Corn on the Cop

“Bye-bye, birdie.”

Rock it, squad.

Directed by Irv Spector; Story by Friz Freleng; Animation by Manny Perez, Warren Batchelder, and Bob Matz; Layouts by Dick Ung; Backgrounds by Tom O’Loughlin; Film Editor: Lee Gunther; Voice Characterization by Mel Blanc and Joan Gerber; Musical Direction by Bill Lava. A Merrie Melody released on July 24, 1965.

Halloween in July! Summerween, I think it’s called. I prefer Easter myself, but we need the ‘ween for story purposes.

Granny (not voiced by June this July, and you’ll notice.) is purchasing goodies for the holiday. Let’s rate them! Apples: tasty, but always a ripoff on Halloween. I’ll let you have this one only until the 90’s. Bubblegum: tastes good, looks disgusting, and I really hate putting anything in my mouth that I’m not going to actually eat. Corn Candy: I’m pretty sure you’re legally allowed to call it ‘Candy Corn’ but it sucks regardless. Lollipops: entirely dependent on the flavor, but I don’t like having a stick afterwards.

I’m skipping her house. It’s not the lousy treats, it’s her attitude. She seems to really hate this holiday. Kids get an excuse to scare her. So why even buy the sweets? Part of your religion, isn’t it. Now for that story purpose: being Halloween, a crook disguises himself as an elderly woman. Because people will think he’s really a woman. Nobody is going to think it’s a disguise? Tonight? If anything, shouldn’t this mean you can wear a traditional burglar outfit?

Turns out, the grocery clerk who helped Granny is dumb enough to not think for a few seconds. Fine, I guess I wouldn’t think rationally if there was a gun in my face either. He is at least knowledgeable enough to inform the police once he’s complied with the demands. But, this whole time he thinks it was actually Granny. Why bother with Halloween at all then? I’ll get to it when the recap needs me to.

Police H.Q. cuts into the fade-out of the cashier to alert the closest pig of the robbery. The closest pig has a duck too! Ah, Porky. I can’t completely hate any cartoon that you’re a part of. (That one dosen’t count.) The two are filled in on the details: elderly lady, blue dress, bonnet, (is it really?), and $798.44 in stolen currency. Sergeant O’Duck tells his partner to get going to the last location she was seen, despite Porky trying to tell him something. Something important. Something like “That’s w-where we we-we’re p-par- stationed!”

They find the actual Granny. Shame no one was able to notice that mask the thief was wearing. Might be a good distinguishing feature. They demand the bag and she refuses. No matter how good their cop costumes are. Now you know why we needed a specific holiday. Then she smacks them with her shopping bag. Ever been smacked by a bag of bags of corn candy? Makes you bruise like the apples Granny just ruined.

She runs off in fear with the two in hot pursuit. She passes by the real burglar, and since their wearing the same get-up, the Po-Po-Porky team mistake the actual crook for the false one. The sergeant wants all the credit, so pushes the brains of their outfit aside. Duck shot! Granny makes it home to the crummy apartment complex she lives in. Guess Sylvester and Tweety really were the ones making all the money. Crooky has also fled here, ducking into an empty apartment up for rent. Wouldn’t that be the first one real cops would search?

Good thing that’s no concern  of ours. O’Duck and newly nicknamed Dr. Coolpork knock on the fake crook’s door. Despite what just happened, she’s still willing to give them a treat. Religious reasons, I knew it. The sergeant’s plan is to have Coolpork lower him down to her window via a rope. Hey! Don’t start to fade-out when the pig is still talking! I’ll have you know I’ve thrown rocks at people for less than this! And more! I got a lot of rocks. The fake granny cuts the rope. O’Ducks aren’t known for their flying skills, so down he goes.

The next scheme is to build a hardly structural bridge out of planks. When Coolpork goes for more wood, he notices how badly the fist one was nailed down. He rips the nails out. Come on, man! You’re smarter than that! That’s something Ryder would do! (May have gone too far with that one.) Why not use a ladder? Calling for back-up won’t work because the rest of the beat got the day off for religious reasons. O’Duck carries while Coolpork directs. When the real Granny closes her window, the fake granny opens his. And vice-versa. Time for Crooky to escape.

He’s spent the whole night and some of yesterday digging a tunnel into the sewers. He exits via the manhole, leaving the coppers to fall in. I like focusing on Porky. Heh-heh, I mean the camera doing that. There’s more of a laugh when you don’t see the bottom guy about to fall in the hole. Granny’s had her fill. Not at all surprised to see Crooky, (Were you aware he was there? Shouldn’t you have figured the cops were real, then?) she drags him off for corporal punishment. She’s got a real nasty spanking hand.

As Crooky is punished, another cop shows up. Granny knows this one, so doesn’t think he’s yet ANOTHER delinquent hooligan out to harass her and get rewarded for it. He doesn’t even bother to correct her; just says he’s been looking for the guy and will take him off her hands. And addresses her as Mrs. Webster. Wow! We had to wait three years alone for her first name, and another 12 for the sur. I notice a good friend of mine only needed one year before being comfortable enough to confine.

Granny Webster says she’ll be taking the other two to their parents herself. So she drags Coolpork by the ear and O’Duck by the not-an-ear, and heads off. Too bad the picture ends before we see her getting arrested for assaulting officers. Yeah, thanks for speaking up, Flauerty. Your nickname can be douchemeat.

Favorite Part: When Granny runs by him; Crooky: “How do you like that? You come up wit’ somethin’ new, and right away you got imitators.” Funny due to how true it is. Sad for the same reason

Personal Rating: 2. I’m probably being too kind. Call it holiday spirit, but it was great to see Porky and Granny (Especially Porky) one last time. Mistaken identity naturally lends itself to comedy, too. Better than another Daffy/Speedy picture, anyway.

Little Orphan Airedale

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Robinson Crusoe Jr.

“Waiter, waiter, percolator!”

Supervision by Norman McCabe; (His first time!) Animation by Veve Risto; Story by Melvin Millar; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on October 25, 1941.

Porky is going sailing! Maybe as part of the U.S. Navy, maybe as a freighter. Or I guess it could be for fun. What isn’t hard to guess is Porky’s attitude. He expects smooth sailing. And you know I’d be joining him if I was alive in the 40’s. Strangely enough, all the rats on the ship flee before it can sail. Now, rats are dang smart. But pigs are dang smarter. They’re d*mn smart! Porky believes the rats to be clueless cowards who wouldn’t know a ship sinking from a sub sandwich. (Porky? Did your arm just phase through the side of the ship?)

Nine weeks in and we’re still floating! And why shouldn’t we? This ship comes with a guarantee to be unsinkable. Signed by Thomas Andrews himself! I don’t care if the signature says “John Hancock”. Haven’t you heard of incredibly unoriginal pen names? D*mn smart as he is, Porky can’t help but wonder how the vessel would fair in a hurricane. Well, since you want to know so bad… Porky finds himself washed ashore on an island; the sole survivor of the storm. It’s just like that one story: “The Swiss Family Robinson!”

Luckily, Porky was expected. A little guy named Friday is here to greet and invite him to live together. (No, I’m not Friday.) The book chapter transitions I haven’t mentioned have jumped from VI back to III. Because that’s how numbers worked back then. Friday is pretty much a black stereotype. Rochester voice, unfunnily large lips; I do like his hat and spats. Very dapper. But in the spirit of adaptation, I’d just like to remind you that Friday wasn’t black in the original manuscript. If Mickey hadn’t done something similar six years earlier, I’d be more depressed.

He’s also got quite the accommodations. Complete with Bedrock style appliances. Turtle washboard; elephant spigots. How does one get just cold water to come out of a mammal? Is it a zombie? They sing too! That song will be stuck in your head all day if you let it. I did. Friday is a man of schedules. Today is Monday is washday is Friday’s. Porky might as well look about his new home and encounter some gags as he does. Not the funniest ones, but not the absolute worse. Two of whom I must discuss a bit further.

One: Porky finding a parrot and asking why it doesn’t respond to him. It’s waiting for the $64.00 question, but it was still presumptuous to assume being a parrot automatically means it can mimic. I’m an adult, and yet, people don’t just assume I drink. This picture already had an unfair stereotype. It didn’t need two! Second: animals gathered at a watering hole. Water cooler, I mean. They flee when they see Porky watching them, leaving a mess of papers. A feline of some sort (couldn’t be a tiger) returns to tidy up. The trash can reminds one to keep the desert island clean. But does this really qualify as one? Looks lush to me.

Porky comes across human footprints leading into a cave. So the island is more inhabited than he thought. Why isn’t Friday with these guys anyhow? He a misanthrope? Very noble. Porky enters to… establish trade? Show them whose boss around here? Eat them? Probably eat them. Pigs can eat humans very efficiently. It’s how I want my body disposed. Speaking of eating, the natives chase Porky. It isn’t fair to call them cannibals, seeing as they’re chasing PORKy. I’m not in favor of this, but I’m sick of people thinking cannibalism means eating something only similar to you. (We eat other mammals. So why do people freak out when cartoon fish try to eat each other?)

Porky flees back to camp. (I like him being faster than his footprints. That’s a decent gag.) Friday is equally scared, and is more than eager to join Porky once he carves a motor boat. Not willing to pass up a food source, the natives throw their spears. Who would’ve thought they could do that? Porky, still d*mn smart, stops things by putting up a sign on the boat saying their American. Listen, eating someone to survive is one thing. The crap the Nazis were pulling? They may be wild, but these guys aren’t savages!

Favorite Part: They bothered to only put four toes on the native footprints. They didn’t need to do that, as most people probably wouldn’t check to see to see if they were accurate, but they didn’t insult our intelligence. Almost as if they had a vision of a smart@$$ blogger discussing their work over 80 years later.

Personal Rating: 2. Weak gags and bad stereotypes. Two reasons for a two.

Porky’s Picnic

“Well…” “Here…” “We are!”

Porky’s day out.

Supervision by Robert Clampett; Animation by Robert Cannon and Vive Risto; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on July 15, 1939.

Porky is off to see his girlfriend. I’ve heard that it’s something you do when you are part of a couple. I really don’t know what to make of the faces he’s making, though. What exactly were you two planning to to today? Does it require privacy? I could talk about Pvt. Snafu if need be. Haven’t done that in a while.

Aww, what the heck. I’ll turn off my disgusting adult brain for the day. At least in terms of sexual innuendos. Porky and Petunia are just a couple of cherubs. Nothing more saucy planned than that titular picnic. (Porky nervously asking if Petunia wants to go to the pic for a parknic is extra adorable.) Always prepared for any activity her sweet chubboo wants to do, Petunia needs less than a second to get a basket and hat. And Pinkie can look after the house!

Yessir, he’s back. I don’t know who he’s related to this time, but Petunia really was going to leave him behind. Maybe she knows how most viewers feel about him? Even I have to admit he’s not as cute today. Chubby piggy bellies are always preferable to those odd nightgown things babies were always shown wearing in cartoons. (The bonnets were never cute.) The adults don’t make too much headway before the kid catches up on his paddle-bike. (I’ll be honest, I don’t know what that kind of toy would be called.)

Their plan for alone time foiled, they bring the piglet along. Porky even promising him a story should the kid behave. It’s that classic one about three bears and a peroxide blonde, as Porky calls her. Which is way less wimpy and childish. Porky tells tales that would make the Grimm’s proud! Pinkie doesn’t give a dang. He pulls at the spike keeping the sidecar he and Petunia are in attached to Porky’s bike. Porky is unaware his guests are traveling down a different road, and a lady never screams for help, so Petunia decides to just let fate take its course.

This road goes parallel to some train tracks, so while Pinkie giggles with glee, Petunia prays that their car will run out of steam before they reach a crossing. No such luck. Good thing in these modern times, the blocking parts are designed to keep the train from crossing the cars path. Not like there on a timetable or anything. And the two make it safely back to Porky just as his tale finishes. (It was really good too! I liked the part where the bears explained how they stole their house from a human couple.) Petunia decides to keep everything a secret, because she doesn’t want Porky to know she is too dainty to save her own life. Makes her less attractive. (And yes, I saw that sign stating Looney Tunes are playing at the community hall. Best town ever!)

The trio arrive at the park. Porky knows what he’s going to do first! What anyone spending time with their soulmate and a young kid would do: nap. I’m learning some great tips on how to be in a relationship! Pinkie decides to amuse himself by participating in squirrel decapitation. Why no, that wasn’t a poor attempt by me to be funny by suggesting barbaric murder attempts are something the kid would naturally do. He grabs some scissors, and tries to separate head from neck. He doesn’t succeed though. Not like the Hayes’ code would have a problem. It’s an important skill kids need to know.

Petunia punishes the brat by telling him to nap as well. But Pinkie would rather partake in his favorite pastime: treating Porky as his personal piñata. My pal laughs it off, but makes it well known that Pinkie’s days are numbered. Maybe even less than that, seeing as how the kid isn’t making another appearance after this. What better way to spend your last day on Earth, than by visiting a zoo? Preferably one where the animals aren’t in cramped cages. So I guess Pinkie will die unhappy unless he can make it to the mid aughts.

Petunia alerts Porky to the problem. She’s just a woman, so she can’t do anything useful other than popping the kids out. May our country join a war and give the girls a chance to prove themselves to prove me wrong. Porky is up to any challenge, and finds the kid napping amidst some cougar cubs. The zookeepers are all on strike until the animals get actual habitats, so Porky enters himself. Mother cougar isn’t pleased to see Porky so near her offspring, and stealing their dinner. Chase time.

She’s a fair feline. When Petunia is about to faint, she patiently waits until Porky has attended to his lady. But this noble gesture just reminds the cat that her mate never did anything of the sort, and resumes the chase enviously angry. But Porky is smart! He decides to just exit the cage, and the murderous mama crashes into the bars. Porky crashes into some mud, but Petunia is more than just a lady, she’s a pig, and she gives the hero the kiss he deserves. Don’t let the mud getting on her and suggesting black face distract you from how cute they are together. It’s hard to believe she started as such a bit*h.

Pinkie tries to get his squirrel head trophy again, but the rodent Conker’s his @$$ with a plank of his own. I’m sure Pinkie’s tears are somebody’s favorite part! But as for me…

Favorite Part: Porky catching Pinkie with the plank and asking what he was going to do. Well, it’s just common courtesy to explain and demonstrate, isn’t it?

Personal Rating: 3. I suppose I’m being too nice, but nobody ever tries to debate me over my scoring, so I must be correct. It’s little touches that I think make it work. (Porky commenting on his “stutter”, combing his “hair”…) And I am a sucker for my favorite couples in fiction, just like all nerds. At least this one is canon!

Daffy Doodles

“I hate that d-d-duck.”

Directed by Robert McKimson; Story by Warren Foster; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on April 16, 1946.

The first for Robert! And you know what? He deserves it. He’d been there since the beginning and would stick to the end. With that said, I do have to admit he’s my least favorite of the “big” directors. He just didn’t have many pictures that really wowed me the way the others’ did.

There’s a demon on the loose in the city. Their words, not mine. The narrator isn’t even sure what they look like. It could be me, but it isn’t. It could be you, but you’re better than that. What little information we do have is what the fiend is up to: putting mustaches on all the ads. I’d say that’s minor at best, and pretty childish. But it is graffiti. Funny graffiti that would probably make the populace notice your sign more, but I’m not the law.

The title was on to something! Daffy is indeed the one doing this. We’ve all got our purposes in life. Mine is to make people glad they’re not me, yours is to tell me I’m more than that, and Daffy’s is to paint. It’s niche, but it’s what he’s good at. You wouldn’t ask Dali to paint a still life of ham and swiss and not expect him to make each hole on the cheese a mouth and the meat covered in snails that have crab shells, would you?

The city’s finest better be called in to deal with this. And that means a guy who is a pig literally and figuratively. Porky fits. (And I’m sorry if you find me calling a cop a pig rude. You must not know how I feel about pigs.) His plan is to hold a picture frame around his face, and not move. No blinking, breathing, swallowing or twitching. At least he’s mastered not sweating. Daffy isn’t so easily fooled, being a master of his profession and all. He just leaves a box in front of Porky with the typical “Do not open until Xmas”. But that’s this week, and Porky won’t be around then, so it’s logical to look now.

Daffy was in the box and gives Porky a ‘stache. And it looks amazing! Rugged, manly, sexy, tough… these are all fine words, but I chose ‘amazing’. Porky gives chase, but Daffy is able to lose him by playing porter and getting Porky into a subway car. Now that he’s gotten a taste for painting flesh, Daffy holds out his brush to give every passenger a lip tickler. Daring choice giving an infant the Hitler look. Poor Chaplin. You will never be anybody’s first guess unless they’re trying to misdirect others.

The downside to Daffy’s hobby is that he’s easy to track. Just follow the latest line of mustaches. They’re on the pictures of the stars at the theater. (The one on Bugs is a nice touch. And a hint of their relationship in the future.) Daffy then sees the largest billboard ever. Don’t point me to a bigger one and ruin my amazement. This will be great. Bigger is better! And better art is a masterpiece! Daffy sets to work, but Porky spots him up there and gets in position. As Daffy swings about painting, Porky pastes him on the head with his club. That’s more success than Wile E. ever had!

Daffy threatens to jump off if Porky comes nearer. Porky comes nearer and Daffy jumps. When Porky peeks over, Daffy, on the ledge just below, paints him again. It really suits you, man! Either grow a real one or pay the artist for his service already! The chase resumes along the building. Nice camera work! Daffy is even willing grab a hold of his pursuer when he loses his balance. Of course, that’s so he can turn the tables and chase Porky on a motorcycle. It’s great exercise!

The chase leads back on to the roof and the two fall through a skylight. In the rubble, Porky lends new meaning to the term “handlebar mustache”. Daffy makes his escape via the mail tube, and Porky goes looking for him at the corresponding mailbox. Being Daffy, he comes back to berate the officer for looking through the mail and slaps some cuffs on him. Now right where Porky wants him, he gets another bonk on the head and is taken to court.

Daffy pleads to the judge. He’s made some mistakes in his life, but isn’t the guilt punishment enough? He’s willing to make a fresh start if the law will just give him the chance. It’s all up to the jury. Said jury is a hive mind of Jerry Colonas. Maybe they’re convinced, maybe they’re just trying to indoctrinate more vessels to feed his majesty, the Jerry-rig. Whatever the reason, Daffy is grateful and vows to never paint another mustache. He’s got to keep up with the times, and fashion says beards are in!

Wait a minute! It didn’t say anything about fourth walls! HHEEAALLPP!

Favorite Part: Daffy pleading with the judge and remarking that he too might be a maniac someday. If I’m ever on trial, I’m going to try that.

Personal Rating: 3. Welcome aboard, the U.S.S. McKimson! We’ll be having plenty of chicken and visits to Australia!

Calling Dr. Porky

“This’ll fix you up.”

Porky knows the bear facts.

Supervision by I. Freleng; Animation by Herman Cohen; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on September 21, 1940.

In the past, Porky had terrible luck with hospitals. Whether he need medical attention or not, he’d wind up with some looney trying to saw open his stomach without anesthesia. His choices were either never see a doctor again, or get his own M.D. and show them how it’s done. I think you know what he went with.

New Rightus hospital is a great place! And I’m not just saying that because I break my leg constantly to stay in the same building my beloved buddy works. I’m saying it because they capitalize on space by sticking patients in file cabinets. If all you’re going to do here is lay around, you don’t get to complain about lodgings. Shut up and heal.

Our latest patient looks like a waste of canine space, but he’s got a real condition: a disappearing collar! And a hangover. This doesn’t really sound like our jurisdiction, but Dr. Porky never turns anyone anyway when they are in need. And he can fit many patients in a single day because he cures people the same way Mario does: pills. I don’t know what the ‘Pink pills’ do, but boy are they tasty! He’ll see the drunkard, now named Dru, and the nurse sends him to the proper room.

He is not alone. As one should expect in cartoons, being pixilatedly plastered presents a person with a petite, pink, proboscidean, poltergeist posse. And yeah, they’re unnerving me. Maybe its because they’re ghostly transparent, or because they’re stalking somebody. Dru isn’t happy to have them around, but he can’t escape them, so he might as well let them tag along. Of course, once he gets the doctor’s attention, he devolves into a terrified, blubbering mess.

Porky has seen this all before, so he knows exactly how to remedy the situation. All Dru has to do is sit down and wait. Then, guess who shows up. Right. It’s Pinky, Pinkey and Pinkquay. They’re sporting medical hats now because they’ve outgrown their cute innocent baby phase. Now, they’ve come to torment. As if doctors aren’t already scary enough. They belay instructions for Dru to follow, and he does because, what other choice does he have? Angering them could cause them to evolve into their final form. You don’t want to see that.

Their poking, prodding, pestering and pulverizing has led them to the only viable solution to save Dru’s life: operation. Not the annoying board game, the real kind with saws and organs. It’s in their best interest too, because they only exist as long as Dru is alive. (There’s an idea for a short film: a drunken hallucination trying to make the short time they’re alive awesome.) Once he’s in the operating chair, they can get down to brass tacks.

First: question time. Treating him like he’s on trial, they ask everything; not caring if they get any answer. We don’t find out where Dru lives, or his marital status or even his name. I was really looking forward to finding out who he voted for too. You know, I think the little gremlins are messing him for their own amusement. Any sympathies fall on deaf ears and are returned with mockery and laughter. They sound like rumors mixed with Tress Macneille. Combined with their diabolically, evil faces… yeah, they’re unnerving me. I’d be screaming for Porky along with Dru, too.

Lucky timing. The cure is ready! And if you had any doubts, they should dissipate along with those fuchsia freaks. Dru is back to how he was meant to be: sober, confident, well groomed. (Are you allowed to call someone that anymore?) He leaves the hospital ready to face the world. And the world spits in his eye. There’s a circus parade outside, and guess who is at the end of the parade of elephants. They had to go somewhere! Dru runs back to the comforts of New Rightus, vowing to never again step foot outside into the cruel, cold, uncaring world.

He hops in bed, only for those pinker stinkers to throw him out. They’re just not his problem anymore.

Favorite Part: You gotta love how even Dru’s stupor stooges wince at his brew breath.

Personal Rating: 2. I applaud for making those drunken terrors look more non-corporeal, but being in grayscale makes them blend into the backgrounds more often than not. It almost makes he want to recommend the ugly recoloring version, and I feel like I should cut out my tongue and eat it for saying so. Porky barely features as well.

Porky the Giant Killer

“Everything s-seems to happen to me.”

If father wants another, there’s a place I know…

Supervision by Ben Hardaway and Cal Dalton; Story by Melvin Millar; Animation by Gil Turner; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on November 18, 1940.

It seems like a parade is passing through town, but Porky is ever the inquisitive type, so he won’t leave that possibility to chance. He joins the march to ask where they’re going and learns that this is a giant killing party. They’d normally send a tailor, but Porky’s name is in the title. He’s never killed a giant before, but he aims to ruin that perfect record. He’s coming along too, and I admit to feeling safer now. I’ll get a good night’s sleep knowing Porky is always looking out for me. He’s like God, but without all that “mysterious ways” bull.

But seriously, why do we want to kill the giant? Is he a bully? Or has he crushed somebody? Intentionally or not, that’s rather serious. Could it be that his mass is throwing the planet off its orbit and we’re doomed regardless but we’ll die happy knowing we made him bleed internally? No, his crime is even more despicable. He’s castle crashing. It’s never stated, but I’m kind of a smarty. The castle is not built with his scale in mind. This is no mistake on the background artists part; it was purposefully done. The giant has to sleep on various pieces of furniture. You don’t do that by choice.

Don’t be too mean, though. He may be a bad guy because our mob says so, but somebody loved him once. He’s a single parent, and a loving one too. Now me, I’m the type of oddity who thinks scorplings are adorable. With that said, his baby is ugly. But I’m not saying it to the kid’s face, so the figurative s.o.b. is nicer than the literal one. And come on now, any real parent doesn’t need the approval of guys they don’t know or like even like. If the parent thinks they have a cute kid, let them believe it.

The baby has just been put down for a nap and father tries to follow suit, but mobs aren’t designed for silence. Papa can tell there’s someone on the premises. He doesn’t sound too angry. Just a little annoyed that people are trespassing on property he called dibs on. Reminding us that mobs are cowards and wimps, everyone flees at his voice. Porky is stuck behind because they locked the door. Actually, how did the giant get in here? Crawling? You know, I think waiting for him to starve is a pretty sweet solution. Less effort is always awesome. That’s what the world’s been teaching most days.

Trapped with a monster in an enclosed space. Porky is like Theseus, but better. Pigs are always better. Even when a layering mix-up happens and Porky’s right leg appears to be superimposed on a pillar? Even then. Looking for a hiding place, Porky ends up in the baby’s cradle. Curious little creature, ain’t he? Instead of crying over being disturbed, he tries to grab Porky who switched to hiding underneath the cradle. Then he bites the kid’s hand. Gross, but awesome. Show him who’s boss!

It may have hurt, but sucking on the finger cures all. And exposes the baby to any diseases Porky might have been carrying. But that’s a long-term solution to this problem, so Porky has to babysit in the meanwhile. He plays games, gives bottles, and reminds the child that if he wasn’t an infant, Porky wouldn’t be showing mercy. Biting doesn’t count. All kids should get bitten by something before they turn five. Helps them realize that the world doesn’t care, life hurts, and I promised I wouldn’t talk like this again, didn’t I?

Now, do any longtime readers know what the worst aspect of children is? Do any longtime readers exist? Answers: 1. They are loud and not in a pleasant way. 2. If there are, they’re very shy. The kid will not shut up. Porky is able to calm him down by playing the baby’s piano and singing him the English alphabet. It’s a pretty catchy song disguised as a lesson. Why hasn’t anybody invented one for the numerical digits? Answer: 1. Because nobody really likes math. Anyone who says they do, are really just enjoying the fact they were able to conquer it.

As any good parent would, papa was attracted by his son’s cries. He’s pleased to see Porky entertaining his child and tries to get him to come talk. He doesn’t actually use words, and Porky is still afraid of him, so a chase through the castle begins. Porky ducks out a window, but the giant’s arms pull the same trick, leaving him stuck between the two. They make a grab, but Porky slips through the grasp and lands in the moat below. Too bad the panic is making him forget he’s a swim champion. Shore is just right there!

The giant appears and drinks the moat. With Porky high and dry – except he’s not really either, – the giant captures him. His plan? For Porky to sing him and his son to sleep. The downside is that he isn’t allowed to leave. Should’ve just talked when you had the chance, pal. You might have gotten paid. See you at visiting hours.

Favorite Part: Porky throwing a ball in the child’s face. I’m allowed to laugh because it happens after Porky tells the baby he won’t hurt him, and I’m pretty sure he was just trying to instigate a game of catch. That’s our loophole, your honor.

Personal Rating: 3. Some might argue it should be a two, but they don’t count.

Porky’s Cafe

“I’m eh s-sorry, we have no d-demitasse, sir.”

Supervision by Charles M. Jones; Animation by Rudolph Larriva; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on February 21, 1942. (Chuck’s final black ‘n white.)

Porky’s cafe? I’d eat there! You would too since I’d march you in at knife-point if you refused. (I don’t have a gun.) Seriously though, folks, this place is the best. The meals they serve are made from real ingredients that do what real ingredients do if you don’t eat them: rot. I’m sure the prices are reasonable, and the owner himself plays waiter so he can see his patron’s happy smiles. And he doesn’t even have Daffy on hand to potentially screw things up. No, the chef is played by Conrad of all characters.

Conrad makes such sumptuous pancakes. Fast, too. The secret is to work to a beat. Conrad would kick donkey at Rhythm Heaven. The downside to his quick style is that the ‘cakes don’t always land back on the griddle. They’re on his hat. He figures this, but in trying to grab them, only manages to get the hat. Guess he’ll have to make more. Fast, too, as they’ve got a customer. I’ve seen some reasonable facsimile of this guy before. He shouts for attention, but the animation doesn’t suggest that. Genuine funny, or humorous mistake?

He orders up some alphabet soup. I’ve never had that, but as long as it contains zero bananas, I’ll try it. Porky has the broth, but the alphabet will be provided right at the table. Just stick a pancake into a typewriter and hammer out some letters. Warning: consonant eating may result in vowel movements. It’s an odd cut to the patron though; looks like a scene was missing. As soon as he can blow the steam away, he can get to guzzling. Yet, the steam seems hesitant to leave. Almost as if it will die when separated from the bowl.

Conrad’s adding the sugar to his pancake batter, unaware that there’s an ant inside. It’s fun to believe this is the same ant Porky met in Africa, but wrong. And if I’m wrong once, why would you ever trust me to be right anymore? The insect tries her best to not get scooped, but fails and into the batter she goes. The patron now orders a sandwich with every available filling. Since he doesn’t like savoring the exquisite tastes that ballroom dance on your tongue here, he squishes it down, plate and all, and dines à la snakes. It springs back in shape in the stomach. See? Chewing is your friend!

And onto the griddle the ant goes. She hops about in pain while Conrad stares horrified at this unnatural creation. Leg of lamb? Fine dining. Turkey leg? Best part of Thanksgiving. Bacon and legs? Bad pun. Pancake legs? Ew. He grabs for it, and his palm kisses the griddle. Ow. And now the bottomless pit wants t-bone steak, a poached egg, and coffee. Not wanting to make more difficulties for his hardworking staff, Porky scoots off to prepare this meal himself.

Wanna know a secret? Porky doesn’t serve actual t-bones. They are delicious, but the bones of those always end up having scraps of meat stuck to them that you can’t get off without gnawing and being labeled as some type of ravenous shrewman. And if you aren’t eating every bite of the animal that died for your digestion, you’re disrespecting. Porky has a solution! Getting out a ‘T’ stencil, he cuts a delectable slice of rib-eye. (Better than getting a P-stake, right?) ‘T’ is for “Too bad the grill is too hot.” The cow muscle is charred into a teeny, charred, ‘t’. No charge.

He uses machinery to get the egg cooked. A Rube Goldberg style of contraption that sounds like a suffocating babirusa. (I love making you look up new animals.) The coffee is simple: just pour it out of the pot. It’s fresh, full-bodied, and has been percolating since they opened this morning. As the customer find out firsthand, this will make all your bodily fluids bubble along. Now, where the Tartarus are my pancakes? I can’t just have plain honey for breakfast. I’m not Winnie the Pooh. (But I often wish I was.)

Conrad is still trying to contain the horror he unleashed upon the culinary world. Ants already don’t have the best eyesight to begin with, so I don’t struggle to believe she can still manage to avoid capture while in the belly of the yeast. (I know pancakes don’t normally use that, but the pun couldn’t be ignored.) He swings his spatula wildly, and the ant chooses to escape. Conrad notices and chases after. The ant’s legs have gotten longer and stronger hauling the dough around, so she has quite the advantage.

The patron is still eating, and Porky brings out the dessert: a breath-taking, literally heart-stopping, four layer wedding cake; black-forest with cream cheese filling, decadent ganache, and more calories than there are people in China. I was saving it for my wedding, but I’ve finally come to accept that such an event will not occur, and was willing to pawn it off on the first schmoe who was willing to eat it all in one sitting. The cat and the ant bump into the pig, and everything comes together at the patron’s table.

Porky is at the bottom, an apple stuffed in his mouth; the patron comes next, still bubbling; Conrad’s above him, angry, and with pancakes still on his head, (Cat hairs? Double ew); and the ant ended up on top, happily taking the place of the groom. To be fair, my 5,063rd dream come true is put my arm around a woman of marzipan. How come the ants Porky encounters live the life I want to have? Envy of an insect is pathetic.

Favorite Part: You really cold blink and miss it. The moment before Conrad starts wildly swinging his spatula, look at his face.

Frustration at its finest.

Rating: 3.

Westward Whoa

“Th-Th-Th-Th-Those k-k-kids must think we’re pr-pretty dumb.”

Supervision by Jack King; Animation by Paul Smith and Ben Clopton; Music by Norman Spencer. A Looney Tune released on April 25, 1936.

This picture opens up eerily similar to the Mickey short “Pioneer Days”. But that’s explainable. Jack worked on that picture too. And Mickey was all color by this point in time, so they probably figured nobody would even remember his old work anymore. Give anything enough time, and you can claim credit as the first human to create it. I think I just need two more years before I debut my novel: “Anna Karenina”.

A wagon train crosses the land. Beans and Kitty are the leaders of this outfit, and they’ve got the most bad@$$ crew available. There’s Porky Pig.

That’s all. But they might as well bring more along for the trip. You can’t make a whole settlement with only three pioneers. The only other ones I could name though are Ham and Ex, making their final appearance. Good for them. Kitty decides they will make camp in this area that has tall shady trees, comfortable rocks, and essential for life water. Everything you need when taking over somebody else’s home.

This calls for a hootenanny! Let the music and dancing commence! Proto-Petunia dances with the last of Goopy’s lineage. They don’t really care for one another, but they are the closest match for the dog and pig dancers from Mickey’s party. Strangely enough, no Mickey clones show up. You’re telling me those guys have dignity? While the adults have their fun, Ham and Ex tell Beans that they will be off playing “Indians” in the woods. People die on these kind of trails all the time, so Beans just reminds them to be wary of the real deal.

Almost immediately, the two think they spot the feathered headdress of what could be a chief. Wild turkey surprise! They change games and start playing ‘Cry Indians’. That’s a serious threat, and the rest of the train gets their firearms ready to defend. Beans takes a shot and the bird loses his biggest fan. What a disgrace to natural art. The pups laugh themselves silly and don’t think to do so where Beans won’t see. I mean, for all he knows, you could have made a genuine mistake. But not now. Dummies.

He warns that a real “Indian” could very well remove your head. Remembering Ex exists, he tells him he too, could also fall victim. (And if you need help remembering “X” exists, follow this link.) This threat doesn’t bother the kids too much, and they start doing “Indian” impressions next. Once again, panic ensues. The adults waste more bullets, and the brats decide this time to hide, so Beans can’t fail to scare them again. Since he can’t find them, he might as well go back to chopping color-changing wood.

Aw, shucks! Looks like the real deal has shown up. The two are able to get him stuck in a log, and beat him a bit, but their cries for aid aren’t taken seriously anymore. I’m all for children learning, so I don’t feel too bad. There are reinforcements around. Some are human, some are canine, and some are frightening combinations thereof. But the chief almost looks like a dhole, so he might legit be Indian. It feels weird not feeling weird to call him that.

Porky is the first to spot the natives. Poor guy is so scared that even his normal speech pattern is a luxury. He finally shouts things out when an arrow gets him in the rear. Even if this land is rightfully theirs, they have a problem with me now. Whoever shot him, come forward! I promise your death will be swift. Excruciatingly painful, yes, but its the best deal you’re going to get. The pioneers fight back.

Ham and Ex are able to still do some good smacking, (that’s a humorous scream their pursuer has,) but he gets a hold of them anyway. The duo’s screams are heard by Beans who I guess was actually too cowardly to fight and was hiding in the woods. Or nature called. They’d be equally funny. He redeems himself by throwing a bear trap like a hammer and pinching the threat’s cheeks.

Not aware that Beans saved their hides, the twins watch the native flee. With their backs turned, Beans seizes the opportunity to give them a taste of their own medicine. You like that guys? Karma’s your mom!

Favorite Part: One settler is getting chased by a native, and saves some time by handing over his wig. Another joke from Disney, but made funnier here by the native happily cheering.

Personal Rating: 3. I do think Mickey’s was better. Mostly because the natives are all rat/wolves or something. Makes them less offensive today.

The Henpecked Duck

“Say, is there a magician in the house?”

Supervision by Robert Clampett; Story by Warren Foster; Animation by John Carey; Musical Direction by Carl W. Stalling. A Looney Tune released on August 30, 1941.

Everybody wants a divorce these days! It’s almost as if romance was a myth all along. I mean, I’ve had my suspicions, but this isn’t about me. The proceedings take place in the court of inhuman relations. Naturally, I’d expect no fairer judge than Porky. Anything he declares just, I do. First case: the duck family. Daffy approaches as miserable as one can be. This must be some screw-up for him to take things this seriously. The maybe soon to be ex-Mrs. approaches determinedly. She really wants that divorce!

Porky asks that she explain why she’d want to part with such a catch. Sure, he’s a bit… or rather he is Daffy, but it’s not like he’d be abusive. Please elaborate. This began when she was going to visit her mother. She and her husband were expecting their first child, so Daffy was going to be incubating them. It already seems like things weren’t working out in Daffy’s favor. Mrs. Duck threatens him bodily harm, doubts his ability to stay focused, and the brow-beaten guy can only reply with a quiet “Yes, m’love.”

Until she’s out of the house and he feels like he can act how he really feels. Mockingly repeating his latest catchphrase and making faces. Revealing she was still within earshot, he returns to the nest on his best behavior. Yeah, I think the poor dear needs to escape such a shrewish wench. Just because we’re guys doesn’t mean the marriage always fails because of us! The flashback keeps going, so I guess Daffy told her this part. Given what we’ve seen, I’m surprised she isn’t trying to embellish it more in her favor. “Yes, Daffy starting to abort our duckling via anvil. Also, he was giving cigarettes to minors.”

Well, Daffy by name also means daffy by nature. It wasn’t long before he was bored of sitting still and starting playing around with the egg. He smashes it between his palms, but there’s no trace of shell, albumen or embryo. It’s disappeared! Then with some awesome magic words: “Hocus-pocus, flippity flam, a-razzamatazz and alakazam!”, the egg reappears without a scratch on it! Look at Daffy’s reaction! Even he is amazed that this worked. Then he… steps out of the scene? Is that right? He clearly steps down onto… nothing. Is it suggesting he came out of the picture to entertain on stage? What am I missing? I just want my life to be complete!

Well, if you can do something once, logic says you can do it again. (I’ve actually died half a dozen times. You just haven’t noticed.) Nope! No dice! That egg is gone! Trapped in the space between spaces. What a place to be born! If that’s even a possibility, of course. Daffy panics. Sure, the wife won’t be pleased, but that was his child too! Over and over, he repeats his chant, saying ‘alakazam’ so much that you could mistake him for a Pokemon, but he gets no results. And time isn’t feeling particularly kind today. It continues to keep moving forward. Time is mean and I don’t like it.

Oh, crap! Look who is actually returning! I was sure she was having a beautiful rest, and deciding she’d never go back to her nest. Daffy needs an egg to fool her, but the closest thing available is a doorknob. As long as it stays pointed down, she’ll never be able to tell. Duck eggs are always as cold as a brass monkey! Where did you think the phrase ‘cold duck’ came from? It rolls over just as he’s sitting, and mama catches on very fast. That brings us to today. Now, I can take her side.

Daffy pleads with Porky to give him just one more chance. I don’t think I’ve made my feelings on Porky clear enough in the fourteen years I’ve been doing this. *ahem* PORKY IS SUCH A STAND UP GUY THAT HE IS WILLING TO LET THE PHSYCOPATH HAVE ANOTHER SHOT AT WHAT HE FAILED TO DO HALF A BILLION TIMES!!! BECAUSE HE BELIEVES IN HIM AND WANTS TO SEE TRUE LOVE PREVAIL!!!! ALSO, HE’D SHARE HIS LUNCH WITH YOU!!!

I’m cool. Listen to me. Anyway, Daffy gives it one final shot, but this time he adds a little something: a prayer. And that was the missing ingredient. Of course! God forsakes all magic that does not come from him, and was waiting to be asked for forgiveness! (My sister just became a missionary. Hats off to her, if you please.) The couple makes up, and the egg hatches. All is beautiful, all is well.

Favorite Part: When Daffy sits on the pointy-side up doorknob, he makes a face. A face that says he didn’t know he was about to be goosed.

But that doesn’t mean he minded.

Personal Rating: 3

And of all the years to not be invited to San Diego Comic-con as a guest! I can’t believe I missed out on seeing the reveal trailer of “Coyote Vs Acme”! Me! The Internet’s looniest fan! I’m that. Believe me. If I don’t see that footage by next week, I’ll… I’ll… Gosh. What will I do?