Feud with a Dude

“Outta bed, you tadpoles!”

Directed by Alex Lovy; Story by Cal Howard; Animatin by Ted Bonnicksen, LaVerne Harding, Volus Jones, and Ed Solomon; Layouts by Bob Givens; Backgrounds by Bob Abrams; Film Editor: Hal Geer; Voice Characterization by Larry Storch; Musical Direction by William Lava. A Merrie Melody released on May 25, 1968.

Now the Hatfields and McCoys; they are feudin’ mountain boys and there’s only one thought rattling in their heads: Grab your gun and shoot, in the snoot or in the glute, doesn’t matter, just as long’s the other’s dead. At least they have the decency to greet each other. Only semi-politely because it’s harder to kill someone you’re friends with. And they got to kill each other real bad. Because politics. (You can always blame them.)

Age is no factor in this war. The elderly and infantile have both been shooting guns their entire respective lives. But there’s no need to say a lack of education led to this. These guys know their battlefield, and how to take advantage to gain the same. I like the guy who kicks ass, knowing it will kick harder and launch him to a higher vantage point. See, if it was me, I’d just be kissing it.

Flying above is Merlin. The magic mouse himself. He notes to Second Banana that the land below them is the Ozarks and that they are home to friendly hillbillies. Those are his words! I use the much more P.C. ‘hillwilliam’. And I guess that makes the bullets attacking your carpet, friendly fire? Down they go. Merlin has a parachute in his hat for situations like this, and they make it down safely. But will it stay safely?

It will not. Both leaders of the war want to know what side the mice are on. Since each mouse is facing a different man, both claim to be on the side of the one who’s asking. Usually a sound decision for keeping your blood inside you. But neither is buying it. Mice never take separate sides, so both get fired upon. Merlin, ever the peacemaker asks why the feudin’, boys. It’s recent enough that neither has forgotten: the Hatfield leader stole a hen, and the McCoy one took a pig. Revenge seemed like the next logical step.

Merlin has magic on his side and pulls both animals out of his hat, giving them back to their respective humans. (That is a good contender for cutest animated pig. Easily top ten. If it had a little birthday hat, it could make top three.) The men apologize to the other. They genuinely had no idea the mouse was the criminal mastermind. Oops. Can you do a disappearing trick? Those are the best because even if the crowd hates it, you won’t know.

The two are chased into a hen house. They claim to be chickens but Mister Hatfield can only believe that for so long. He says there are not chickens. And Merlin can live with that. But somebody has to be the chicken here, and since Merlin is a master hypnotist, it’s gonna the man. Now he scratches, pecks, cackles… come to think of it, I do all that too. But I didn’t need a hypnotist to get where I am today!

A swift kick in the rump is all that it takes to return him to normal. And that didn’t buy Merlin much time. Not that he’d get far anyway, there’s the rest of the recycled animated family to contend with. So he stuffs S.B. into his hat. (Which just feels wrong somehow.) And bolts behind a fence. He conjures up  a rocket ship. The best that money can buy! And since this is the late sixties, that means the live-action variety.

The Hatfields and McCoys, they’re stumped feudin’ mountain boys. Not sure how Merlin got the goods he had. Cause they’re admitting to the stealin’. And once again (with feelin’), things are the back the way before and just as bad.

Favorite Part: During the chase, Merlin magics up a door that stands up on its own without any supports. Hatfield knocks on it and McCoy (who simply went past it) tells him to come in. It was stupid enough to be funny.

Personal Rating: 2. They should’ve used the hypnosis more. It’s a fun trope.

Bell Hoppy

“This calls for a special meetin’ of the brotherhood.”

Directed by Robert McKimson; Story by Tedd Pierce; Animation by Charles McKimson, Herman Cohen, Rod Scribner, and Phil DeLara; Layouts by Robert Givens; Backgrounds by Richard H. Thomas; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on April 17, 1954.

The club, I mean, the club that any cat would want to be a part of is the LOYAL ORdeR OF ALLey CATƧ MOUƧING and CHowDeR CLuB. You will die and go to flavor heaven upon tasting their bunting bisque. But you won’t ever get that chance because they’re very particular about inducting new members. Sylvester has been denied and since you’re not better than him, you’ll have to settle for the club next door. “The not worthies.”

This isn’t the first denied application Sylvester has gotten. And constant rejections are starting to affect his speaking. He sounds as wistfully longing as a teen girl hoping that Bradley will ask her to the prom. Those cats are just the swellest swells that ever swelled. They hunt and eat. Maybe grab some tail on weekends. Hey, wait a minute. Are female felines banned? Are mountain lions banned? I’m guessing the one I’m petting right now says otherwise.

Meanwhile at Acme Rare Animal Importing Co., (So many kinds of illegal. Maybe just one, actually.) a man from the zoo has come to collect a baby kangaroo. The joey escapes and nobody sounds like they’re trying very hard to contain him. Sure, he’s cute now, but he’ll do you one. Maybe two, actually. And if he grows, then you’ll really be screwed. Show me a human who can stand up to a full grown boomer and I’ll scrape them off the ground.

The leader of the club that isn’t made for you or me finds the little guy whilst hunting for mice. This is just great, because this is definitely a giant mouse in front of him, and that would make an excellent banquet. And plenty left over to make into a kangaroux. (They’ll still call it ‘mouse’ though.) Turns out, he’s not any better at catching Hippety than Sylvester is, and is flung into the garbage. He needs minions, and it just so happens that he doesn’t lack lackeys.

His plan goes like this: stick a bell on the creature to hear it approach, then the whole lot of them can attack at once. Not a bad idea in all honesty. But while his subordinates will believe his crazy story without question, not one of them has the balls to put the bell on the beast. Well, welcome to your lucky day, because Sylvester is returning to ask again for admittance. Opinions tend to change on an hourly basis. The poo bah has gotten an idea!

Yeah, Sylvester can join. Just has to pass the initiation. Find a mouse big enough to put a bell around the neck of. I hope you’re willing to pay up should he succeed, since if he doesn’t you still don’t have any other willing participants. Sylvester will do anything to join, and that includes stuff that sounds implausible. But he finds Hippety and sees a membership in his future. Maybe he’ll get a hat too!

Hippety doesn’t want to be belled. Or, he doesn’t understand what Sylvester is doing, but finds the bell fun to dodge. Beating up cats is also fun, and Sylvester is flung away, with the bell ending up around his own neck. The club jumps him and gives him such a thrashing. You’d think they’d be glad to make this mistake, but they seem upset. It’s hard to enjoy anything you like doing when you’re hungry. Hence why I always post after I eat dinner.

Sylvester hides in a cart to surprise the “mouse”, but the target just bumps it and it rolls away. Clanging because it too, has bells on it. Sylvester is pummeled again. He tries trapping Hippety in a junkyard, but the little guy just bounces him off a plank placed like a see-saw. See? Yeah, he saw. In fact, Sylvester drops down to do the same in reverse. Turns out a baby kangaroo weighs more than your average alley feline, and Sylvester is flung near a streetlight. Hey, it sounds similar to the be-

He may not always use it to its fullest, but Sylvester does have a brain buried in that head of his. And it’s time to put it to work. He sets up a mirror in front of a missing fence post, where Hippety will see it. He does. He doesn’t stop, but it’s all part of the plan. Now that he’s seen his reflection, he won’t immediately flee or fight when Sylvester take the role of reflection at the next missing post. Hippety does notice things have changed. Or maybe he’s changed. Something has changed, and he stops to examine things.

Sylvester does an excellent job matching movements. I think Hippety is convinced that this is just how things are going to look from now on. When Sylvester puts the bell around his own neck, Hippety grabs it for himself seeing as how he’s the original. Sylvester has succeeded. I can’t believe I’m getting to type such a sentence, but here we are. Really puts the cat in cathartic. And the cat in Hippety. His pupils have gone vertical, so the change has already begun. Better hurry before you club members unknowingly commit cannibalism.

Hippety follows Sylvester and just so happens to run across the guy from the zoo. He knew waiting around for the problem to solve itself was the American way. Besides, now PETA can’t claim that the animal didn’t want to be in captivity. Hippety is having fun with the bell and rings it loud for all to hear. Like all the members of the club, perhaps? They jump in the line of a speeding vehicle. The club is no more?

Nah. Sylvester did technically succeed in his test, so he’s in. What’s more, they need him to keep the club alive. Their little mishap has landed them all in multiple casts. Hurtin’ but humbled. And unable to object to Sylvester naming himself as the new leader. I can’t believe how well things worked out for everyone! (And that’s coming from someone who used to believe ‘X’ was the sixth vowel.)

Favorite Part: You can blink and miss it, but I’d rather you didn’t. It’s the look on the club’s faces as their 45 lives pass before their eyes. Good think chowder can be slurped with a broken jaw.

Personal Rating: 3

Foxy by Proxy

“I’ve seen better heads on a glass of root beer.”

 

A rabbit as a fox in a fix.

Directed by I. Freleng; Story by Warren Foster; Animation by Virgil Ross, Arthur Davis, Manuel Perez, and Ken Champin; Layouts by Hawley Pratt; Backgrounds by Irv Wyner; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on February 23, 1952.

After swearing you’re having deja-vu, you’ll be having deja-vu. The opening scene has just been swiped from another cartoon. You’ll swear you’re having deja-vu! It’s made even worse by the rear being brought up by a pudgy hound. We might as well call him Lenny because if we’re going to rip off Tex’s stuff, he’d want us to do as much as we can.

Explanation:

That’s taking the ‘L’.

We do have a fun visual with the dogs being a canine tsunami. Their surging brings them to Bugs’s place, and he is nearly stampeded. Bugs doesn’t think too fondly of fox hunting. You’d think he’d be all for humans decreasing the numbers of one of his predators, but Bugs is top of the food chain. Lenny; slow of mind, slow of foot, asks Bugs where they went. Surprisingly, Bugs gives genuine directions. Lenny just shoves him aside. Fox caudectomy is the peak of entertainment!

Bugs decides to have some fun with his fur-suit old Halloween costume. But I think it’s just a boneless fox that Bugs deboned himself. Watch the eyes. They change. He gets the hounds on his trail, before ducking behind a tree. What fun! Lenny; slow of mind, slow of foot, (you’ll swear you’re having deja-vu.) comes up to ask where the dogs went. And I mean slow of mind. You see, Bugs’s hat is on backwards, facing the dog. When Bugs turns his actual head around, thus turning the hat around too, Lenny asks where the guy he was talking to went.

Bugs humors him and lets Lenny ask who he’s comfortable talking to. He sends the lug off, knowing he’s going to catch on soon. He does and one-eighties. Paydirt! By which I mean fox tracks! By which I mean, I’m a better tracker than he is because I can tell you those aren’t fox tracks. I don’t mean they’re just stamps Bugs left for him, I mean they don’t resemble the tracks of Vulpes vulpes. I demand it be accurate for your sake. I don’t want you to embarrass yourself by stating foxes have two toes on each foot in public.

I won’t deny the next tracks he identifies: train. But screw that! The fox is right there by the entrance to a tunnel. Knowing the dog’s limited I.Q., Bugs asks if he could even identify a fox. It is rather tricky. Sometimes they’re pilots, sometimes they wear socks, and sometimes they’re on fire. But this is what Lenny was bred for. He knows what a fox looks like, and Bugs looks like what a fox looks like. Looks like he’s a fox!

But wait just a minute! Objection, if you will. This dog was following train tracks. Ergo, isn’t he looking for a train? There’s one just inside this tunnel. That is flawless logic. Flogic. Lenny darts in and gets his prize. You know, it’s beautiful to see someone’s reason for existing come to fruition. Of course, now he has to find a new one or be put down. I like watching smiles slide off faces. There’s now only one matter of unfinished business: all the other dogs.

They’re a bit more disciplined and will need some doing to lose. Bugs goes through streams, through trees, through and through and winds up right in front of the angry hounds. Well, might as well come clean. He reveals himself to be a rabbit. The dogs decide they’re chasing rabbits. Don’t you hate it when cartoons suddenly have realistic outcomes? Bugs has to utilize the “luring chasers into a log and angling it off a cliff” bit. Always works. I hope the dogs are okay. I hope your dog is doing okay too.

Bugs confidently states that while the dogs could get a fox’s tail, they’d never get a rabbit’s. That’s your cue Lenny! Before Bugs can react, Lenny runs home the sole victor in today’s game. The humans disappeared long ago though, so I don’t know who’s going to reward him. Bugs decides to take things in stride. After all, Lenny only got the hair of a hare. Add shaved-tail Bugs to the list of cursed images, please.

Favorite Part: Just those dog masses. Look at them! They’re just dogs being dogs. Happy to have air in their lungs, not afraid of being seen as goofy, enjoying life. It’s make me glad that at least one species can.

Personal Rating: 3.

Little Beau Pepé

“A pitiful case, am I not?”

Directed by Charles M. Jones; Story by Michael Maltese; Animation by Lloyd Vaughan, Ben Washam, Ken Harris, and Phil Monore; Layouts by Robert Gribbroek. Backgrounds by Philip DeGuard; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on March 29, 1952.

Welcom to Le Desért Sahára! Oh, pardon their French. That translates to “The Desert Desert”. Where you can be sure to find three things in a cartoon: sand, a foreign legion outpost, and hot sand. Item 2 on the checklist is right over there. And it’s got a great array of troops. There’s Monocle, Eye-patch, Noselookslikeadragon’stail, and Magic Stubble. They’re hideous, but that’s okay. The people who end up here are the unloved ones who were never going to be anything but alone. (That’s me at the end there.)

Fittingly, the mascot is an animal that wouldn’t love anyone even if they were sexy: a femme pusseé cat. Plus, when you’re stationed in the world’s biggest litter box, they’ll come to you. In the meantime, there’s lots to do. That ladder isn’t going to paint itself. And Mel’s paint is the perfect color. It will reflect heat, and make gripping it less painful. And while it look compact, this fort always has room for one more. Uncle Francois loves all his nephews.

Enter our titular beau. He’s finally had enough of ladies running away from him, so has come to enlist to forget. Sadly, the commander, and every other human for that matter, flee before we can learn his social security number. I was going to use that information for innocent things, officer readers! Pepé is a mite confused at first, but quickly deduces that he has already risen to such a rank as post defender. I believe he could chase any threats away.

As he patrols, the mascot gets up for her daily ladder rub. It’s a cat thing, I’m sure. But she doesn’t look so cat like to me anymore. Thanks to Mel’s paint being the kind that takes 24 hrs. to dry, it’s still wet. And coating her fur in such a way as to suggest a skunk’s pelt. And Pepé is an addict, so he wasn’t going to make it going cold turkey anyhow. His best bet would be to wait a few decades, until women are allowed to be a part of the armed forces, then get enlisted in a mixed group. Skunks can live that long!

He relapses and scoops her up. She wants no part of this? I shan’t believe it! Pepé has wonderful genes to pass on! Good thing he’s the expert here, and can explain what’s going on. She needs to touch-up her make-up. Maybe make sure her pheromones are in good wafting order, groom a little, buy a bathing suit. Pepé can wait for the first one, but he’s been alone too long. If she’s not in his arms every second, his paranoia is going to suggest that she’s seeing other skunks. Hinky has power! Good looks get eaten alive by that!

Considering she didn’t even make it up the stairs, I think Pepé was right on the money. Besides, who doesn’t enjoy a good game of tag? He cheats and stays still, so she has to run back down and hide in a barrel. The same one Pepé was preparing the drinks in. As a teetotaler, she flees again and ventures out into the dunes. She’s not a meerkat; only a mere cat, and hardly gets anywhere before the heat starts driving her to exhaustion. Pepe is in his element seeing as how he’s a skink. (There’s no ‘I’ in ‘skunk’.)

Penelope manages to get to the nearest oasis. And it’s no mirage! And since the very appearance of a cat makes everyone vacate, it’s all hers. She heads for the life juice, but Pepé meets her there. Fear and exhaustion finally tag-team her into submission, and down she goes. Pepé gets her into the prettiest tent. Yet, she’s still out cold. How can that be when the man of her dreams isn’t even in them? This is going to require some stimulants. Smelling salts aren’t nearly so pleasant, what she needs is a good nose of perfume. This tent is well stocked.

Pepé mixes a little of each one together, and I think he concocted a winner! Green scents are nauseating, but pink ones are arousing! You’d think the delicious ones would have a more appealing hue than clear, but that’s neither here nor there, or even yonder. Pepé gives a good spritz, and plays some music to really seal the deal. His charms work like a charm and the lady awakens with hearts as her pupils. Further lending credence to my theory that the only problem with Pepe is that he’s a skunk! A lack of con-scent never played any part in things!

Sadly, Pepé is no different than any other males. He brags about being Chuck’s gift to ladies, but when an actual woman shows interest, he curls up in his shell. Unless she’s close enough to grab him. Then he flees. It’s a wonder any race continues to thrive.

Favorite Part: The look on Penelope’s face when one of the troops gives her a back scratch. That’s a look of pure contentment. You want inner peace? Find someone willing to do the same to you.

Personal Rating: 3. I’m still a staunch Pepé defender. I hope he’s in Coyote Vs. Acme. Ooh! And maybe they could reference his debut by making the French casanova just a character he plays on screen!

Wacky Wildlife

“HEY, MABEL! COME ON OUT!”

Supervision by Fred Avery; Animation by Virgil Ross; Story by Dave Monahan; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on November 9, 1940.

Why, that’s my favorite kind of wildlife! Margarineflies, marmaladefishes, jarnose dolphins… I could go on. Sounds like we’ve got another of Avery’s spot-gag shorts. Here’s hoping it lands on the high end of the wildlife scale. More Wagyu tapir and less dead zorilla.

Look! A deer! A fawn they call it despite having no spots. The script says it will drink daintily, and it does not. The best gags are always simple opposites. Seriously, I’ve never gagged louder. Next. A snake with hypnosis powers. Where did this idea come from? Rudyard Kipling? It half works on its bird prey. The avian stopping just short of the mouth and calling us the crazy ones for thinking he’d do it. The serpent just blinking confusedly. Yes, a blinking snake. Now that’s wacky!

Really lame cat joke! The bobcat and the tomcat are named Bob and Tom respectively. See, if humor was what you wanted, you would have switched their names. There is a bit of a cute bit with a pack rat. He takes an egg, leaving an acorn as payment. Good deal. We could always use more trees. Once back, he trades his new egg for that acorn. Repeat. A little slow paced. But fooled me at first. Thought he was going to have a funny reason for switching back.

The Everglades have alligators, and one looks to be inspiration for Donkey Kong’s Klaptraps. You all know the punchline: he’s been sick. And I will be too if I hear it again. I can’t do better, but I can do different. Narrator: “Say, what in the world happened to you?” Alligator: *points to some gator-skin luggage*. Now, to a fairly close relative of his, a passerine scolding her chick. He tells her to speak English if she has something to say. Not bad, but her reaction is a bit much. I think we could tell a joke was told, thanks.

Now, unfunny, untrue pig propaganda! The ignoramus narrator calling a beautiful boar a “dirty, muddy, sloppy mess.” And the porcine agrees deadpan. Now listen here young man! Just because society won’t see your inner beauty, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t. Do as I say and not as I do, because pigs are better than people. I’ve never felt judged by them. And the next joke I think is okay, but I’m not too sure which punchline is correct.

Goes like this: some mallards have just landed on the water in front of  a hunter. He shoots and three fly off, but not the last one. He’s got a U.S. flag on his wings. Is the hunter not going to shoot one of his own? Or is the duck not a coward? While I wait for an answer you guys will never give me, we look at probably the worst joke in the picture. A termite has chewed through a tree. And he shouts timber. What! Termites don’t speak English! That’s almost as wacky as a bobcat named Bob!

Give the short another point for the cowboy bit. I was sure the punchline was going to be him revealed to be riding a mechanical horse; not the horse patting its legs to make galloping noises. Take that point away for the camel bit. Remember last June? Tex’s unit did this exact same joke, just at the other temperature extreme. I’m so disappointed that I’m going to ruin the joke. YES, camels can get thirsty! Any animal would if they were in a desert long enough!

Let’s finale with another repeat tweaked slightly. A (wacky) wild animal that lives up to its name. A dog, rather than a cat. The reason? Loggers cut down trees. Much more realistic. Therefore, nowhere near as funny as last time. So was it hard for me to pick a

Favorite Part: Nah. That quote belonged to a bit that got a genuine smile out of me. It’s a coyote calling to his mate. Him panting at the end makes it work just enough for perverted minds. (Although, as a zoologist, I see it as a natural and beautiful pastime.)

Personal Rating: 2. I love animals too much to get too mad. And hey, there were a few segments that were decent fun.

 

Three’s a Crowd

“Friends! Romans! Countrymen!”

Animation by Rollin Hamilton and Larry Martin. A Merrie Melody released on January 17, 1933.

Give it a decade or two. I guarantee Two will be considered the new crowd.

I love reading. I love warmth. I love reading when it is warm. Summer is ideal, but if you have to make do in front of a fireplace, do so. The old man of the picture enjoys partaking in such lovely an activity, but it’s time for bed. That’s even better than reading! You can even do both at the same time if you dream about reading! You can’t actually read in a dream, but anything else is possible. Yay!

Of course, as a librarian, I can’t help but get angry when the old fart places his book upside down instead of using a proper bookmark like a civilized human being. Maybe if he had been reading “The Sound and the Fury” but it’s “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland”! Show some respect prickapuss! That’s a good contender for best thing ever written! The only good thing about this affront to literature? It allows young Alice herself to climb out of her story for a bit. It’s always the same no matter who reads it, so can you blame her for wanting a little variety?

She’s not the only one needing a change of page. Er, pace. Robinson Crusoe and Friday do too. (They were portraying him black even back then? Except for his flashing ears, of course.) Historical characters join in the fun as well. In fact, you could call this Warner’s first foray into the “books to life” cartoons. I do love stories where book characters meet each other. It’s a type of crossover that is severely lacking. I blame legal reasons.

Our title song is sung by, who else, the three musketeers. Can you think of any other book trios available at the time? Harry, Ron, and Hermione don’t exist yet, but that would make for an interesting timeline. I guess they could’ve used the three Christmas ghosts Dickens conjured. Antony then directs our attention to emperor Nero on fiddle. As his book shows Rome in flames. That a joke I don’t get? Or did he just want to play a torch song?

Even Uncle Tom gets a chance to sing. (Not that one.) I’ve never read the book he came from, but I do think he’d get along with Alice. Who I think would get along great with Dorothy Gale. How come no one has made that kind of crossover yet? I can’t guarantee it would be a pleasant, worry-free time. Books are full of various nasties and creepos. That’s just part of compelling fiction. And it’s about that time for one such type or the other to enter the scene.

I’d choose Clyde Griffiths. But the fiend in this picture has to be someone willing to carry Alice off. I can’t see him doing such a thing. Let’s use Mr. Hyde. And make him look even more animalistic than most portrayals. Cartoons can do that, you know. I admit, I haven’t read this guy’s book either, so I don’t know if his plan is to eat the kid or worse. What I do know, and he’s about to find out, is Alice has a good number of friends on hand. Loyal friends who have been around the block for a few centuries-decades.

Who do you honestly think would win: Hyde or Tarzan? I choose the latter. He was quite the bass, and he’s making Hyde want to hide here, too. Everyone join in! Robinson and Friday fire ink from a pen cannon. (It’s mightier than a sword.) Robin Hood fires flaming matches. And the musketeers use a pencil sharpener to fire pen tips. All deadly weapons to someone born from wood pulp and octopus defenses.

Hide Hyde! (It had to be used twice.) He chooses a box to duck into and the rest lock him in. He’s essentially created his own coffin, and gets thrown into the trash along with his older brother, the first draft. (Now there’s another good idea! Feel free to use it, and give me all the credit.)

Favorite Part: Cleopatra was said to be quite the looker, and the little dance she does convinces me. Plus, if you’re doing the bare minimum for story, you might as well throw in some eye candy.

Personal Rating: 1. You already know there are better, later attempts at this kind of short. There’s nothing here to make it stand out in any better way.

 

Little Dutch Plate

“I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!”

Supervision by Isadore Freleng; Animation by Paul Smith and Robert Clampett; Music by Norman Spencer. A Merrie Melody released on October 19, 1935.

I should really love this one. After all, my ancestry is Dutch. Except, I never really cared to learn about my culture, so I have no obligations to love anything other than the chocolates. And that’s because chocolate. Do you need another reason?

In a Dutch kitchen, the celebrity couple that everybody knows is the saltshaker and one of the plate illustrations. Two completely different art mediums, but they exist in a third one, so it could still work out. Without actual names, they had to settle for the first things I came up with. I like Salty and Illa. They’re a cute couple because the cartoon states it, but they also do a good job of completing one another. Without her, he’d feel empty inside; and without him, she’d feel flat.

This isn’t one of those “I long to feel my beloved’s hand but can’t, physically” situations. She can emerge from her plate anytime she wishes so they can dance and butt bump. That’s true love for a couple that are both ceramic. Although, I can’t help but wonder if there was a pepper shaker once. Salty may have loved her, but things didn’t work out. (Perhaps she was too spicy for him.) And Illa was the one to dry his Salty tears. Probably the only one who could. The plate drawings singing our title song don’t leave their plates. If they fancy a walk, they’ll have to settle for a roll.

Out of the garbage comes Billy Blech, the empty vinegar bottle. He isn’t going to let the humans who don’t exist on screen decide when he’s done living. But it didn’t make him bitter. He’s always been that way! (The jokes are too easy, and I wish life was as well.) Using a mousetrap to fling himself up to the counter, (That’s brilliant.) he witnesses Salty stick Illa into a mill-shaped clock. This works in his favor because he owns the mortgage on it. The humans are just figureheads in the kitchen kingdom.

So what do you think? Is the plate just Illa’s day job? She really seems to like this clock a whole lot more. Gets really upset when Blech tells her to pay or vacate. Unless she’d rather marry him of course. Ew, no. Confidentially, he stinks. There’s still a half-hour of time, so Salty offers to get the dough. Not surprisingly not making a pastry pun in a kitchen. We all know what would happen if it was to be literal.

Like all kitchens, this one has a piggy bank on its shelf. Maybe if I wish hard enough, it will be alive too. Whoops. I forgot that I only want easy things. It doesn’t move. It does have money inside, but though it may be a quarter (when compared to Salty’s height.) it’s still only worth one cent. Wait, how does Blech intend to carry all that he’s demanding? He’s only got a strong smell. (Ah, that’s the ease I want constantly.)

Salty (and his changing stomach label too) have a new idea to get the cash. Every member of this household has dentures because chocolate, and Pa’s addiction is so bad that even his false teeth have gold fillings. That’s what I’d call a million dollar smile, but the mortgage isn’t that high. We’ll just need the gold. Utilizing the bag of fireworks all Dutch kitchens have, Salty blasts out the goods.

Unfortunately, time’s up, but the figure carved into the clock hits the cuckoo into submission. He’s attracted to that other clock, so he sets the time back another half-hour. Wait, aren’t you two part of the same being? Is this arguing with your conscience, or trying to suppress an erection? Well anyway, Blech has decided he might as well abduct Illa and abscond with her into a third clock. Time is up! It’s also down and all around. Time for the ultimate choice: marriage, yes or no. Her answer hasn’t changed. Salty is the man for her and she’ll never abandon him.

Blech decides to just sawmill her with one of the gears. (Clever idea.) Her screams alert Salty to her whereabouts, so he rushes to the rescue. Good thing he has a bag of gold as a weapon. Blech never stood a chance. Salty rescues his lady just in time. Those were some very frightened screams, to boot. Kudos to voice acting! But there’s still Blech to deal with. (And his briefly disappearing label too.) Salty tried the lawful way; it didn’t work. Go to town!

He punches Blech’s head off. Try to remember he’s a bottle, but it’s still messed up enough to cycle back to hilarity. The body stumbles about for a replacement, and luckily for him, a different bottle has a head shaped top. And the body part doesn’t look like a human body, so it’s not just a decap’ recap. Even better, this new head is sexy. Salty, still salty, isn’t going to let that sway him. Here comes another punch.

Illa stops him. Turns out, she’s a bickle fitch, and opts for the visually pleasing guy as opposed to the one who can fight, went out of his way to help her, and isn’t considered garbage by the homeowners. And to further the misery, the cuckoo got tired of getting clocked, so he shoots his assailant. Moral of the story: salty people (and those who defend them) will never be happy.

Favorite Part: I may be reading this bit wrong, but the first time the cuckoo tries to call noon happened so fast, I thought it was just trolling. I choose to believe it.

Personal Rating: 1. Look, Illa can make her own decisions, but that doesn’t mean I have to agree with them. Maybe if they had shown that Blech was also now a perfect gentleman and abhorred violence, and Salty didn’t give a crap, could I support this. Probably could have fit it in if they cut the dancing and the shortened the beginning establishing shots. I just can’t stand when romantic partners leave for shallow reasons.

 

Hittin’ the Trail for Hallelujah Land

♪”You can’t fool us, we know that you’re a man.”♪

Animation by Isadore Freleng and Paul Smith; Music by Frank Marsales. A Merrie Melody released on November 28, 1931.

Piggy, Piggy, Piggy. What are we going to do with you? You’re almost as blatant a Mickey clone as Foxy. Losing the pants could help, but it’ll be a normal day in hell before we allow a pants-less pig to headline our cartoons. Look, we’ll give you one more chance. Just promise us three things? First, try not to rip off Disney anymore than you already do. Second, don’t utilize too much hurtful racial stereotyping. We’d hate to have to censor this short completely in the future. And lastly, don’t make men wince and clutch their genitals. That should be the easiest one. Do any of that, and you’re bologna.

Nothing could make a night more pleasant and relaxing that being on a riverboat. We call it the Steamboat Piggy, after the captain. There’s plenty of entertainment on board. They’re all animals, but they sound African American, so they don’t count as guests onboard. S’good music though. You hear it, and you’ll think you’ve died and gone to hallelujah land. We’re coming up on the closest landing, so if anyone is planning on joining us, you better he here or near. If we stop anywhere too long, the scent following that outhouse we’re pulling will catch up to us.

Fluffy is on her way, courtesy of Uncle Tom. He may not look too offensive, but if you get the reference, he kind of is. Doesn’t help that he’s not invited, isn’t paid, and can vanish from existence. But don’t let that ruin Fluffy’s trip. She is on a first base basis with the captain, so she gets to join him on the top deck. Watch him dance! Those musicians really know how to play! And raid Bosko’s wardrobe! But merriment melodies will have to cease as Fluffy has a premonition. In about half a second, Piggy is going to fall overboard.

Piggy falls overboard. He’s smacked a bit by the paddle-wheel, and lands in the river. At least there’s the most miserable excuse for an island nearby. It’s not called that because of the size, but because it’s not an island. It’s a crocodilian. Given the area, probably an alligator. Just one that was drawn more resembling a croc. Because why not suggest they all look the same? I didn’t think we were racist enough. Oh yeah, it doesn’t like being disturbed. It attacks the free pork dinner.

Piggy manages to get away in a pretty brilliant fashion. He hops aboard a log, attaches the leaves it had to his own tail, than pushes his belly button. Now his tail can make like a propeller and he gets away. Bumping into a rock flings him back up to Fluffy and allows him to finish his dance. Just like he never left. But you know, I feel bad for Uncle Tom. Why couldn’t he join us. He’s a good guy. I demand that we get to see what he’s doing at the moment. I also demand some Oreo’s. I’ll be right back.

Tom’s just on his way home. Since his donkey knows the way, he tries to sleep. Reason one why ungulates are better than cars. The problem is that its tail keeps flicking his face. He shouldn’t have to lean back, so he ties a rock to it. (Disappearing tail.) With more heft, it knocks him off the wagon and into the closest cemetery. These places always seem scarier at night, and that’s because that’s when the skeletons come out. I’d question why they want to hurt him, but they were clearly human, and he’s most certainly a dog. Best to keep him from chewing on their remains. Plus, they already have a dog skeleton here. The place only allows one pet.

The dancing skeletons advance, but didn’t foresee Tom trying to get away. And succeeding thanks to the missing section of the surrounding wall. If they only had muscles anymore, they might have, could have, fixed it. Tom takes the first boat lying on the path, and heads for the water. But he didn’t grab the bottom, so he ends up floundering. It’s a good thing that Piggy’s boat is slower than a glacier sloth. They’re still in ear shot, and Piggy valiant flings himself over the side to rescue the old dog.

That’s just what the random villain onboard has been waiting for this whole picture. Fluffy tries to fight back, but her punches are as soft as her name. As if Piggy hasn’t had enough rescues today. He dashes ahead to a pole with a hook and line on it. Probably supposed to be used for loading and unloading cargo. In this case, he hooks the fiend, and frees his lady from his clutches. The boat will just have to survive without them, because there it goes. So what should we do with this character? He’s not small enough to throw back.

Piggy has the most humane solution! Since they’re right by a saw mill, they lower him onto the spinning saw blade. Wow! Just wow. Wows all around. There’s really no other way to describe it! (It’s short for ‘what? ow!’)

Favorite Part: The tussle with the reptile was fun and frantic. Really sold it with all the splashing.

Personal Rating: Well, this is the eldest of the Censored Eleven, so I have to tread lightly. That’s how I’ve decided to say, I don’t think it’s as bad as the others. I don’t get to decide how bad it is, yes, but since they’re all animals, it just doesn’t scream offensive to me as hard as I should be hearing it.

What I can say, is it feels like two cartoons got smushed together. Stealing any setup the villain needed, slash taking time away from what could have been a Warner’s version of “Swing you Sinners.” If the music wasn’t so good, I wouldn’t be giving out a 2.

 

Prest-o Change-o

“It’s twelve o’clock!”

Supervision by Charles Jones; Story by Rich Hogan; Animation by Ken Harris; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on March 25, 1939.

Charles and Joe are on the run from the world’s scariest dogcatcher. Basically an evil silhouette with an eye. Shadows always are scarier when not attached to their source. But they still don’t have a brain, so the pups give him the slip by ducking into the nearest house. A sign declares it to be the home of the magician, Sham-Fu. Because why not advertise yourself as a fraud? Most humans will be too dumb to catch on. They’ll probably think it’s a riff on a certain dolphin, and that’s despite the fact this picture predates her by a couple decades.

The dogs are almost immediately separated. The doorway Joe enters just shrinks to nothing before Charles can follow. He wasn’t paying attention anyway, so all he knows for sure is his partner in whatever crime they are currently on the run for is gone. But there’s another warm body on the premises for him to interact with. None other than Proto-Bugs! Who possibly could be Sham, seeing as we never actually do that with a human. It’s just a stage name he uses to sell shows and afford this house. Probably just hires people off the street to pretend to be the magician. Always suspect the rabbit!

My theory garners more evidence by revealing P.B. can perform prestidigitation. For his first trick, or feat really, because it’s actually happening, he makes a decorative vase disappear and reappear in the air above Charles’s head. Then he makes himself disappear in the coat he originally appeared from. When the angry Charles tries to get him, he instead gets a dead lobster pinched on his nose. For a dog, that’s like you getting your eyeball pinched by a live lobster. As is the style of cartoons with these dogs, we will now switch to Joe’s escapades.

He has found a different sort of magic being. If that can even be the appropriate term since he runs into what is labeled as a “Hindu Rope Trick”. ‘Indian’ isn’t P.C. Or even just C., as this rope was born in Cleveland. It seems friendly enough, but without facial features, we’re just guessing. And we’re guessing ‘no’ since it refuses to shake Joe’s paw and thwacks him on the head. Does that count as punching or whipping in this case? Joe plans to give him what-for, (and we know what for) but it’s time to check on Charles again. I worry about him.

He has just managed to rid himself of the crustacean cadaver, when P.B. reappears. He can materialize a pop-gun, shoot Charles in the nose, then turn into a bush to avoid consequences. He also knows how to turn himself back to lagomorph to give the dog a smooch. Then, when Charles threatens to tear him a new one, he makes himself disappear into thin hare. Er, that ‘h’ is supposed to be silent. Um, Joe distraction!

Joe is following the rope still. Thank you, Joe. The rope snakes its way into a trunk and gets a hold of a magic wand. A prop holding a prop? What’s next, a star orbiting a star? The rope summons a vase to drop on the dog, then a pitcher to pour water on him. It’s very container based. The rope also disappears for a frame. It’s no slip-up, it’s magic! Joe next tries to rest the wand away, (losing his tongue in the process, which seeing as he’s not magic…) and in the scuffle he swallows the dang thing. Now he can hiccup canaries! Points for an original superpower.

P.B. is still picking on Charles. He disappears again, only to reappear again, to pinch Charles’s nose again. Then he flees again, but not into the air this time. He ducks behind a door, which he then turns into a chest of doors. This time, the ‘s’ is silent. Reappearing to tickle the poor dog and laugh about it. And now, back to the Joe show. He’s also gained the ability to hiccup helium balloons. Magic is allowing him to create an element out of nothing. I’m starting to see why Muggles aren’t allowed to know about these things. And here I just thought that magic types were dicks.

Joe tries to hold the hiccups in, but this just makes the balloon materialize in his stomach. He goes flying through the air, just as P.B. has locked Charles on the other side of the door. While the bigger dog demands to be let in, Joe crashes into the rabbit and they both go back out the door. When Charles gets out from under it, he finds P.B. somehow got himself wrapped up in the Hindu rope. Rather than risk giving him a new weapon, Charles takes the wrapped rabbit and puts in in a couple locked boxes. (One of which has a color-changing lock. I think it’s magic?)

Joe hiccups again, and Charles worriedly watches the resulting balloon. His fears are warranted, as it pops into P.B. and he shoots Charles a final time. He tries to disappear once more, but Charles has had it. He stops the trick, and gives the proto-bunny a punch. He is a boxer, after all.

Favorite Part: During P.B.’s first trick, he looks in Charles’s ear as part of his showmanship. Completely innocent and naive, Charles returns the favor.

Personal Rating: 3. As entertaining as magic shows can be, I can’t help but remember that I’m just being lied to. Animation is always very honest with me. That’s why it’s the only friend I have.

Screwball Football

“Rah. Rah. Rah.”

Supervision by Fred Avery; Story by Melvin Millar; Animation by Virgil Ross; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on December 16, 1939,

In my life I’ve considered there to be four major sports. There’s basketball, the only one I can watch and enjoy. Soccer, one I never had interest in, but never thought was worth hating. Baseball, which I don’t give a dang about. And American Football. The one I never could understand the appeal of, never bothered to learn how it was played, and do my best to pretend it doesn’t exist. Sounds like it would make for a great Avery gagfest.

Time for a game at the Chili Bowl. (I’ve bean there.) The crowds are literally colorful, literally roar, and are literally dogs. The weather is behaving, so infants can get away with wearing as little as possible. One in particular is constantly eyed by the older gentledog next to him. I will dub him Mr. Poe. First name, Kree. Luckily, what he’s really after is the pup’s ice cream. Constantly sneaking licks whenever the little guy’s head is turned. Still belongs on a watch list, because he’s probably giving the kid Parvo.

The game begins, and a lot of the gags are okay at best. Players dance effeminately; they are kicked in the end zone instead of the balls; said balls are the ones carried away on the stretchers. Gregory (who has a brother in prison) is a 12-year bench warmer who is finally getting a chance to play. He comes back in a full body cast. Constantly shattering expectations; that’s our Gregory!

Have time? ‘Cause it’s Half time! Music is played while the sides change. The players are given a chance to really grill the coaches on their lousy work. And now we can get to the best part of any sport, the final part. Players catch players and get rewarded with smooches. Touchdowns get interrupted for commercial breaks. (Gives the thighs a chance to phase off the plane of existence.) And the cheerleader’s head breaks up with the neck to do some bouncing. This is during the time when cheerleaders were guys. That’s not a joke. Wasn’t until WWII that women became synonymous with the activity.

The game can only end when the gun fires. When it does, the score can be tallied and winners decided. Ah, there we go. I was starting to worry we were going to reach feature length and get called Field Jam. Or since it’s FOOTball, would it be Toe Jam?

Favorite Part: That wasn’t a game official firing the shot. The baby was sick of having his dairy devoured, and put some lead in Kree’s head. You gotta respect the cream.

Personal Rating: 3. The puns are kinda lame, but there’s plenty of slapstick violence that I think make it pretty enjoyable. But if it’s extra enjoyable you want; with more dogs playing, I’ve got just the thing!

And now I must ask you to watch one more thing.

Come, friends. Join me in a squee. And fantasize who you want to cameo in this. Here’s my picks:

  • The Dodo
  • Ralph (Both Wolf and Phillips)
  • Bosko (I know that’s a pipe dream)
  • The Mynah Bird
  • Sniffles
  • Charlie
  • Snafu (Another long shot, I’m aware.)