Category: One Shots

No established characters here. Doesn’t necessarily mean that they automatically suck.

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Streamlined Greta Green

“Mama!”

Supervision by Isadore Freleng; Animation by Cal Dalton and Ken Harris; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on June 19, 1937.

Today’s short takes place in an odd world where automobiles are the dominant life-forms. Post “Maximum Overdrive” they’ve revealed their plans, but pre-“Cars” every meat based creature has been eradicated. It’s a nice middle ground where we’re still sharing the planet, but we humans know our place in this car-dominated society. And the segregation doesn’t stop there. Witness the hall where only Taxi cabs are allowed to dance.

Okay, I did my research and now know what the joke is. It’s just literal now. You know, this world is kind of weird! The cars aren’t limited to driving on all fours; sometimes they get up on two. Tires are rubber, so they can shape themselves to be feet and hands. But boy, does it look unnatural and painful. I’d hate to imagine what the copulating must look like. Of course, I’ll be wondering from now on, since our main character is the result of that. I don’t know enough about vehicles to give him a clever name, so I’ma call him “Royce”.

Royce longs to be a Taxi, because I guess that’s the cool job in car town. I figured the race cars would be the rock stars. And the ambulances make more. So, how do the garbage trucks sell themselves? While I puzzle that, Royce’s mom find him planning for his future. Most parents like to see that, or at least tell their kid to not worry yet. She reacts with anger. No son of hers is going to be a taxi. He will be a touring car, like his dad who doesn’t exist on screen.

Royce refuses and his mom drags him home by his… part of him that the tires go under. (I don’t care.) He’s not to be punished, it’s just time for school. Was he playing with her lipstick? Why are his lips, (or just mouth I guess,) so red? She fixes him some lunch for later: a can of oil maybe?, a jar of traffic jam, (heh) and a thermos of gasoline. (A slightly color-changing thermos.) It’s sweet. I really can’t help but love scenes of parents loving their children. Royce should be grateful to have her.

She puts the meal in his seat, (How is he supposed to get that out?) sends him off with a loving pat, and gives his daily reminders about staying away from traffic and railroad crossings. (Her right rear axle keeps disappearing.) I do love Royce’s pouty face. On his way, he comes to what many of us only come to figuratively in our lives: a crossroads. One way goes to school, the other, the city. He hardly hesitates before choosing the latter. It’s closer! Maybe if his mom left his gas where he could actually get it, he could make longer trips.

The city is louder and less friendly. Royce should be glad there are no cops around. He shouldn’t be on the sidewalk. (Why even still have those?) He waits for the light to turn red, then gets on the road himself. Cars don’t have as many complex emotions as we do, so when the light is green, those behind him drive as if he wasn’t there. Good thing he just slides over them. Seems traffic was as dangerous as mom said. He manages to take refuge in a marked safety zone and gets a brilliant idea: carry it with him to be invincible. Gravity is the only foe he can’t conquer with that, so he falls into an open man-, excuse me, I mean car hole. (Egotists.)

Royce decides to make a stop at a service station for a drink. The human slave manning the place has many delicious flavors on hand: rose, violet, ethel. (Shouldn’t that be ethANOl?) Royce selects the Hi-power stuff. Probably not the best drink for minors, but the slave is not allowed to talk back to his overlords, and just comments on how strong the stuff is. And how! He basically gave the kid steroids. Royce is so fast, he could win a Piston cup before they’re even invented!

This speed stuff is great! In fact, disobeying his mom is what got him full of it, so he might as well go against her other wish and screw around by the railroad tracks. (The trains don’t seem to be sentient yet. Do you really care why?) Driving alongside it, he darts ahead and just barely passes in front of it at the nearest crossing. That was fun! Again! Wow, twice as fun that time! Again! Ah, if only poor little Royce listened to his body. He’s burning through that fuel faster than he’s traveling and he runs out right on the tracks. No fake-out crash for him. The train mows him down.

Now we see why the cars continue to keep us around: our fingers make us excellent mechanics. Royce’s stricken mother can only wait outside while her baby possibly gets patched up, possibly gets rebuilt as her daughter. Not to worry though, the surgery was a success! Royce leaps with a sudden jump into her loving wheels. (Was a cel lost?) She’s happy he’s still running, but like any good parent, scolds him for disobeying her. Royce doesn’t want to hear it, and runs off to race the next train.

Even though he’s out of speed juice, he makes it through unscathed. (Just ignore his bandage disappearing and reappearing. I’ll notice it for you.) He taunts, unaware that he’s on more tracks. And he’s mowed down again. This time it really is a fake-out! Those mechanics have earned another week of life, seeing as how the train ends up looking like I expect Royce did earlier.

Favorite Part: Royce encounters a road hog when racing the train. It’s a literal pig. Only adds more confusion to what this world is, but I like swine.

Personal Rating: 2. The world is still weird! And isn’t even able to function without humans, so the immersion kind of shatters for me. Not to mention the cars uncanny appearance when they walk. I gave it an extra point for the imagination it did have, and the mom car. Royce doesn’t deserve her.

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A Fox in a Fix

“Ooh! You evil genius, you!”

Daffy dog and egg head.

Directed by Robert McKimson; Story by Tedd Pierce; Animation by Rod Scribner, Phil DeLara, Charles McKimson, Emery Hawkins, John Carey, and J.C. Melendez; Layouts by Cornett Wood; Backgrounds by Richard H. Thomas; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on January 20, 1951.

The lights on the farm are out, which makes it the perfect time for sneaking. A fox I’m calling Chum descends down with a sack. Either he’s prone to hyperventilation, or he comes to pillage poultry. It’s the latter, and it’s hard to blame him. Freshly snatched hens taste way better than the dead ones at your local grocery stores. They’re also susceptible to fainting spells, so there’s hardly any struggle. There’s also the old ‘chickens wearing bloomers under their feathers’ bit, but it’s barely on screen, so I barely laugh.

As he leaves, he gets caught by that bulldog who features in McKimson shorts, with a great bit of reaction animation. (Although the fog is a little distracting.) In his usual passive-aggressive tone, he talks to Chum. He understands that foxes like chickens, but seeing as how he’s the watchdog, it’d look bad if he didn’t do his job. Chum was just lucky he didn’t trespass on one of those places where he’d be slapped around. (As the dog thusly demonstrates.) All things considered, he gets off relatively unharmed, with just getting tossed off the premises. (Caniformia privilege means no penalties.)

Chum vows to get his dinner and comes up with a brilliant idea! Sharing a common ancestor means it will be easy to disguise himself as a Canis familiaris. Then, the watchdog won’t automatically evict him on site. Just got to shave some of the bushier bits, and WHAMMO! Instant foxhound! To really sell the illusion, he’ll have to prove he’s not nocturnal by entering during the dangerous daylight hours. Then, he’ll play up a sob story of being a hard-luck dog who is dying of starvation, thirst, and rabies.

It doesn’t work, but it does. That means that the watchdog knows exactly who it is because he operates on smell rather than sight. Whoops. However, he doesn’t let on, and invites Chum to stick around for a while. Even offers to share his food pellets. Being domesticated is worth it alone for the “meals”. The chickens seem to like him; being creatures that operate on sight rather than smell. Love the tension on Chum’s face as he tries his darnedest to fight his predatory urges.

Now one of the pack, Chum tries getting what he came for. The watchdog stops him with an offer: why not become a watchdog himself? He could get a real home, with a real purpose, and all the pellets he could eat! The watchdog even offers to train him. They’ll start with lesson one: watchdogs attack burglars. Teaching will be taught via role play. Chum will be the dog; dog, the burglar. Chum complies and learns lesson two in the process: burglars carry bits of lead pipe that they crush dog craniums with.

Lesson three is one anyone could do, even you: fetching a stick. A very important part of watchdoggery, to be sure. How else would you know to bring back whatever is left of a burglar after you’ve massacred them? Makes excellent fertilizer. Chum passes with flying colors, of course. His reward is to do it again! The best teachers are the ones who can disguise the fact they’re teaching you at all. Thus, the watchdog sends Chum after a lit dynamite stick to demonstrate lesson four: burglars will trick you if you don’t kill them fast enough.

Chum has survived his first day of training, so it’s time for well deserved rest. That watchdog must be very sure of his safety, if he’s willing to share his sleeping quarters. But then, maybe Chum can’t revenge murder on an empty stomach. With his nemesis bedding down for the night, Chum goes to the coop once more. He gets his prize, but the watchdog is always on duty and stops him again. Chum decides to literally pull the ‘somnambulist card’ which states that you DON’T wake a sleepwalker. He could be very embarrassed.

Chum exits the premises, and now I love the chicken’s “what’s the use in struggling/is this real” expression. Chum lets her go when he eyes a much meatier prize: one of those cassowary sized birds that isn’t even a cassowary. Boot camp WAS worth it! But lesson five is to not be greedy, and he failed that one. Non-silent chicken is dog! (Chum’s shadow disappears. I know that’s common at night, but I still felt it worth mentioning.) Knowing there’s no way out of this, Chum flees and hitches a ride before he has to hear any more lessons.

Turns out lesson six was really important. It’s to not hitch rides with strangers. Otherwise you might find yourself a fox in a furriers truck. They operate by smell too you know.

Favorite Part: Chum’s run when he has to play along with the lesson plan. It’s reluctant, disgusted, humiliated and really sells the image of a child who is being forced to play with a younger sibling.

Personal Rating: 3. High 3.

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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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Freddie the Freshman

“Hi-ho everybody, hi-ho!”

Animation by Isadore Freleng and Paul Smith. A Merrie Melody released on February 20, 1932.

Who’s the freshest kid in town? Don’t be so sure you know if you’ve already read the title and watched the cartoon. Okay, I’ll tell you. It’s Freddie the Freshman, that’s who! Unless you’re a fish, I don’t think that’s something to be proud of. But maybe they just mean his dance moves? Or his breath? How about his car? I want a car that can piece itself back together when it breaks into pieces. I can see it now! (Because my eyes are open.)

So, now we know who Freddie is, but where is he going? To a party of course! That’s where all the fresh men go. They’ve got music, and dancing, ladies and guys; I really can’t remember the last black and white cartoon that showed an actual bull. And I think the lady dog is Gigi before she met Goopy. Freddie pulls up, has a stroke, (No really. Was that intentional?) and his car finally puts itself out of its misery. I’m sure as a spoiled yuppie, Freddie already has a new one in the mail. (Or maybe not. But he looks yuppie-esh.)

The party can really get going now, since everybody knows Freddie and loves Freddie and secretly wishes they were Freddie regardless of who they are now. Gotcha! Hugh Heifer doesn’t think much of him. Because there’s always got to be one person who is insecure about themselves and is envious of the people they aren’t. But that doesn’t matter because Freddie has Mickey clone #53, the most blatant one yet, on his side. (Why do all these mice like hanging out in cuspidors?)

Freddie has all the confidence that they will win the game tomorrow. Hugh disagrees. What do you think? Is it just because he’s on the opposing team? Or cuz he also wants Freddie to fail at something? (Should he even be allowed at this party?) DAY OF THE GAME! Everybody is here! If they’re not here, then they’re nobody. Simple logic, really. And we get an early version of the “cat eating” gag (sadly not a “cat-eating” gag,) from “Goopy Geer.” They really trimmed it down by then, as it originally had a 4th cat who licks his lips. On the better side, at least there’s no chewing with the mouth open. That’s always gross, no matter how little of the color spectrum is used.

The name of the game is American football. There’s the kickoff, and Freddie’s teammate, Porgie the Porkman catches it in his belly. If he looks uncomfortable, it’s only because he has unwittingly committed cannibalism. Freddie kicks the ball back out and makes a play that Bosko will steal someday. This game is more exciting though, as the players have to navigate ponds on the field. Freddie paddles along, but the duck opponent has an advantage and gets the ball past the goal.

Now, because you’ve been bad, you get two jokes that aged poorly right in a row. If the big-beaked parrots being jewish doesn’t offend you, how about the over-the-top gay cock? Wow. Freddie, forget the game’s score, your picture just lost a point itself. Take it up with the rule book. It clearly states that as time goes on, any joke that makes fun of groups of people will be considered mean and wrong. I didn’t write that rule. I kinda miss the days when a man in drag was considered a joke and nothing more. And fat shaming. Fat shaming was fun. (You’ve read the blog rules right? “Don’t take me seriously.”?

When Freddie gets the ball again, he’s got the entire opposing team chasing him. I think. The shot shows them running towards him head on, but they don’t meet up. Freddie has a brilliant idea though. A fresh one! He rolls a fence into a loop, and hamster-wheels his way through the opposition. Hugh tries to stop grab him while Freddie traverses the underwear on the clothesline part of the field, but the title song is getting another go. Freddie’s win was inevitable after that.

Favorite Part: Blowing raspberries is gross, childish, and just too raunchy for sensitive folks. Having Hugh say “Raspberries.” is funny if I get to say so myself. I do? Thanks!

Personal Rating: 2. I told ya it dropped a point. Sucks, but the rules are iron-clad.

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Bone, Sweet bone

“Where’s my dinosaur vertebrae?”

Good old Shep.

Directed by Arthur Davis; Animation by Don Williams, Emery Hawkins, Basil Davidovich, and J.C. Melendez; Story by William Scott and Lloyd Turner; Layouts by Don Smith; Backgrounds by Philip DeGuard; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc. A Merrie Melody released on May 22, 1948.

The local museum has some great fossil exhibits on display. Just now, one of the employees is putting together the latest specimen: a carnivorous sauropod. Man, there are so many secrets that the past continues to yield. What could be next? Jurassic cattle? Triassic chiropterans? Cambrian cetaceans? We’ll never know everything. Join me in being sad. Misery loves company, they say.

The scientist looks to be part of the Fudd family tree. But he sounds like a perpetually whiny Bugs. I kinda want to kick him. Okay, you got me. I really want to kick him. Of course, maybe he’d sound a little less brow-beaten if his bones weren’t constantly snatched away. Shep, a little dog, is the culprit. I don’t know if this is “Take your animal to work day.” (My favorite non-existent day.) or if the guy is even Shep’s dad. But you’re a man of science, you should know better than to let a dog have access to meat bones. I was lying when I called them fossils because it attracts patrons.

The man find his last piece missing, and Shep admits to the theft. He leads back to his burying place, but its already been dug up by a bulldog who’s on his way. The scientist demands Shep get it back because… he hates Shep? I don’t see why you can’t make an attempt, aside from the plot demanding you stay out of this. And if Shep doesn’t comply? The man plans on putting HIS bones on display. That’s gruesome! You better not be his dad, or I’m taking him away from you.

Shep likes his bones where they are, thank you, and sets out on the quest. Once he’s gone, the professor finds the missing bone in his pocket. Huh. Would’ve figured that would be the final punchline. Crisis averted, he tries to call Shep back, but ultimately decides exercise is good for dogs and doesn’t bother. So… the tension’s gone right? Why should I care if Shep gets the other bone back? And why did he say he took it? Did he just think he did? Why would the man have a spare bone on him? Do you always bring one to work?

Shep sneaks into the bulldog’s yard as quiet as a louse. Too bad he can’t change the color of more than his nose, or he could be as loud as he wants AND invisible. Utilizing cotton and lullabies, he keeps bullsy from waking and takes the bone back. He’s caught before he can make his escape and is kicked like an American football out of the yard. He next tries digging under the ground, grabbing the bone that way. Again, the bulldog catches on. He swipes the bone back, then baseball bats Shep out again.

The only altitude left is the one at telephone line-level. Shep sneaks over and opts to Mary Poppins his way down via umbrella. Operating by Toon logic, that is, whatever is funniest, it operates by real world logic and he drops like a stone.  (Mary Pop-rocks.) Be the ball, Shep. You haven’t tried basketball yet. Only two more and you can be the O.G. Airbud. Nah, he’s got more self-respect than that. He’s going to try the “brains” method.

He makes a large bone out of plaster, and stuffs it with T.N.T. Then, he walks in front of his adversary with what looks like an awesome prize. Amazingly, the other dog is willing to trade. (Or he is just trying to keep Shep from realizing he switched the two, but I like my answers more than correct ones.) The explosion doesn’t hinder him much, and he rockets after the thief. Shep hastily nails some boards over the gap in the fence, but the bulldog knows all the tricks of his yard. Like how the fence is basically just one big door anybody can easily open.

Shep flees back into the yard and retries the strategy on the other side. The bulldog is surprised he didn’t learn this old trick, as he’s clearly a new dog. He runs after, not noticing Shep also built a brick wall. Bricks and mortar are always more powerful than gunpowder. Always. I said al-ways, understand? Shep even puts a lily in the bigger dog’s paws to prove he died. Shep finally brings the bone back to the museum. The scientist finally reveals the truth: Shep got boned. The poor dog learns to speak, just so he can tell us that yeah, he’s a smidgen upset about the whole thing.

Favorite Part: The bulldog inexplicably having corresponding outfits to the sporty ways he evicts the intruder. Dogs are always cute when dressed up. Always. (Etc.)

Personal Rating: 2. No, really, guys. Why reveal the twist so early? Instead of hoping Shep will atone for a mistake, we just end up feeling bad that he’s getting beat up. I mean, yeah, he got back a bone that I guess was rightfully is, but if that bulldog ever comes back to life, he’s coming for Shep’s head. If he doesn’t, Shep still has canine blood on his paws.

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Saddle Silly

“Where the heck am I?”

Supervision by Charles M. Jones; Animation by Phil DeLara. A Merrie Melody released on November 8, 1941.

The Pony Express. A profession that was no doubt, exciting and boring; miserable and fulfilling. And probably very uncomfortable. Remember the last time you rode a horse? Now imagine that for over 24 hours. But until we get telephones invented, it must be done. Because it’s ‘take your audience to work’ day, we’re going to follow one of these riders to see what it’s really like out there in the real world.

I feel like calling our rider ‘Rider-man’. Because he does whatever a rider can and probably more, but ‘Rider+man’ makes it sound like there are two of him. He’s got stuff to deliver, but let’s not kid about who’s really doing all the work here. Good old horses. Where would humanity be without them? And who would take their spot on the Lunar calendar? My money is on either the phoenix or the giant panda.

Expecting one horse/pony to cross the entire continent is ludicrous and cruel. Time to trade off at the nearest station. The stallion chosen looks familiar. I wonder if he has family in the army/racetrack? The equines pass the parcel+rider and with fresh speed, Rider-Man rides again! Up ahead, a hitchhiker tries to bum a ride. Seeing as how there isn’t any seats available, they run past with the wind in their wake. (And like three dogs because there’s an adoption center across the street.)

With the two focused on the man they wouldn’t help, they fail to notice they are running off a ledge into the Colorado River. I’m resisting a “sea horse” pun because its fresh water. They attempt walking out, but walk off another ledge into deeper water. I don’t get why we’re holding on a shot of the bubbles. Or why they suddenly get bigger and pop into ‘splash’ sound affects. If I ask for an explanation, would my readers be so kind as to leave comments? What if I brought up my depression?

Rider-Man ends up being the one to drag his horse out of the water. You can lead him away but… it’ll make him drink? (No wonder you guys don’t want to waste your time with feedback.) They pass little Hitchy again, but this time the horse has learned to keep his eyes on the trail. He notices the upcoming cliff, and stops short. Too short. The momentum flings Rider-Man from the saddle. But don’t worry! Once he sees he’s riding nothing through practically the same, he turns back. It’s just one of those occupational hazards that comes with the job.

After passing the little man again, (He’s a running gag even though he’s standing still. Wocka wocka!) The team enters “Indian” territory. But there’s only one person living there. Moe Hican, in his salad days before striking oil, chases after them. I wouldn’t be too worried about him. He looks like a Sioux version of Pvt. Snafu. (Snaf-sioux?) There’s a warpath under construction up ahead, so Rider-man has to turn and fight. But his horse has no desire to be a meat shield. Love his smug “you can’t make me” smile. But R.M. can, and knocks him out.

Took too long. Moe is on the other side of the meat shield. Rider-Man has to flee on foot. Horses never stay down for long, and he joins his partner in fleeing into the nearby fort. Safe at last! Even better, this is also where they were supposed to be delivering to. But the only thing in the parcel is the hitchhiker. He’s thankful for the lift, but just had to ditch the mail with Moe. This bag ain’t big enough for the two of ’em!

Favorite Part: I’m always impressed that the writers can think of new disclaimer gags. This one is thanking the Pony Express riders, who had no hand in helping make the cartoon. That’s some scrumptious sarcasm.

Personal Rating: 2

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The Good Egg

“Isn’t he cute?”

Wouldn’t you know it? He’s still in a shell.

Supervision by Charles M. Jones; Animation by Keen Harris; Story by Dave Monahan; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on October 21, 1939.

I’m very lucky that Mother’s Day falls on a Sunday this year. It ties in nicely with our post.

All the hens in the hen-house have creepy grins on. Grins that say “Our eggs weren’t the only things getting laid.” It can’t just be my own dirty thoughts, as the eggs are indeed fertile. And I lied when I said ‘All the hens in the hen-house have creepy grins on.’ There’s one who’s infertile, and that’s reason enough to be miserable. Chicks are adorable, and once they’re not, you can eat them. In other words, I understand her sadness. Seeing how happy all the mothers are isn’t helping any. She’s got baby fever, but bad.

Seriously though, we should be worried. So desperate is she to have something to love, she’s starting scooping up any babies she finds in the yard and fawning and cooing over them. This is not a healthy coping mechanism, and I recommend professional help. Or suicide works too, I guess. Seems a bit extreme, but her death will be delici- humane and painless. She chooses drowning as her way out. And I recommend never killing yourself. Well, maybe sacrifice is debatable.

While running towards doom, the hen trips over an egg. A large egg! It’s like, kiwi sized, but the color is off. Maybe it’s an albino egg. She decides death can wait, and adopts it. Seriously though, we should be worried. Note how she fearfully looks over shoulder while running as fast as she can. She legitimately thinks she’s stealing somebodies baby to fill her empty existence. It’s really quite sickening. Let’s call the egg Arizona, regardless of what’s in it.

She gets over guilt faster than a shrew feels full. Eagerly anticipating the day by knitting some shorts. I thought booties were the traditional thing to make… oh wait, chickens get those on when they die. Yeah, so why not make something that will cover the part of the body that feathers won’t? Maybe she will be a great mom. So what was coming out of that out of scale egg, anyhow? It’s got scaly legs and a beak. I guess it must be a chicken. I’m super gooder at making edumacated guessez.

She sends the little fella to play with the other kids, but they laugh at his claims that he’s as chicken as they are. It’s mean and cruel, but I wouldn’t expect anything less from children. Now, if they had decent parents, this is where they would come in and tell them that making fun of others based on their appearances is wrong. Wait until their actions give you some good ammo. The feathered chicks decide a game of pirates is in order, so they shove off via box boat. While they don’t really exclude Arizona, they also don’t wait up and laugh when he or she fails to join them. (See? You could make fun of their speed. Call them a ‘tortoise’.)

Arizona mopes, but the other chicks have it worse. Seems they didn’t know cardboard makes for lousy boat material and now they have no boat. Their screams for help indicate they aren’t drowning yet, but speed will still be of the essence. Now, if I directed this cartoon, Arizona’s natural slowness would spell disaster for the chicks. And there’d be more pigs. I’m not Chuck Jones, so you will be pleased to know that Arizona is able to run down to the water, swim to their location, and bring all four of them back alive. Yay.

Now whenever the chicks sail, (because near-death isn’t as traumatic as people claim) they always bring Arizona along to play lifeguard. It’s always so uplifting to have people accept you for the things you can do, rather than the person you are. So realistic.

Favorite Part: Ummm… I guess one of the hens diapering eggs so the chicks would hatch wearing them was kinda cute. I’ve never seen that before. Wait, they’re the only chicks we see like that. Does time pass? Or does their family just have incontinence issues?

Personal Rating: 2. There’s a few cute moments that just barely make it not unwatchable. Light jokes though. If he doesn’t ease up of the Disney homages, there will be Chuck Jones in Trouble.

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Why do I Dream those Dreams?

“Go lay down!”

Supervision by Isadore Freleng; Animation by Rollin Hamilton and Robert McKimson; Music by Norman Spencer. A Merrie Melody released on June 30, 1934.

You mean the ones where I willingly choose to go to work stark nude and nobody notices? I think that’s me subconsciously admitting how invisible I feel, and how desperately I want to be noticed. And now for our featured attraction.

A disturbance of an occurrence is going down at the Van Winkle house. Rip and the dog are being thrown out by the Mrs. If you speak Chip/Dale, you can learn her reasons. Mine’s a bit rusty, but it sounds like not wiping his feet was the last straw. He’s also a lazy good-for-less-than-nothing, and his dog isn’t much better. They can go live in the forest for all she cares. And… she left her socks in the gerenuk? Well, that’s on you, lady.

Rip’s easy going. He just crosses his name off the property, takes his gun and color changing hat, and heads off to get whatever life gives him. His dog follows because dog’s are good and loyal and won’t stop being your friend even if your autistic brain made you not realize the severity of your words and now you’re not even able to apologize. And… so are the… children. … Are you on… uh, “good” terms with these children? I’m not allowed to see minors follow men with guns.

Ah. They were just seeing him off. *Relieved sigh* And it turns out his gun is only for decoration/is the only possession in his name. He’s really a fisherman; and he found a way to make that easier. He puts his bait on a mousetrap that’s tied to the pole. And I gotta know: do you think that would work? If I hadn’t taken a vow to never kill any of my animal friends, I’d go try it right now. Honest I would!

Fittingly enough for a Van Winkle, Rip falls asleep. The merry little dwarfs that didn’t get a callback from Walt are nearby. They’re just doing whatever fictional, non-human dwarfs do. Drink, dance, be merry and little, and drink. You’re not a true dwarf if you don’t have a beer gut. When they notice Rip, they all gather for a closer look/try to rob him. Unfortunately, I can’t find a good enough print of the short that clues me into the objects in his pocket that makes the little guys laugh. Are they receipts? A list of debt collectors? Porn? One of those candy wrappers that have “jokes” printed on them?

Screwing around with his gun fires it, and he wakes. They dart back home, but the damage is done: Rip is aware of their settlement. Good thing he doesn’t give a crap about learning about a secret society unknown by humankind. He’s just going to help himself to their kegs. At his scale, they’re little more than a pint. What they’re not is ‘meant for human consumption’. That drink makes dwarfs out of thin dwarfs, so it is for him.

His dog finds him, and is as loyal and good as I promised. Plus, Rip still smells like Rip, so it must be Rip. The problem is that the dog is so much more powerful in comparison now. You could drown in his tongue, and your spine would snap if he tried to leap on you. Rip escapes death by love by riding a realistically drawn grasshopper. Well, it was, until Rip got his Toon germs on it. Riding grasshoppers is nothing I’ve ever thought about, but now; can anyone loan me some dwarf ale?

The insect bucks him off into a spider’s web. And it’s not abandoned. And that’s not a spider, unless it’s back legs haven’t grown back yet. Either way, it’s hungry. But don’t worry, after the venom is injected, you won’t feel a thing. This dream was made possible by the fact that Rip’s been asleep for some time now, and spiders have built webs around him. Spider love being in close contact with human beings. More of you should be as happy to see them as I am. I’m banning you from returning until you do.

I can’t fathom the exact number of years he slept. Is that his dog? Or one of his dog’s descendants? Actually, those are them over there. Joke or not, why does Rip tell him off? For taking them away from their mother? Actually, maybe this is the mother. In which case… how dare she get knocked up? Don’t tell people that!

Favorite Part: The dog going back to old bag Winkle just to blow a raspberry. Loyal, good, friendly, cute, why would anyone need a wife? (Answer: Dog’s normally don’t last into your 80’s.)

Personal Rating: 1. Feels a bit scattered. It’s about Van Winkle. No, it’s about the dwarfs. Nah, it’s about Shrinkle Winkle! Actually, it’s about over.

Now, if you’ll excuse me/speaking of dreams, I’m going to go pretend I live in a world where “Coyote Vs Acme” will be released. *Learns what Ketchup Entertainment is going to be releasing next year* For the love of all that is holy: DON’T EVER WAKE ME UP FROM THIS DREAM!!!!!!!

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Robin Hood makes Good

“I’d like to be the good guy once in a while. I guess.”

Supervision by Charles M. Jones; Animation by Robert McKimson; Story by Dave Monahan; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on February 11, 1939.

Watching nearly 100 year old cartoons is super fun, but reading several century old books can be equally thrilling. Visit your local library today! The only two animals capable of finding enjoyment this way are humans, and squirrels. Oh, I can back those claims up! I enjoy it, and the squirrels do too. Easy! The ‘book of the month club’ book for this month, is a collection of tales about Robin Hood. Squirrels love long tails!

Three squirrel… brothers? Nothing confirms they’re brothers, but nothing denies it, either. Yeah, three squirrel brothers are engrossed in the book. And what’s more fun than reading a book? Role playing as the characters! Who wants to join me in a little “Clockwork Orange?” The youngest brother offers to play the titular Hoodlum, but his older brother challenges that by asking a simple question: “Who’s gonna be Robin Hood?”

After he gets his way, his title is taken by his elder bro. As the eldest of three, I’ve been here before. But they left out the best part: arguing! I always won those because I said so.

Hey, maybe these guys need names. From biggest to smallest: Squzzy, Sqozzy, Sqizzy. Because Sqozzy was generous to give his superior the appropriate position, he is rewarded with the “privilege” of portraying Little John. Now gosh, that still leaves the question of who will be the villain. We need a villain to justify the thieving! Someone small, and squishy, and adopted…

I can’t believe Sqizzy hasn’t caught on yet. I do love his “Meeeeee?” when he finds out. He wants no part in this, but Sqozzy tells him its easy to get beat up, robbed, and belittled. And it will be fun. With no say so in the matter, Sqizz is put into costume and sent on his way. This is the way its always done, so accept your role. You are the villain in these literary games. You were the Monster of “Frankenstein”, the windmill of “Don Quixote” and the Mr. Rochester of “Jane Eyre.”

While the most charming song about harassing capitalists is being sung, their antics are watched by a fox. A cursory skim at their book tells him all he needs to know to lure them into his clutches. He calls for help in falsetto, claiming to be Maid Marion. (I always figured she was a fox.) It’s a shame that the boys hadn’t reached that part of the book yet, so they’re hesitating. They’re also not questioning how their imagination is coming to life. They voluntell the youngest to get the goods.

Though he looks more ground squirrel to me, he has the speed of his arboreal cousins, and snatches the book without getting snatched himself. The fox only managed to get a mouthful of flowers. Since he’s GF, he leaves in a huff. The squirrels were probably sour, anyway. Speaking of, the book has just let them know that lovely ole Marion is Robin’s sweetheart. That means they gotta save her! (Aren’t you guys minors? It could explain why you’re dumb enough to fall for this.)

Hearing the kids answer his call eventually, the fox gets back into character and has them follow the siren calls into a secluded cabin, with a locked back door. You know, this cartoon was way ahead of its time. Once the two are in, the fox enters as well, locking the other door. I know he is going to eat them, but it still sounds reeeeeeally disturbing to hear him admit how much he likes little squirrels. Figurative predators have tainted the literal ones forever. A-holes.

Being so young and small, Sqizzy was too slow to make it into the house with the other two. Peeking through the door, he witnesses the fox telling his now tied-up brethren about the side dishes that will soon be their new neighbors. Shame they were pricks, otherwise Sqizz might have felt the need to lend a paw. Wait. This is his chance to prove he can be a hero! Good thing there was a French Horn just lying in the forest. (And if that’s not what it is, I don’t care. I just listen to the music; never claimed to understand it.)

As the fox prepares his meal, he hears the sound of hunting horns and howling hounds. (How does Sqizz manage to echo like that?) “They” follow the trail straight to the cabin, happily exclaiming they will have fox stew tonight. (Much more humane than just getting his tail.) God-level acting is Mel (which is actually his level when he’s not trying) as the fox showing his true colors. Sure he’s a carnivore, but that doesn’t mean he’s not afraid to die. And with both doors locked, he’s bargaining with his prey to do him a favor, while taking breaks to pound on the exit with all his might. (This short takes place in the future of Octember 1952. Which really did start on a Sunday.)

When he’s gone, the bros. easily escape their harnesses and go to thank their heroes. It’s always nice when squirrels talk to humans; never the results of witchcraft or mushroom sambas. But all they find is their little brother who’s got just one question for them: “Whoooo’s gonna be Robin Hood?” I’m gonna hazard a guess. Squzzy. No way in hell is he letting you hold anything over his head.

Favorite Part: I suppose I should grant it to Mel as the fox, but the line that’s always stuck with me is Sqizzy saying “Guess we better break down the door.” I can’t explain it better than its always made me laugh. Maybe because he sounds so deadpan?

Personal Rating: 3

Now, what’s this I hear about the Termite Terrace building getting torn down? I don’t want to live in a world where that happens! Are you really willing to lose me?

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The Lyin’ Mouse

“I’m the rip-snorton’est, Edward Ever (sic) Horton’est, Charles Laughton’est, and you ain’t heard nort’in’nest lion in the whole world!”

Supervision by Isadore Freleng. Story by Tedd Pierce; Animation by Ken Harris; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on October 16, 1937.

It’s a first for this series! A “Melody” without a musical connection! Maybe it should stay this way…

There’s a mouse caught in a mousetrap. Thanks to maybe Bernice Hansen, I can never tell ’tis a buck or a doe. Fate’s been decent to me lately, I’ll let him/her/it decide. They’ve decided female. Since our mouse can’t free herself, she has to shout for aid. Unfortunately, that just attracts attention, and a hungry cat arrives on the scene. Good thing he always keeps sandwich fixin’s in the nearest crate. As is well known, when someone’s about to die, it’s customary to make them a sandwich.

Since they’re just the framing device for the short’s meat, I’ll not bother with names. But I will give kudos to the cat for not removing the mouse from the mousetrap, lest she has a chance to escape. She tries to change his mind on dinner by agreeing to do him a good turn in return for not killing her. And I guess freeing her is part of the bargain. The cat isn’t convinced that she could ever be of use to him, as he’s never heard the famous fable that concerned a mouse getting spared by a lion, and managing to save its life in return.

The mouse tells the tale. There was a lion that was a real bass, as most lions are. He lived in an area that nature couldn’t decide if it should be savanna or forest. He just called it a jungle for simplicity’s sake. His reputation was fierce enough to frighten off all the other animals who lived in this wacky biome. Including a bird that somebody finally realized didn’t belong on their farm. I’m just going to ignore it hiding its head underground via distraction. Look at that flamingo. Judging by his pallor, he’s not getting enough shrimp. If only he knew if he belonged here or not.

The local mouse in these parts gets… I guess I need to determine its identity too. This one will be male. So, HE gets his kicks by blowing a horn that sounds just like a lion. The animals flee again, but this time, the mammals decide to run further towards what could be their doom. Is it that hard to survive in this scientifically inaccurate locale? Be glad it’s not a taiga/coral reef. The lion isn’t amused by the mouse’s mockery, but his attention is almost instantly caught by a delicious aroma in the air.

There’s a roast chicken just being wasted behind him. He tells the mouse to vamoose, as he’s not worth the effort. The mouse promises to help him someday. The lion goes to grab the roast bird. It’s sitting in the middle of a bear trap, so he’s immune. But the man who set the tap, Frank Cluck, put in a fail safe in case he found something other than bears in Africa: a mousetrap that bursts through the bird and pinches the lion’s nose. But he’s also immune from that killing him. Frank Cluck needs a new tactic.

The next trap is a lamb tied to a tree. The lion needs a name so I can stop calling him ‘the lion’ again. For fun, let’s also name the mouse he met. For a switch-up, the Mouse can be named Leo. Logically, the lion is now Scorpius. (Not that Musculus doesn’t have a nice ring to it.) He can tell this is another trap, and turns to leave, but the lamb is quite the salesman. Even though his signs are misleading; he is NOT mutton yet. Whatever, Scorpius is eventually convinced and grabs him.

Instant boxing glove to the face! Now dazed, Scorpius is at the mercy of Frank who hogties him. He takes his prize to the circus. Such a shame that Leo couldn’t hold up his end of the bargain. Scorpius, once a king over all he saw, has been reduced to mere entertainment for the masses. It’s really quite sad. Scorpius, though as awesome as the featured quote says, isn’t too tough to cry. And guess what? Leo is right outside his cage! I guess he witnessed everything after all! He gnaws a hole out for the big cat, and they flee into the night.

The original mouse ends her story here, before she has to relate the part where the two are hunted by the entire country, and ultimately shot before getting back home. Good thing things have worked in her favor, as this cat is also moved to tears. He releases her, and the title comes true if her “sucker!” is any indication. Good thing the cat can reuse the bread.

Favorite Part: The fact that the mouse laughs as she is mustard-ed for the sandwich. It’s darkly funny, and adorably messed up.

Personal Rating: 3