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The time is upon us… 🎃☕️ (An old cartoon for Weekly Humorist)
Collab with the great for Weekly Humorist
“Watermelon Bones!”
reading time: 3 minutes
A YOUNG WHIPPERSNAPPER'S HARD WORK AND LOVE OF FAMILY PAYS OFF WITH A MAGICAL CHRISTMAS -- well, not quite..
. a comedic and classic tale of naughty and nice.
Two questions tugged at the very soul of this eight-year-old boy leading up to Christmas in 1967: One, what would Santa bring me that magnificent morning (duuhhh)? Two, would God answer my kinky prayer and let me see my teacher's b***s?
Concluding divine intervention would most prudently be invoked in a more dire circumstance, I'd settle for a Sting-Ray bike. And my folks knew I was dead serious when I demanded my letter to the North Pole be sent registered mail. I was no dummy. With a signature of receipt from the wrinkled and Parkinson's-trembling hand of old lady Claus, I'd guilt-shame the crimson fat man into forcing overtime on some non-union elf and lock it up. Just one minor detail could keep me from my Schwinn.
Where did I stand on that nerve-racking list of naughty and nice? Sure, I helped mom with chores all year. And when dad worked on the station wagon, I was the bitch that ran for tools and soda. Understand the spirit of child labor laws had not yet reached our neighborhood. But even scarier? What if that poisonous rumor I heard from the sixth graders at school was true? That there was no Saint Nick and parents bought presents! Now, for the first time in my life, I had to face the possibility that Santa might be nothing more than a sweat-soaked, ex-con with Jack Daniels breath and insulin resistance. And was it any coincidence he got his jollies asking kids like me to sit on his lap at the mall? I think not. Especially when our mall was more than 300 yards from a school. Yes, if my parents were really Santa, I'd need to factor in some of the dirty tricks and hissy fits I pulled off over the past year, too. A few stood out.
My mom's sister and her husband lived up the street but they separated so Aunt Katy moved in with us. I dug this set-up because she was always buying me hockey sticks and jerseys. So I saved up my lunch money and got Uncle Bill a magazine subscription. It was under "his" name but I had it mailed to "our" address. But the plan backfired. Needless to say, it came as less than marriage-saving, spiritual restoration to Aunt Katy when the first copy of "HOT BABES ON DEATH ROW" arrived. The swimsuit edition with a centerfold, too (I still have it). Strike one.
The Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer incident from last year didn't help my odds, either. It's the night of my favorite holiday show and I can almost taste it because they already played the Santa on a Norelco electric razor commercial. In less than a minute I'd get my get my fix of The Misfit Toys and Rudolph's love Clarice. By the way, few know that Clarice had her name legally changed after the release of Silence of the Lambs with Hannibal Lecter in 1991. Sadly, she died of a gunshot wound during doe season the following year. But I digress.
I'd see Hermey, too! That lovable elf who wanted to be a dentist. Not a good career move in Christmastown. He was bullied by the other elves but got the last laugh. When production ended in 1964, he successfully sued NBC-TV for fostering a hostile work environment.
Now I could hear the heartwarming voice of Burl Ives begin to fill our den when the unthinkable happened: Mom changed the channel! She made me watch some pity-drama about rotting kids on the other side of the planet and the humble gifts they wanted for Christmas. When it was over, she asked, "Now wouldn't you like to give one of your presents to those poor souls?" In retrospect, I can assure you the response she wanted was not "Are you f**king crazy!? Those dumb-as*es should be asking Santa for discount legal representation to get out of that sh*t hole. Cutting me off from Yukon Cornelius isn't going to change that you middle-aged reincarnation of Joan Crawford!" Strrrrrrriike two.
That same year my sister Lois turned 16 and was allowed to date so she invited her boyfriend Tobey to our house for Christmas Eve dinner. We've all seen this movie. She paraded this dork around my disinterested and eggnog-drunken relatives like a bull calf at a livestock auction. Mom liked him though. At least enough that he got a candy-packed, crimson and green stocking with sparkles hung on the mantle that was bigger than mine! Once the puppy lovers kicked the snow off their boots and came to the fireplace, Tobey pulled the stocking down and shoved it in his winter coat pocket. Next came the predictable fake smile and awarding my mom the obligatory hug of ingenuine thanks. On cue, I graciously took his coat, put it on the spare room couch with the others then upgraded the stocking's contents. Not with a lump of coal like some Ebenezer Scrooge starter kit, but with a couple Trojan condoms I spent a quarter on in the john of an Esso gas station. The beauty of this gag, I wagered, was that he'd be permanently confused and never ask a soul about it. Were my parents extending their blessing to him and my sister rolling in the hay? Or were they sending the message his loin swimmers were unworthy of our family gene pool? Never had much luck gambling. Tobey told his dad -- who confronted my dad. And like Yuletide magic, I was grounded, stripped of my allowance and seated uncomfortably at the very bottom of that proverbial hill shi*t rolls down. Strrrrrriike three! The batter's out.
Back to 1967 and drumroll please. It was now close to 8 pm so I watched the last few minutes of a Batman episode and was shuffled off to bed. Did I actually sleep? You know, with sugarplums dancing in my head? Hell no. But I must have dozed off because the next thing I heard was my sister squealing and yelling "Oh God!" She and Tobey had broken up in the summer so it wasn't that -- you pervert. Lois was opening presents. Santa had come! I sprang out of bed like Bill Gates and Prince Andrew caught on tape at Jeffrey Epstein's house.
My eyes quickly scanned the room. Nothing under the tree. Nothing by the fireplace. I even checked the garage. Nothing. Alas, my eyes accepted what my heart could not: I didn't get it. I started to cry. Dad called me over to sit on his lap in the big chair. "Son, you're old enough now to know there is no Santa Claus," he began. "Understood father," I conceded. "You were a good boy this year. You got good report cards and helped your mother and me around the house." Thinking to myself "THEN WTF!" I eked out the courage to ask why I got stiffed. Dad gently wiped a tear from my eye then put my tiny hand in his giant, warm paw and whispered, "Because you're adopted and we don't give a rat's a*s!"
Just kidding. I got it! Bright purple, too!
*** ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Senior on fixed-income writes to make people laugh -- and pay rent. If you can help me, please share this work with your friends and send a "dollar" to..
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God Bless and the Merriest of Christmas to you all!
My latest cartoon for Weekly Humorist 👻🪨
JAW-DROPPING 60'S & 70'S TV DIRT KEPT SECRET -- UNTIL NOW!
I GUARANTEE YOU DON'T KNOW THIS ONE: In 1972, NBC pulled an episode of the Cosby Kids shot in a bar where Fat Albert teaches the gang how to spike cocktails with Roofies. It remains lost. Or that Porky Pig enraged feminists because he refused to wear pants on the set. Filmed only in his blue coat and bow-tie, he was in-the-raw from the spareribs down. Porky's ex-wife Petunia says he survived a 1972 plane crash in the Andes mountains but was nonetheless cannibalized by non-Jewish and non-practicing Muslim passengers.
Thought you knew just about everything about the Scooby-Doo Show? Think again. Everyone's favorite hippy "Shaggy" Rogers came off as shy but was a notorious anti-Vietnam War protester and made multiple appearances on the Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour. But that landed him at the top of President Nixon's Enemies List and a prompt termination by CBS. Shaggy now owns a cannabis dispensary and munchies bar in Denver called Rut-Ro.
Brainy co-star Velma Dinkley toured with Josie and the Pussycats before becoming a five-time Jeopardy! champion. She spent the prize money on reassignment surgery as a pre-condition of employment and is now Nonbinary CEO of Derivative Securities at Goldman-Sachs in New York.
Teen heartthrobs Fred Jones and Daphne Blake brought some dirty laundry to the table, too. But whispers of their love affair were bogus as Fred was gay and dating Speed Racer at the time. Daphne took some get-rich-quick money from Hugh Hefner and posed topless for Pl***oy Magazine in 1971. The predictable outrage got her canned but she quickly signed onto the Wet Lingerie Beach Volleyball Circuit and is now its director emeritus.
Scooby's tragic fate shook the world! During an autograph-signing appearance in Shanghai, he was separated from his translator and wandered into the wrong part of town. In a matter of minutes our lovable Great Dane was made into a brown plate special at a Chinese restaurant owned by Chef One Hung Lo. Scooby snacks remain a popular delicacy there.
Fake love affairs were always started by the networks to boost ratings. The most famous had 16-year-old Barry Williams and Florence Henderson from the Brady Bunch exchanging fluids. False. In fact, a super-kinky Greg Brady dug "much" older women and was known to lustfully pound Alice the maid in her studio trailer on lunch breaks. Sam the Butcher would go to his grave telling anyone who would listen he got Syphilis from a toilet seat.
Wile E. Coyote sued Acme Products for pain and suffering in 1968. The suit claimed defective products including jet-powered roller skates, exploding tennis balls and boulder-proof parasols caused disfiguring damage to his looks and downgraded his on-screen rating from a one-bagger to coyote-ugly. But it was the Roadrunner who bowed out first. His complaints to ABC about limited dialogue (only "Beep Beep") and formulaic plot development were ignored. He became an inventor and made a fortune patenting a car horn which was bought by Plymouth.
Creative differences between Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd ended their partnership in 1974. Elmer's agent Dick Dastardly demanded an episode where Mr. Fudd outwits Bugs that ends with Elmer enjoying a tasty plate of hasenpfeffer. The network declined. Elmer now owns a Maine hunting lodge & adventure camp called Wascawwy Wabbits and pitches a line of over-sized hunting caps for Bass Pro Shops.
Underdog stymied villains Riff Raff and Simon Bar Sinister for years protecting Polly Purebred but his romantic advances towards her were always rejected. Broken-hearted, he moved on to voice Wally Cox as Captain Binghamton in McHale's Navy. See what I did there? Alas, a growing addiction to super energy pills led to a fatal overdose with Janis Joplin in 1970.
Try as the scoundrels might, foreign spies Boris Badenov and Natasha Fatale could never foil our heroes Rocky the Flying Squirrel and Bullwinkle J. Moose. At the suggestion of Dudley Do-Right, J. Edgar Hoover deported them in his final act as FBI director in 1972. They still work full-time for Fearless Leader Vladimir Putin as co-directors of the anti-west Russian Ransomware Division.
Dumbo the elephant was not murdered by ivory poachers. He died of a peanut allergy.
Wally Gator got fed up with Mr. Twiddle's harassment and became a technical director on Swamp People. He died of Covid-19 last month and is now a popular Gucci shoe section at Macy's in Manhattan.
Finally, there's the never-before-revealed fate of Quickdraw McGraw's Mexican burrow deputy Baba Looey. In 1967, this bad-ass (sorry) and his best amigo The Frito Bandito were gunned down at a bar in Laredo watching a donkey show.
And th' th' th' that's all folks!
******** About the author: Senior on fixed-income wishes to work his golden years as a writer -- not a security guard!.. So please help me make this happen and send "a dollar" to..
PayPal.Me/
Venmo: -Turney-10
Much obliged and God bless!!!