Category: First Appearances

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

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Two’s a Crowd

“Oh, you darling little fellow!”

Directed by Charles M. Jones; Story by Michael Maltese; Animation by Ken Harris, Phil Monroe, Ben Washam, Lloyd Vaughan, and Emery Hawkins; Layouts and Backgrounds by Peter Alvarado; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on December 30, 1950.

Claude has it good. Catnip candy, his own bed, toys, and he doesn’t have to share any of it. Sounds like this should be disrupted! As it turns out, the lady of the house just had a birthiversary. And John really wanted to prove he loves her, so he got her a puppy. So lively and frisky. You should call him Lively! Either that, or you can suggest your dog frisks people. You do you… is a statement I dislike because it sounds to me like you’re telling someone to @#*% themselves. Now, back to the show.

Claude is not pleased. The tiny creature has got to go, lest it keeps reminding Claude that its cuter than him. The lady, Dear, does question what they will do if Claude doesn’t like the cutie. Simple answer isn’t it? You get rid of the cat. A dog is better in every way, anyway. That’s John’s reasoning anyhow. And Dear is fine with it. Did either of you actually adopt him? Or did he just come with the house? With his home on the line, Claude comes out and fawns over the little muffin. Even keeping his cool when Frisky bites his nose. This has healthy relationship written all over it.

Now, most humans lose interest in their new animals shortly after obtaining them. To whit, John and Deer are off to the movies. Claude can house train the little guy. But right now, what Claude is smelling is an opportunity. He can off the pup while they’re out. NO ONE WILL EVER KNOW! Once the humans leave, he reveals that he’s no declawed cat. He’s ready to skin the whelp alive or dead. He’s not going to be replaced. He’s not yellow figuratively, just literally. He’s-

On the ceiling. That little pup is fast! And Claude always has had a bit of a nervous temperament. When the dog barks, he flies into the air. It’s annoying, but harmless as he always lands on his feet. Claude thinks he’s got in cornered in the closet, but that was his own mirror reflection. The mirror breaks, but the pieces that fall out are the ones that surrounded Claude’s impact. And here I thought the results would be mirrored. (Man! How do I only average 200 visitors a week?)

This requires bait. Puppy biscuits are just the thing! They’re crunchy, flavorful. Need any other reasons? Frisky follows the trail Claude has led to the washing machine. Drowning him and breaking his bones? Diabolical! Dogs love their bones! Too bad Claude not only got his tail caught inside, but Frisky ducked back at the last second. Luckily, it all comes out in the wash, and Claude exits looking like a Cheetos snack somebody left in a glass of water. (Incidentally enough, that was my grandma’s preferred way to eat them. I hate myself for reminding me.)

We’ll need to try again with different bait. Sausages linked to dynamite will do. He whistles for the dog, who then warps from where he was standing to walking towards the meat treat. Frisky gobbles them down whilst Claude takes cover. He’s then horrified to find the dog came over to thank him personally. Claude hides from the combustible canine in the closet, and finds out that the little guy got full before he ever touched the spicy parts. Seven lives left! That should cancel out the broken mirror’s powers.

Simplest is best, so Claude just chases Frisky with an axe. The pup’s secret advantage? He’s small. He easily fits in the heat vent. Claude goes to get a plunger, giving Frisky the chance to escape. Claude’s adrenaline powers him up something fierce as he pumps plenty of suction into the furnace. He gets a wealth of burning coal and a plume of fire in the living room. Suddenly, I get it when people say a cat brings warmth to a household. Won’t the parents be pleased!

Nope. Deer is devastated; John is livid. No way an innocent baby did any of this. Claude is kicked out of the house but permanently. And I say without irony that the cartoon ends happily for everybody. For you see, Claude sneaks back in for his revenge. Simpler than an axe is giving Frisky a dose of his own medicine. Claude does a great impression of a dog barking, and Frisky is equally talented at playing a scared cat. Never knew his claws could grip like that!

Favorite Part: That puppy biscuit box may look like gibberish at first glance, but it becomes legible English later on. Basically stating that any animal can enjoy these things, because all animals have the same kind of digestive tract, right? Do you think the Jones unit had any idea that people would be able to catch such details in the future?

Personal Rating: 3

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Porky’s Duck Hunt

“It’s me again.”

Supervision by Fred Avery; Animation by Virgil Ross and Robert Cannon; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on April 17, 1937.

Porky, Porky, Porky. What are we going to do with you? We all love ya, but your voice… The polite way to say this is it’s too expensive recording that stutter. The honest? We feel bad for you when you speak. Get it under control, or we’ll have no choice but to bring Beans back out of retirement. Maybe Buddy as well. Look, we’ve booked you an appointment with some guy named Mel. He has a habit of performing voice miracles. We think you’d make a perfect match.

And were they ever! Right from the get go even! A marked improvement in every sense of the word. Porky had good shorts before, but now they have the chance to be greater than great. Superb, even. Maybe a summary would convince you? I know its hard to accept the fact that wonder can occur in the world.

Porky has decided to take up a new hobby. It requires bullets, decoys, and a suit that he looks adorable in. He’s going to hunt ducks. What jolly fun! Especially if you’re not a duck. (Geese think this sport is a hoot.) He must have some experience killing animals. I can see the tiger head on his wall, can’t you? But he’s still inexperienced. Never, repeat nine times, NEVER aim your gun at your dog. That’s just mean, not to mention potentially dangerous. Porky laughs this off, and claims its not loaded; pulling the trigger to prove it. The man living above him pays a visit to punch Porky’s puss soon after. I call that karma.

I also call ducks delicious, so Porky has my support. At the lake, he sees a juicy morsel in the air right away. He does his best to be as quiet as a louse, but he’s not the only one here today. It’s like it’s duck season, or something. Fortunately for the bird, nobody here knows what they are doing and every bullet misses. I’m happy I live in a world where bullets don’t just litter the ground should you miss your target. Couldn’t be happy for the ecosystem. Porky is smarter than humans, so he deploys decoys so he won’t waster resources. Will they work?

If by ‘work’ I meant a meat duck could hide in plain sight amongst them. They work beautifully. The duck quacks at Porky’s back, and acts wooden when Porky tries to catch him. Porky’s not crazy though! He’s the only one who’s not crazy in this picture! His plan is to tie a decoy around his head, then sneak under the water to see which duck has legs. That’s his dinner. Or trophy. But that’s a waste of lovely meat, and mouthwatering fat.

Turns out, guns don’t function so great after being submerged. Porky can’t do more than squirt at the fowl, so it takes off. (After letting out a weird shout. The same shout featured years later in “A Corny Concerto“. Odd bit to reuse.) Luckily for Porky, this doesn’t cause his dog to appear on screen and laugh at him. Besides, once the water’s been cleared out, it’s ready to go. The duck has landed on a barrel of beer, (all good wetlands have these) and Porky’s bullets hit that. The duck flies away, and the hooch flows into the water. What an effect that could have on the local fish, and what an effect it does!

So drunk are the little guys, they’ve forgotten they can’t breathe out of the water. Without that fear holding them back, they giggle like schoolgirls as they load up onto a rowboat for a bit of serenading. (Hey. Where’d the fifth one come from anyway? Answer: an egg.) They enjoy this privilege that no fish has ever had the pleasure of before. No wonder humans do this. I hate to see them leave, but they’ve got a whole world to explore now. Porky acts more dry than the fish are now. (“There’s s-s-s-s-something f-f-f-fishy about th-that.”)

When the duck next tries to escape, Porky manages to shoot him down! Amazing and radical! He sends his dog to retrieve the goods. (Dog’s name is Rin-tin-tin.) Dog comes back all right, but the duck did all the retrieving work. Now Porky, he’s a good boy. Does what he’s supposed to and snitches on rule breakers. As such, he calls the duck out for not following the script. Back at this short’s debut, I imagine audiences were blown out of their brains to hear the duck not only respond, but tell Porky to not worry as said duck is crazy. He hops madly into the distance. Very daffy of him.

Porky next tries to hunt on the water. That’ll keep him hidden? Well, it was nice of the fish to let him borrow their craft once they got arrested for the boat version of D.U.I., regardless. Since Porky isn’t you know, hidden by any definition of the word, the ducks aren’t here. He decides to eat his lunch. As it turns out, that little black duck is quite the influence on the others, and they fly down to quack every time Porky turns his back. During the confusion, he ends up pointing his gun down when he fires, sinking his boat, and getting taunts from Joe Penner. (Ouch.)

Rin then gestures Porky over. Oddly, Porky’s hat is on the shore as well. And Porky returns with the decoy still on his head. Was this originally supposed to take place earlier in the short? Why though? And why change it? To make it funnier when that screwy duck returns and spouts today’s quote? (He may be duck sized, but I feel like he should be bigger.) He flies away again. Porky has at least one more toy to try though: his duck call. Blowing it attracts all the other hunters you forgot were hiding on the other side.

More trouble than its worth, Porky throws it away, but it lands in his dog’s esophagus. More bullets follow every time he hiccups, meaning pig and pet have to run home if they want to see tomorrow. Poor Porky. Maybe I should call him ‘Poorky’. Nah, I don’t want to rub it in. How about a compliment? I really do think you look cute with lopped ears! Or more like deaf ears that my compliments are falling on. Porky sulks, his mood not being helped by his dog still quacking. Only thing worse than losing is being reminded you lost.

Once home, he can’t even take a breather because the ducks flew all this way to mock him with aerial acrobatics outside his window. He tries to take them out, but used all his bullets at the lake. All except that last one that tends to get stuck at the back of the barrel. It only comes out when Porky throws his gun on the floor with frustration. The guy above gets another shot in the cheek, so Porky earns another pop in the nose. (Wait, that window to the right suggests there’s nothing but outside outside. Where’s that interior outside the door coming from?)

During the ending card, that duck shows up again to dance about the credits. Something tells me we haven’t heard the last from him. I think W.B. might have discovered a brand new personality type for Toons!

Favorite Part: Very hard to pinpoint. Avery’s unit was in top form here. But it has to go to the electric eel that appears in this picture. Yes, it looks nothing like its namesake as has to be labeled for our dumb butts. Yes, it has little limbs making it look more like a siren. (The amphibian ones.) Yes, this clearly isn’t South America. But… it IS freshwater! Holy opposite of Heaven! Do you know how many times I’ve been yelling at screens; insulting animators for putting that kind of fish in saltwater? It’s over 9.

Personal Rating: 4

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Little Orphan Airedale

“It’s not good for me to be roughly handled.”

Directed by Charles M. Jones; Story by Tedd Pierce and Michael Maltese; Animation by Lloyd Vaughan, Ben Washam, Ken Harris, and Phil Monroe; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on October 4, 1947.

A break-out is in progress. Looks like the Phantom Blot has finally had it up to here with prison life. It’s clearly done a number on his psyche, as he digs his way out like a dog. Actually, it is a dog. And this is a pound. One that gets a hefty chunk of taxpayers money. Got a little courtyard and everything. Still, prisons are prisons. And sometimes gulags. The dog escapes, but the warden’s on his tail.

Lacking in hiding places, he hops into the first car with an open window. The pursuers keep on their way, but that doesn’t mean nobody witnessed him. Charlie Dog, in his film debut, is in this car. And he knows this guy! This is Rags McMutt. Pretty rude of his parents. The first part, anyway. There’s no shame in being a mixed breed. We really ought to be encouraging dogs to do that more often.

Charlie doesn’t worry about these things because he has an own-… mast-… I really don’t like either of those terms. Even ‘human’ isn’t entirely accurate. Let me pretend you haven’t figured things out and allow me to explain. Charlie was looking for somebody to love him. Some might say that’s a horrible way to go through life, but that’s because they have someone who loves them. Leave me and Charlie alone.

Charlie’s methods did not include the soulful eyes routine as he suggested Rags try. Rather, Charlie just mimicked everyone who passed by. People who can laugh at themselves make great friends, right? Maybe this is just his way of mocking the people who aren’t going to have the privilege of sharing a home with him. He thinks he finds a sucker in the only other non-human walking around: Porky Pig. He follows after, making sure Porky can see him pushing the elevator button and unlocking his door, for him. Porky compliments him for his courtesy.

He doesn’t allow the dog in. You mean to say that holding doors out for ladies hasn’t made me attractive either? Good thing we’re not talking about me, then. Charlie lets himself in to give the spiel: Porky doesn’t have a dog, and Charlie’s lacking a home. They could solve both their problems! Charlie’s a mix of various sought after breeds, can do tricks, and even offers to chase cats. Is that really a selling point? I’d imagine it’d only work on two groups: those with severe allergies, and me.

Charlie talks a big game, but the cat he chose to chase beats him up and returns him to Porky. He ships them. Porky still isn’t convinced, and tries to fling Charlie out. That’s when the dog mentions that it really isn’t a good time in his life for that. What with his condition and all. A condition he whispers to Porky, and I was too dumb to realize he was alluding to a pregnancy. I guess I should’ve understood when Porky gets outraged at learning the dog’s name is Charlie, but that’s a pretty unisex name anymore. He gets flung through the wall after all. Porky is macho.

Charlie next tries to guilt him with a phony snow storm in the hallway outside Porky’s apartment. Porky agrees to keep him from freezing, and lets him in. And you can’t claim Porky is dumb and didn’t stop to think about how snow would be falling in a building. He was luring Charlie inside, so he could say the pup needs to stay in a doghouse while he’s there. Then, nailing him inside what is really a crate. To Australia!

Charlie returns almost instantly. (But also took the time to make stops in places like Bikini [Bottom] Atoll.) He’s also picked up an accent. Bless Mel, he’s trying, but it sounds more British than Aussie. I can’t believe I’ve found something Mel couldn’t do. And I won’t believe it. Australian accents probably weren’t distinguished in the ’40s. Now, Charlie claiming male kangaroos carry joeys around in a pocket: that’s always been blatantly false. But I do like him trying to demonstrate by shoving Porky down his pants. I just typed that. Aren’t you proud of me?

Charlie finishes his tale, saying persistence paid off. And here comes Porky now. Shall we take the other dog in too? If only. Porky never got convinced and throws Charlie out again with another demand to stop following him. Charlie laughs it off and disobeys. Now that Rags has seen the kind of time and effort required in getting a home, he returns to the pound begging to be reinstated. You don’t really know what it is you have until you put it in perspective.

Favorite Part: Charlie isn’t just homeless, he’s ruthless! When he sees a man who is clearly stunted mentally, Charlie mimics him as well. I’m well aware that says I’m also quite lacking in ruth, but I see it more as innocent naivete. And that’s how I hear most humans talk, anyway.

Personal Rating: 4. I will never understand why Charlie never caught on better. I still claim him as my favorite fictional dog.

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Sniffles and the Bookworm

“Yeeeaaah?”

Supervision by Charles M. Jones; Story by Rich Hogan; Animation by Robert McKimson; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on December 2, 1939.

Sniffles has taken refuge in a book shop. It’s got everything one needs; books and shelter. While napping, the second half of the title pops out of a row of books. He’s terrified to see a new creature and flees for help. Sniffles isn’t too bothered by the little guy. His smile suggests he finds him cute. This is their first meeting, so they’ll have a great story to tell each other’s future offspring.

The ‘worm knocks on a book because books are basically stasis pods that house their major characters. He’s scared, sure, but he’s an intellectual and knows a mouse when he sees one. He chooses the Pied Piper to aid him. That guy ain’t afraid of no rodent and walks through the repeating background section of the store to rid the store of vermin. I’m sorry Sniffles, but it is what you are.

It’s then that the insect’s gestures hit him: those weren’t gestures that suggest a small mouse. They were suggesting a big mouse! Or at least a small woodchuck. He’s going to need some help! He chooses a viking. From a history book? Does this mean you could summon anybody from an encyclopedia of famous people and make some kind of extraordinary league? I think Amelia Earhart, Gregor Mendel, and Osamu Tezuka would be nigh unstoppable. Your move, pestilence.

As the three advance, Sniffles follows behind as casually jaunty as can be. When the Bookworm realizes this, he runs over his aides to hide. They follow suit, and once round the corner, finally get a look at the beast. They’re a little miffed about B.W. exaggerating again. You should have seen what happened when he looked in a mirror for the first time. The piper decides to jam with Sniffles and provides him with his own pipe. This gets the nursery rhyme characters singing. But they can shut up now. Is this place telling me I can purchase a four volume set of Porky Pig books? I’ll sell anyone to slavery for that!

B.W. also joins in the festivities once he gets a horn of his own. Now this place is jivin’! There’s no corner of the store our music can’t penetrate! And unfortunately, Frankenstein’s monster doesn’t seem too pleased to be awoken. Really woke up boxy today, too. Like Minecraft Steve spliced himself with a moai. He takes some time getting to everyone, but once he does, everyone flees. (That viking stole Sniffles’s nose!)

As the monster reaches for the Bookworm, Sniffles can’t help shouting out “Stop!” Why, the monster never realized someone would ever challenge him! He chases after the mouse. Sniffles gets rid of him by tripping him over the side of the counter. He’s fictional, so that shouldn’t have hurt him. It was very humane. Finally, Sniffles can go back to resting. The hole B.W. made earlier is gone, leading me to wonder if this was supposed to be a dream.

Maybe it wasn’t, as when the Bookworm pops out again, he gives Sniffles a smooch. Or maybe he’s more friendly in real life? I’ve found most insects are. Those wasps were really swell gals once I decided to not swat them.

Favorite Part: I like how the ‘worm looks when he’s “running” for help. Looks like how scared pancakes do it.

Personal Rating: 2. This isn’t one of their better “book to life” shorts. Barely any unique characters doing anything. The most fun Chuck’s team does is inserting their bosses’ names onto the background books. At least the Bookworm is still pretty cute.

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Dog Gone Modern

*Whimper, whimper, whine*

Supervision by Charles M. Jones; Story by Rich Hogan; Animation by Phil Monroe; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on January 14, 1939.

The first appearance of Charles and Joe! If you don’t know who they are, shame on you for not reading any of my previous posts! No, don’t bother looking for any links. It’s not really a punishment if I provide an easy out now is it? If this is genuinely your first time here, I apologize.

There’s an open house that has a unique twist: it’s one of those electronic does-it-itself types that basically does all the living for you. It’s easy, but boring. But easy, so I’d buy it. And hey, open house means open to any species! And if dogs want to see if they’re a good match, I say let them. People aren’t supposed to judge humans who want to remain single, so why can’t dogs get the same treatment? If they can afford it, it’s theirs’!

Charles and Joe decide they might as well take a look. They’re a little spooked that the door opens via electronic eye. There’s a sign right there, you two. Just look to your left! And Charles? Please stop turning a darker shade of brown. You’re not an octopus. And don’t think I don’t notice that white ear, Joe! Honestly, you’re both too old to do these kind of things in public. Maybe you aren’t responsible enough to be homeowners. Take the free tour and get lost.

They manage to figure the door out and enter. Joe is definitely scared, but tries to play things cool. They both jump a bit when a recorded voice welcomes them to this house of tomorrow. They’re free to press any of the buttons they find, as they will start a demonstration of one of the many functions the place provides. Just be careful around the electronic neuterer. It’s still too aggressive. Joe pushes the first button he comes across: the one for the automatic sweeper. It just needs a reason to be called, so the house gets some cigar ash on the ground.

The vaguely humanoid sweeper works wonders. We like to call her “Electronic interior aide” or “Elia” for short. She does her thing, and goes back to her closet, which relieves the dogs. Things without faces aren’t relatable. Joe opts to push another button, this one labeled as “Automatic Control”, but the sign changes when he attempts. Now saying, “I wouldn’t touch that, chum.” Joe is upset, and this proves that at least he can read. Why didn’t you read that electronic eye sign? What and what aren’t you guys capable of?

Charles has made his way to the kitchen and decides to see the electric dish washer in action. He can read too. Maybe it’s this house. It raises the I.Q.’s of all inside it. That makes sense, right? The procedure goes off without a hitch. The dishes are washed, dried, and ready for use. Back with Joe, he decides to hit the switch regardless of warnings. Now saying “O.K. buddy, you asked for it.” the house… opens a panel. Well, what do you expect from about twenty seconds of build-up? Most of which was off screen. Wait, why am I defending such a lame payoff? Because it successfully scared Joe.

Darting into the kitchen, Joe gets the door to smack Charles into the washers grasp. Sucks for the big guy, but at least its gentle enough. Joe then laughs, but I’m not entirely convinced its at his brother/boyfriend/husband/good friend. It looks like he’s amused by the device labeled, “Napkin Folder.” I bet it is the former, but Chuck’s guys really should have made the off screen Charles exist in a different direction. Speaking of the folder, Joe pushes it in his mirth and ends up in a drawer. He doesn’t like it in there. The real napkins make fun of him.

He runs for it as best as he can, knocking Charles back into the dish washer clutches. Too bad that one was operated by a flip-switch. It’ll just keep going and going until it runs out of juice. And I don’t think future houses have that kind of problem. Joe got himself free from the napkin ring by crashing into an ornamental pot. Elia returns, even though her button wasn’t pressed this time. She’s evolving! She proves how advanced she is by making the conscious choice to sweep her debris under the rug and make sure no one caught her. Give her a face and I might be desperate enough to court her!

Joe then finds the best device this shack has to offer: a bone dispenser. He can’t enjoy himself, because it landed on the floor and Elia takes it away. (I saw your torso change color too, missy.) While chasing her, Joe knocks Charles into the washer once more. Can dogs prune? Elia takes refuge in her closest and knocks the pup into an electronic music maker. It looks like a piano with arms, but it has other instruments. And scary heads that sing along. Wanna see my impression of this house? I’m the automatic bowel releaser!

Joe gets knocked around by the instruments and ends up launched into a vase. Once on the floor he realizes who’s coming, and darts off. Guess who he knocks back into what? Wait. Instead, consider this: Elia is out of her closest! Joe finds the bone she stole and takes it back. She isn’t about to let him get away with this, so Joe runs again. Dogs are good at that. He ends up on a rug that flies around the house. Because future. You won’t even need to use an escalator to reach your second story anymore.

Charles has gotten himself free again, and this time tries to skedaddle when he hears Joe’s approach. He gets scooped up on the rug, and both end up landing in the garbage disposal. Don’t worry! The future ones aren’t blenders hidden in your sink. They’re just chutes that lead to the cans. Elia shows up, knowing her target would end up here, but Joe kills her with a hammer to her “head.” He can now enjoy his bone. Nope! Charles has been through the wringer more today, so he keeps it for himself. All that and he’s bigger too!

Favorite Part: The pups have been making dog noises the whole picture. It catches you off guard when Joe laughs like a Mel.

Personal Rating: 2. It’s cute, gotta give it that. But Charles got stuck in a running gag that I don’t think needed to reach a fourth go-around. I like cute Chuck. I adore actually humorous Chuck.

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There Auto be a Law

“The automobile is the American’s prized possession.”

Directed by Robert McKimson; Story by Tedd Pierce; Animation by Phil DeLara, Charles McKimson, Herman Cohen, and Rod Scribner; Layouts by Robert Givens; Backgrounds by Richard H. Thomas; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on June 6, 1953.

I don’t much care for cars. They pollute and are too difficult for me to control. I’d learn, but the rest of the world would need to slow down and have a little patience. It’d be much easier to eat my way out of a bowhead whale. In one sitting, yet. But yeah, cars is our focus today. Not the Pixar series that everyone hates too much. (No seriously, “2” is a pretty good film.) Car gags, car jokes, and a car toon. Now that I’ve made the most obvious and trite one, we can see what the professionals have come up with.

We begin with a brief history of the motorized land vehicle. They were originally invented to be a horse that didn’t eat plant-based food. The name ‘Horseless cariage’ seemed a good fit, so they were named thusly. You could whip them just like a horse, so it wasn’t a difficult adjustment. But some cars were more stubborn, and would require four hands to get it moving. (Shoving.) Speaking of, the animation gets really jerky. What happened, Bob? Should I blame Herman?

As is the way of the human, they would get bored with current designs and constantly feel a need to update what was well enough left alone. Okay, so the windshield was an improvement. And the heater. The cup holders too. Everything else was extraneous. The suckers never stopped being expensive, but everyone and their dead relatives wanted one and couldn’t be denied. This led to the invention of something totally unexpected, the traffic jam. Sometimes it’s because of a wreck, sometimes it’s just a manner of too many drivers. This time: it’s a woman reapplying her make-up. (Hey! We know you!)

To try and keep things moving smoothly and quickly, highways were invented. Basic ones with little imagination, to full on clover-leafs. Those are expansive enough to get lost in, and such is the fate of an unlucky driver I’m gonna call Preston. He pulls over at the convenient hamburger stand for directions. If he keeps to the right, he should get out okay. Awfully decent of that man. I’d have said directions only come free with a purchase of a combo meal.

Sometimes roads would need to be built across bodies of water, and tolls would be charged to cross. It’s half price today, because the bridge is half built. You know, I might have called this my favorite part in the narration didn’t explain the punchline. We can see the joke. I’d be willing to let it get as far as saying “Oh, that’s why!” But please, respect my intelligence, and acknowledge my existence. (You really need two people to believe anything before there’s a possibility of it being true.)

Intersections can be scary. Especially the one’s located in Wile E.’s desert. You get in a wreck here, you lose your car and become more closely acquainted with the elements than is comfortable. Our driver stops carefully, looks both ways, then proceeds at an appropriate speed level. One of those people who think they are above fair rules drives right through him. The elements get their prize this time. But the real problem here is: Did Preston get off the loop safely?

He has not. He asks the burger man again and he’s still happy to help. Though, he says to go a different direction and keep left this time. Something wrong here! Maybe it’s as simple as getting kicks from sending people the wrong way, maybe it’s a devious punishment for not buying a delicious burger. Those cows died for you, you know. You really want to tell their calves that mommy died for no reason? No, veal isn’t an option.

We have cars that are good enough for a daily drive about town, but if its speed you need, you’d do better to look into a hot rod. These cars get rid of the all the junk that was just slowing them down, and allows you to attempt a new speed record. 130 mph isn’t too bad, but better can be done. That horseless carriage that goes by whip power humbles you good! It was fast enough to go through time, so you don’t have a chance. Just an overbite.

Parking spaces are where cars go to nap when you have no need of them for the moment. Some people make a decent living placing your vehicle in them while you spend your time entering buildings, getting on subways, and switching cars to avoid the cops. It takes finesse and skill. And not letting the customer notice you can scrunch their car width-wise to make sure it would fit. But there’s some decent folks in the world too. Those who will actually let you siphon gas. Don’t swallow it. It gives you carpox.

Preston pulls over one more time to see if the third time is the charm. Finally, the burger man admits the truth: he never knew how to get off this loop and has been stuck here for a decade. That’s why he built this stand; to fend off starvation. You’ll notice he doesn’t advertise his burgers as  being made of beef. It’s a good thing Preston was the second person who got stuck here today. At least now he’ll have someone to talk to. With no other option, Preston opens a topping stand. When that time traveler’s whip arm wears out, they’ll be just what he needs.

Favorite Part: A man taking careful measurements to be absolutely certain his car will fit into a garage. (Owned by Ken Harris, no less.) This could go several ways: it still doesn’t fit, he puts two cars in, he crashes, or he could really throw a loop and drive away. The right answer: he drives through two trees that weren’t growing far apart enough to pass through.

Personal Rating: 3. I’d like to give it a four, as its one of the stronger gag shorts, but I feel like that’s being a bit too generous. Just pretend I use decimal points and call it a 3.5.

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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