Category: One Shots

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

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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

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I’m a Big Shot Now

‘NAME YER PISEN’

Supervision by Isadore Freleng; Animation by Jack Carr and Riley Thompson; Music by Bernard Brown. A Merrie Melody released on April 11, 1936.

The place is the very creatively named Birdville. Not Aves Acres. Or Fowl Fields. Not even Ornithoid Oasis. It’s Birdville and the birds here are fairly human. They don’t wear pants because you never know when an egg needs to come out and can’t wait. The males just follow common courtesy. And whatever you do: don’t give any attention to the woodpecker streaker. That’s exactly what he wants. Why he can’t be more civilized is beyond me. Maybe woodpeckers are just screwy.

But life isn’t all birdbaths and seed bells here. There are the hangouts of the lowlifes. The thug thrushes, felon finches, and brute buntings. It’s that saloon over there. How low are the birds in there? They’ve stooped to stealing dance scenes from old pictures!  At least they bothered to disguise half of themselves. But that’s only distraction for the crimes against nature they commit. Look at that head plumage change color! No doubt the work of Cuttlefish Chickadee!

The worst of them all is the blue one there, Spike. He’s got all the signs of your classic hoodlum: french shirt, dandy cap, a face mask that sometimes doesn’t reach all the way around his head, and Spike for a moniker. He’s had the basic life: born a softie, vowed to be a toughie, made it. And his tail feathers change color. Or, are they just very iridescent and seem to flash when the light hits them right? He doesn’t fear anybirdy. There’s a cop patrolling just outside, occasionally losing his badge, and turns around at blink-and-miss speeds. And Spike yanks him in to rough him up, before downing five shots of hooch. Since I don’t want to be on his bad side, I’ll note his collar disappearance as the last flub.

This saloon also happens to be right across the way from the bank. Spike looks at it like he had no clue it was even there. This the first time he’s visited during daylight hours? He gets his boys together to clean the place out. He gets to wait outside like bosses do. They get away, with the birds in blue (who aren’t bluebirds or bluejays) on their tail feathers. Are they driving on a sidewalk? Are there humans in this world? Or is this the same continuity “Peace on Earth” takes place in once the birds got sick of the squirrel’s preachy H.S.? (Human sh*t.)

We don’t see how, but the crooks get away. A moment of silence for the cops who no doubt got birdshot. They’re front page headliners now! But forget that! W.B. is expanding? Tubby Millar bought a home? And Freleng won an award? This paper predicts the future! There’s not a more rational explanation! Reward is placed at 500 worms. Okay, so, do they eat their currency? If they don’t, doesn’t it rot fast? And I notice you aren’t mentioning exactly what worms they are. You’re giving out soil nematodes, aren’t you?

The robbers are found because they were stupid enough to leave their car outside their birdhouse. Which is making me question the scale of this cartoon even more. The cop who finds the place looks about tanager size, but his backup are clearly on par with Elmer. What is canon! And why didn’t you leave your car in the woods and fly the loot here? You can fly, can’t you? That woodpecker could fly. And where is the rest of Spike’s spooks? Did he leave them for dead in the car chase? He’s a big cock now.

Gunfire is exchanged, but the drop is gotten on Spike when they shoot out the floor from under him. No, he can’t fly, he drops right into their clutches. Then how did he get up there? Let me guess, someone said your name backwards minus the ‘s’ and you lost your flight. (If you get that, you know I have a great sense of humor.) Superior numbers take him down, and he ends up being placed in his proper habitat, because he’s a jailbird. He’s already reforming. Just wait until his release.

Favorite Part: When the cops first fire at Spike in his liar, he proves how much of a big shot he is. He calmly fires back, with an almost bored look on his face. But when they shoot his flipping coin, now- now it’s serious!

Personal Rating: 3.

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Goldilocks and the Jivin’ Bears

“Jitterbugs!”

Directed by I. Freleng; Story by Tedd Pierce; Animation by Ken Champin; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Merrie Melody released on September 2, 1944.

Wasn’t “Coal Black” great? The answer is yes with an asterisk and a lengthy footnote. Wouldn’t it be great to do another parody of a Disney picture as an all black jazz number? Same answer as above. Too bad by this time in history Walt only had the one fairy tale feature film to his name, and those “Silly Symphonies” just wouldn’t do. (Although now there is a sickly curious part of me who wants to see what “The 3 Black Pigs” would have been like.) Guess we’ll just have to parody one of our shorts. Tex is no longer here. No permission needed to doctor “The Bears Tail.”

Like “C.B.” we have a narrator who only appears at the beginning, but his voice at least stays all the way through. Good thing. This story is so complex that I need his help. There are indeed three bears, and *sigh* the narrator specifically states that they are of the black species. Obvious joke is still hurtful. We’ll just call them what the picture does: Big Size, Middle Size, and Wee Small. Big has that Stepin Fetchit look, Middle is all Fats Waller, and Wee… I don’t know. I can tell he’s voiced by Mel, at least. The other two both sound like Fats because… I don’t know.

Now, because these are black bears, they are uneducated, have unflatteringly large lips, and are quite the talented musicians. At least that one is a positive stereotype? They got a good jam going, but they’re playing so hard that soon all their instruments get too hot. (Okay. That’s actually pretty clever.) Only thing to do now is take a walk and let them cool. While they do that, let’s check on their neighbors. They live just across the way from Grandma’s house, and the story there is also underway: there’s a wolf in the old lady’s bed waiting on the arrival of Red Riding Hood.

Aw, what the heck. Let’s explain the lack of Red with a callback to another short. Red is now the one doing her part for the war effort, as the telegram boy explains. Here’s where the Stepin voice went. I did get a chuckle at him obliging when the wolf says “Well kill me dead!” at hearing the news. The wolf managed to dodge the shot, and he soon sees Goldilocks entering the other house. Goldilocks in name only, or she’d probably look like this:

Guess it was really a jinx.

And just like So White, she doesn’t look that bad. At least if you can accept the opinion of a white guy. I can’t legally say she’s attractive though. Isn’t Goldilocks traditionally a minor? She may have been aged up, but I’ll bet she’s in her teens. Good thing the wolf has nothing sexual about his predatory ways. Since there’s no porridge in this tale, I guess Goldi just broke in to use the facilities and then, sure, why not take a nap? There’s always the possibility that this really is a BNB.

The majority of beds are either too hard, or too soft. The latter of which I never thought would suck sleeping in. The last one is just right, except for the wolf. Chase ensues, and it’s at that time that the bears return. The struggling two can be mistaken for dancers, and since the bears are uneducated, that’s what they see them as. They start the music, and the wolf plays along. Only problem is, Goldi isn’t afraid of him now and forces him to be her dance partner. And can that girl dance! It’s exhausting for an animal that was meant to walk on all four legs. He tries to leave, but can’t escape.

I lied. Once he boards up the doors and windows, he can retreat back to the safety of Grandma’s. Red finally does show up and… wow. I really thought the trend of making the black ladies in these cartoons look good would continue. No such luck. First of all, she has really long legs paired with a really short dress that is completely hidden by her hood in the back. Makes her look almost nude. And her face is reminiscent of Sunflower the centaurette. The only time comparing somebody to “Fantasia” isn’t the highest form of compliment.

The wolf is still too worn out to get after Red, and his problems increase when the bears find him again. Since Grandma has all the instruments they play on hand, the party can last as long as the bears can. And this isn’t one of those stories where the wolf ate Grandma. She comes out of the cupboard to force the wolf to dance some more. A perfect revenge.

Favorite Part: Big Size recommending the walk. The other two find the idea stupid, and refuse to take part. He’s got to show them the book takes his side to get them to agree.

Personal Rating: 2. And that’s a very low 2. Music is great, there’s a couple of decent jokes that don’t rely on the characters being black, and Goldi really does look good. But I don’t think any of those points are strong enough to cancel out the negative aspects. But as my scoring system states: if there’s a smidge of good that I think keeps it from being totally unviewable, it gets the 2. Still, it’s a good thing this was the last of the Censored 11 to get made. That’s 11 times too many to make cartoons we have to be ashamed of to this day.

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Plenty of Money and You

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Personal Rating: 2