bird back out of the hat. Again, Little Birdy just kind of gives a look. A “this is getting old” look. He only slaps Conrad when the cat tries taking a closer peek inside that hat.

Angered, Conrad smashes the hat. Little Birdy is unharmed, but gives the peeking tom (cat) a poke in the eye. Come on, Conrad. It’s not worth it! He agrees, but decides to throw that hat rather than just leave. It comes back to hit him, and L.B. punches his nose now. Conrad should consider himself lucky, considering what silent birds usually do to cats, but he refuses to be three-upped and makes another attempt to get the bird. He’s caught in the act, and Little marches him back into the orchestra pit. I bet a lot of good slapstick is happening. You can tell by the number of instruments flying.

Now sporting a pair of black eyes, Conrad finally gets the hint that he should cut his losses before the bird cuts him. He takes the old plant and tries to flee, but runs straight into the theater’s brick storage room. (I love those rooms.) Dazed and disoriented, he next stumbles into wardrobe where he finds six more top hats. Surely you figured Mr. Birdy wasn’t the only one in the clutch, right? Too bad they don’t do more than pull Conrad’s hat over his face. Passive aggressiveness runs in the family.

Favorite Part: Conrad leaving the plant outside was a good gag made better by the triumphant music petering out.

Personal Rating: 2. I can’t relate to the main character because I think L.B. was totally justified in his threats. He deserves being the title character. (If only he showed up sooner.)

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Ain’t we got Fun

“3rd shelf: Things ‘n stuff.”

Supervision by Fred Avery; Animation by Charles Jones and Robert Clampett; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on April 17, 1937.

Let’s return to that strange time when Avery tried to make cute little mice cartoons. (Although, chronologically, this was the first of the three.)

It’s snowing. Isn’t it awful? I like the plan of Old man Numbles: sit in a comfortable chair in front of a beautiful fire. Only thing wrong with that? His cat beat him to the best seat in the house. Easy fix. He smacks it with his newspaper until it returns to the floor where it belongs. This guy isn’t just smart, he’s great with animals. I nominate him as my third grandfather.

As cats do, the cat falls asleep. Ever hear the saying, ‘When the cat’s asleep, the mice will creep?’ It’s playing out right now. Sentry mouse sends the word via paper airplane. Using a model that experience has told me doesn’t fly at all. Side-tangent, but if you’ve thrown the perfect paper airplane, you’ll spend the rest of your life cursing your inability to duplicate it. With the word spread, it’s creeping time. (It’s a hauntingly hypnotic creep. It’s also another great image to screen-cap for memes. When you become the trendiest person on the internet, the right thing to do will be to send me half of the money you made with this great tip.)

Cat’s out like an old fad. Feast time! While the food gags commence, the mice are smart enough to set another one on guard duty. If the cat appears, he’s to whistle. Just a suggestion, but you might want to take those crackers he’s standing in front of with you. I know mice, and I know crackers. Mice will nibble on edible things. Crackers can not be whistled through. When you put the two together, it equals trouble for your soiree.

And the giggles roust the cat. Um, you’re looking the wrong way, moron. The pantry was located to your right. His eyes have changed color, too. Maybe because if you squint as much as Numbles does, he kinda looked like Beans at first? Guard mouse can’t whistle to save his friends lives, but his ear can flash. Good thing a different mouse sees the feline and everybody flees back to the mouse hole in time. With the cat separated by wall, the stragglers hand him the food they pilfered from the pantry. Oh, Numbles! You might want to take a look at this!

The geezer ain’t happy.  Despite the cat’s insistence, he is deemed guilty and doomed to freeze outside. Strangely enough, seeing my two least favorite things together is actually making me laugh. Now the mice can really creep! In fact, things are so good that they sing our title song, with a few modified lyrics. And I think one of the singers is a doe. I mean, she’s(?) wearing a dress, but the singer’s all sound masculine. An oversight? Or an Avery joke? Guard mouse even got himself a metal whistle, so his snacking won’t be a hindrance anymore.

With less caution, the resulting noise manages to wake Numbles. The mice don’t fear him, so they pelt him with food. (I’m sure they won’t mind nibbling it off of him afterwards.) Remembering why he got a cat in the first place, he begs for it to come back inside, apologizing for the mix-up. Cat’s hearing none of it. The man can fix his own mess. It’s the mice’s taunting that convinces it to chase them back to the hole once more. Maybe now they’ll stay put. The cat claims the chair once more, andNumbles, realizing he owes him one, takes the rug instead.

Favorite Part: After smacking the cat away from his chair, Numbles throws a book at it for no real reason. Maybe you have to dislike cats like I do to get it.

Personal Rating: 3. Putting my personal view aside, I don’t think there’s too much cat abuse here for cat lovers to hate it. C’mon, he wins in the end!

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Porky’s Pet

“Tickets, tickets.”

Supervision by Jack King; Animation by Cal Dalton and Sandy Walker; Music by Norman Spencer. A Looney Tune released on July 11, 1936.

*Sigh* I was really hoping some sort of Christmas miracle would bring back my lost work. I promise, that’s the last time it’ll be brought up. Now, let’s discuss the first short to have Porky’s name in the title.

Porky’s just received a telegram from someone named J. Botts. (Jo Botts?) We never see the person, but they’ve got a great offer for my pig pal: A job that’ll pay seventy-five cents a week in New York, so it must be Broadway related. But it’s not just Porky who’s going to be big, so will his titular pet, Lulu. He rushes to her cage to tell her the good news. How cute! She’s a canary, then? She’s an ostrich.

Now, I’ve always loved ostriches. Probably my first favorite animal before I moved on to yaks, then bats, then newts, then goblin sharks, then hermit crabs, then hamsters, before making pigs my final choice. So I know a fair amount about the largest extant birds. For example, I’ve never known one to speak in a strange garbledygork of insane laughter and English mumblings. And her size and appetite mean that she must be a heck of a hassle of a pet. But I see genuine love in her eyes for the Porkster, so I can’t and won’t interfere with the heartwarming bond between them. (Though I COULD give her a good home…)

Well, with the future calling, P. and L. traverse to the train station. Climbing aboard, it appears that Mr. Pig can’t take a trip with a pet in tow. (Dogs are allowed but not ostriches?) Well, Porky just tells Lu to run ahead of the train and he’ll sneak her on. (Why not just ride her? How far is your journey, anyhow?) She may look like a birdbrain, but she understands and the plan works great. Porky was able to pull her into the moving train by her neck. He is our new god.

But now comes the difficult part: keeping her hidden. She’s a big girl, and is quite noticeable. Lucky all the other passengers are willing to stay mum on the subject. Still, she’ll have to stay out of the conductor’s sight. Porky stuffs her under the seat with some difficulty, but she’s a wide-open spaces kind of bird! She doesn’t stay put and decides to put her special ostrich talent to good use. That’s her appetite. She roams around the area eating whatever catches her eye. Toupees, toy planes, musical instruments. She’d probably eat a baby if she came across one.

Crap! The conductor approacheth! In a panic, Porky hides Lulu into the only thing big enough he can get his mitts on: a cello case. (Why did someone bring an empty one along?) This hardly works before Lulu stands up, giving the conductor quite the ride and interesting story to tell later on. When she’s revealed, he doesn’t need to react with surprise or fright. He grabs her without so much as a flinch, and throws her out the window. Porky is next to go, though he gets the more dignified exit via the back door.

The two are still a long way from Broadway, but their ingenuity sees them through. Tying a nearby handcart to a nearby cow gives them a means of transportation that’s even faster than train! Bet the conductor feels embarrassed now!

Favorite Part: A small thing, but I like how the concertina Lulu swallows is labeled as such. So many people think they’re accordions, but here you’ll have no excuse for the mix-up. (Unless you can’t read.) Together, we can help raise awareness.

Personal Rating: 2. I think I preferred Donald Duck interacting with an ostrich. Hortense was way cuter, too.

(And yes, I know female ostriches don’t have black plumage. But since this isn’t “Fantasia” I can use the grayscale to my advantage and blissfully believe that Lulu is just a very dark shade of brown.)

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Little Lion Hunter

“Shh.”

Supervision by Charles Jones; Story by Robert Givens; Animation by Philip Monroe; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on October 7, 1939.

It’s Inki’s first day on the job, so we can expect a few flubs. Example: despite what the title clearly states, he’s throwing his spear at any and all animals. (Although, in seriousness, if a giraffe chooses to bend down to eat, it’s asking for death.) Being early in his short career, Inki also looks a bit different than we’d later know him. He’s got large lashes, and a shiny black nose. Making it understandable that I used to think he was female, and you thought he was a deer.

The kid finds some tracks that surely lead to some big, dangerous game, so Inki takes cover behind a tree. And the ‘dangerous’ part comes true when we see what comes from the direction of those tracks: the world’s REAL most deadliest game, the Minah Bird. (You can identify him by his flashing wings.) He clearly didn’t make those tracks, he just killed whatever did for intruding on his territory. (If it was lucky, it wasn’t made to suffer. No promises with this bird, though.)

Inki makes another rookie mistake, he decides to tackle this creature. He follows it, waiting for the perfect moment to use his spear. It either never comes, or he squanders it, as the bird hops into a hole. Now, you should never, never, never ever, never, never, ever put your hand into any hole this bird hopes into, if you value said hand and think there will even be a remote chance that you will use it again. Inki is lucky today, just pulling out a sleeping skunk. Perhaps the bird is giving him one break for being so new at this.

Inki decides to hunt tortoises, as there is less danger involved. But after following the reptile into a log, he finds himself back in the company of the destroyer bird. Having not gotten the hint that he should really flee while he still has eight toes, he throws his spear. Bridging a gap that the bird had no problem jumping into, because even gravity knows better than to try and kill him. Hence the bird’s ability to hop vertically up a tree. Inki climbs up after him, and ends up with the bird on his head. Said bird tries to bite his nose off for daring to let his scalp touch the bird’s talons. (Well, would you like to tell me what the bird is doing?)

While trying to squish it or something, Inki only manages to knock himself back to the ground. He’s managed to escape painful death twice now, so he should really leave the mynah bird hunting to the professionals. (Current members in that profession: -1,000,000,000.) But hark, sounds! (In a jungle? No way.) Sounds like some kind of game is coming close. Inki just needs to listen to find out what he’s up against. It’s the very thing the title said he should have been hunting all along: a lion.

The lion is much closer than Inki’s hearing suggests, and the beast has to physically tap the boy to make his presence known. Inki immediately knows he is over his head now, and bolts without even looking at the cat directly. (Good. He’s learning.) He also knows the basic rule of lion survival: hiding in a hollow tree stump works! They are not one to question why a stump has an eye, or what those horrible screechy, scratchy noises are. (I guess there the sounds of Inki trying to creep away?) But he forgot that this trick only works if you stand still. Even lions know that stumps don’t stroll.

With the lion totally aware, Inki has no choice but to accept his fate. But just then, things are made either worse or better by the appearance of who else was in the stump, good old, terrifying old, the Minah bird. The lion isn’t aware that he should flee while the fleeing’s good; animals can’t learn from mistakes that will kill them. It pounces, and a terrific tussle takes place off-screen. When the bird is done proving who the king of the jungle is, the lion is roughed up, tussed up, and ready for slaughter, but the bird feels he has made his point.

Instead, he lets Inki know that he saved the kid from the lion’s digestive system, and kicks him for bothering him in the first place. It’s here where you learn the twist that I just made up: Inki had found a genie, and wished to survive an encounter with this bird, three times. He probably thought that would mean he’d kill it each time, but you know what pricks genies are.

Favorite Part: When Inki is hiding from the lion behind a tree, the lion taps him on the shoulder. Inki figures out who’s poking him by squeezing the lion’s retractable claw out. Nice subtle teaching!

Personal Rating: 3