Archive For: Whale Comics

570 things.
Jan 3rd, 2002
WHALE: Hey, a 'possum. Let's wake it up. DUCK: I think this one's actually dead, man. WHALE: How do you know? DUCK: Because I've been poking it with this stick for five hours. Plus, half of it is still back there in the road.
Jan 10th, 2002
WHALE: Good morning, Iftheodorerooseveltwerearabbit. How were the primaries? IFTEDDY: Not good. Turns out people aren't keen on liberal public urination policies. WHALE: Maybe if you'd stop kissing attractive married women after your speeches. With your tongue. IFTEDDY: Look, babies are so passé.
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Jan 4th, 2017
(MURPHY is holding up a copy of the Long Island Ledger, with the headline 'Trump Names Cabinet' at the top, and a prominent ad saying 'Become A Private Eye' at the bottom) MURPHY: ...and Charlie Sheen as head of the ATF. IFTEDDY: Shut up what's that. MURPHY: This is a newspaper. IFTEDDY: Shut up not this, that! MURPHY: That is an advertisement. Advertisements make newspapers possible. In fact-- IFTEDDY: Become a private eye, eh? ...Yes. Yes. Women. A gun... Yes. (Interior of IFTEDDY'S new private eye office) GORGEOUS ART DECO-ERA FEMALE CLIENT: Are you Buck Fancy, Private Eye? IFTEDDY: That's the name on the door, ain't it, baby? CLIENT: Sex me now, mister! IFTEDDY: I'm only good at two things, tootsie gams. Peelin' grapefruits and firing my gun. And you don't look like a grapefruit to me. Peppers! Applesauce! CLIENT: What?
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Aug 28th, 2018
(Exterior Greenwals, a pharmacy, in mid-summer) WHALE (to LITTLE GIRL): ...Now we're just gettin' my pills this time, ok! I am NOT walking outta here with a fat bag of pure marshmallows for that ravenous sugar drain of yours, so don't even think-- (Interior Greenwals, at a display that says 'Only 11568 shopping days left until Christmas 2049', with items such as pregnant and nursing female and lesbian Santas, a set called 'One-Piece Nativity' with the tagline 'Who needs a man to have a kid!', a snowglobe with 'Baby It's Fun Walking Home In The Cold Undeterred' on the base, a box of 'Rudolph The Red Flow's Peppermint Tampons', some mistletoe personalized for the names Holly, Debra, Emily, and Jane, a wreath with 'Bitch the halls, y'all!' on it, and a beverage case containing Plan B Unfertilizing Nog) WHALE: Motheragod, they got Christmas out already.
Sep 20th, 2018
(DUCK is watching TV) TV: Does your dog refuse to shut the hell up? Carlos Helvetica the Dog Rubberer will rub the noise right out of your dog and replace it with silent obedience. Call today! DUCK: Carlos... Helvetica... Dog Rubberer. Where's my wallet. DUCK (holding out a small dog): Are you Carlos Helvetica, the Dog Rubberer? MAN: That guy went to prison. DUCK: Really? Why? MAN: Rubbin' trouble. DUCK: Well that sure puts me in a pickle... Hey! Could you rub the noise out of my dog and replace it with silent obedience? MAN: My rubbin' days are over, kid. DUCK: Wait a second, you are Carlos Helvetica the Dog Rubberer! I recognize your callused palms from television! MAN: Shut up--do you hear helicopters?
Oct 30th, 2018

Dec 6th, 2018
(Duck is dressed in robes, wearing an antler-like headpiece with nipples on it, Pig is engrossed in his phone) DUCK: I have returned from the future in the time vehicle of my own design. Remember? The one you bet me five dollars would explode when I turned it on? PIG: I knew you could do it. How was the future. DUCK: It was double-dog miserable, thank you very much! Y'know how they say, 'children are our future'? Well, that ain't poetry, man! The future has nothing but babies and children in it! Babies! As far as the eye can see! And are they ravenous for breastmilk? You bet they are! My government-issued nipple crown is just destroyed, I tell you! PIG: I'm...sorry to hear that, you giant lactating menorah. DUCK: You are not sorry in the least, liar! You love my ragged, dry-as-a-bone nipples! You're practically laughing right in my very face! I can see you biting the inside of your cheek to keep from doing it out loud! You're a rotten friend, you owe me a finski, and you wouldn't last a week on Saturday Night Live! PIG, taking a photo of DUCK with his phone: Yeah, well, you look like Suckle Me Schlomo.
Feb 5th, 2019
MURPHY: Don't you think it's time to issue an official statement regarding your belligerent tantrum at the Suffolk County Blueberry Festival? #Muffingate has already become a trending scandal, congressman. IFTEDDY: Then they shouldn't have run out of blueberries, should they! MURPHY: ...You're saying the temporary pause in your blueberry muffin consumption did not prompt you to freak out and start the most potentially devastating commercial bakery fire in New York's 231-year state history? IFTEDDY: I handled the situation like a professional cucumber cooler is what I did. MURPHY: I wouldn't call throwing old women to the dirty ground as you explode through a flaming doorway screaming 'we're all gonna die' handling a momentary blueberry shortage like a professional anything. IFTEDDY: Please, there's no need to call me a hero. The only rewards I need are the smiles of the children whose grandmothers I used as human shields, and the purses I nabbed while selflessly running from the factory's burning skeleton.
May 16th, 2019
PIG: ...And I'm glad I did. Because when that baby smiled and giggled at me on the bus today, it really reaffirmed the essence of my humanity. One never realizes how much good a child's laughter does one's soul. DUCK: We should go to a slaughterhouse. PIG: Good Christ. DUCK: I've always wanted to visit a working abattoir. And they probably give out free samples after the tour. PIG: Of what. Raw chuck? DUCK: I dunno. Somethin'. BUTCHER (from behind a meat case, with a logo that says 'Bud Abattoir - Since 1895'): Youse want hot fudge on your raw chuck sundae? DUCK (excitedly): Was Upton Sinclair a whiny little muckraking dandy-fop!
Aug 29th, 2019
(IfTeddy and Little Girl are at a strip club, Little Girl is blindfolded) IFTEDDY: Hey keep it on, I said! LITTLE GIRL: I know we're at a strip club, congressman. The whole place smells like shrimp daiquiris and industrial stain remover. IFTEDDY: We certainly are NOT at a strip club! This is a very exclusive pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey club for government officials like myself, truck drivers, and Asian businessmen. LITTLE GIRL: Oh boy! Why didn't you say so! Can I have a turn! IFTEDDY: Why, sure! Here is a large pin. The donkey's name is Tapioca. (Exterior of T.A. Jigglesqueezer's Upscale Gentlemen's Money Pit) IFTEDDY (from inside a car, about to pull away): 5...Finishing my drink. 4...Grabbing my coat. 3...Slipping out the back. 2...Starting the car. 1. Leaving quietly before the cops arrive. AND...
Dec 5th, 2019
(Treasury Secretary Steven Mnuchin is being interviewed by Sean Hannity on Fox News with the caption 'Treas. Secretary To Dump Loads Into Economy') MNUCHIN: The reality, Sean, is simply this--dog shit is money...And should be used as such from now on. (IfTeddy is shown watching this program on TV and gleefully exclaiming) IFTEDDY: Oh BOY!! Dog shit is money, I KNEW it! Now where'm I gonna find a whole buncha-- (Exterior Murphy's house, IfTeddy is speaking to him on the doorstep as Murphy eats a plate of cake) MURPHY: You can have all the shit I make. IFTEDDY: Really?! MURPHY: It's all yours. IFTEDDY: Hey--you're being awful nice to me, considering you're a liberal newspaper reporter and all... MURPHY: Pal, this economy is about to Hindenburg all over the place. And whereas I can always make my own money, you, alas, cannot. It's God's way. Now follow me. (IfTeddy and Murphy are standing on the back patio of Murphy's house, looking at a lawn full of dog shit) IFTEDDY: Wow! Where am I gonna put all this money! MURPHY: How about where your mouth is.
Jun 25th, 2020
(Platypus is phoning Whale from the bar Boobers, surrounded by beautiful women and beer) PLATYPUS: Whale! You gotta get down to Boobers, man! It's Virus-Behind-Us Tuesday, and they're sellin' wings for a damn penny! That's Teapot Dome Scandal prices! Sauce is flowing like the filthy Mississippi! The girls are wearing fried pickle pasties! Some asshole put a Phil Spector wig on a living horse and it is our king now! We've burned the laws of man! Come take a ride on the sauce-n-slide, Whale! This place is a three-ring pennychicken circus, I tell you! Get in your car, man, the virus is over! (Whale is sitting in his living room wearing a mask, next to a Boobers blow-up doll and a package of 'dehydrated chicken' and a jar of 'dehydrated beer') WHALE: I will certainly NOT be joining you at Boobers, Platypus. I am perfectly happy dining alone, in the safety of my living room, with my Virtual Boobers Stay-At-Home Paranoia Party Pack, thank you very much. And I ain't leavin' 'til Dr. Fauci himself says the virus is over! PLATYPUS: ...Fauci's HERE, man! And he's licking sauce off of everyone's dirty faces! (Whale and Platypus are in a graveyard, wearing masks, looking at a tombstone with an angel carving that's also wearing a mask, that reads 'Dr. Anthony Fauci 1940-2020 'Sometimes you flatten the curve; sometimes the curve flattens you') WHALE: What did I say! Did I say Boobers was a bad idea?! PLATYPUS: I told that clown not to make out with the horse.
Mar 31st, 2021
(Whale is looking content against a landscape) WHALE: Ahh...This is the only way to travel... (A wider shot reveals Whale immersed in a vat labeled 'GRAVY' on an open train car) WHALE: ...By gravy train! (Suddenly he is uncomfortable and reaches down into the gravy) WHALE: Ow! What the- (He pulls up a plastic baggie with four keys in it) WHALE: I wonder what these go to? Well, I'd better try 'em in the first place I come to with locks! (Whale makes his way through a train car to the exit, passing a child gleefully kicking the back of Murphy's seat while he attempts to type on his commute, as well as a pair of empty suits of armor conversing) ARMOR 1: Sometimes I only feel like a shell of my former self ARMOR 2: I know joust what you mean! (Whale spots a bank of coin lockers in the train station, next to a Daily Gnus stand and a Sin-A-Bun shop) WHALE: Excellent! And narratively convenient! (He tries the key in a series of increasingly bizarre locks until finally it fits one) WHALE: Nope...nope...nope...uhhhh...Aha! Boy, if this nonsense had gone on much longer I'd have had a lot of emotional... (He opens the locker, revealing a valise) WHALE: Baggage? Well, hopefully unlocking this will put an end to this brief... (He unlocks the valise, revealing a portfolio) WHALE: ...Case? Alright, this is getting weird and I'm beginning to fear for my safety... (He unlocks the portfolio, revealing a lockbox) WHALE: ...Deposit box?? So help me, if there is an even smaller locking container inside this one, I'm all out of keys so it'll be a recipe for disas- (He opens the box, revealing two paper items) WHALE: Oh. It's a recipe for pistachio cake, actually. Hey! And a photo of me and my favorite Whaleshavik, Catherine, from 2002! These are some pretty odd things to find quadruple-locked in this remote train station. I wonder who- Holy shit, hang on, 2002?? Why in Krill's name is she still a little girl after nineteen years?? (A nearby alarm sounds with an ominous 'Dun dun DUNNNN!')
Apr 1st, 2021
(Whale is on the phone, standing next to an open door with a large, full bucket of poutine balanced on top of the door) WHALE: Duck. Come over to my house and walk through the front door. It's important. DUCK: Is there a large bucket of pure French-Canadian poutine balanced on the top of the door waiting to dump all over me the moment I walk in? WHALE: ...No. DUCK: Whale... WHALE: Ok, how did you know. DUCK: A new app I invented--YouPou! YouPou alerts me to the existence of large buckets of pure French-Canadian poutine anywhere within a five-mile radius of my location. WHALE: That is absolutely the dumbest idea I've ever heard. I'm goin' outside for a smoke. (The bucket falls on forgetful Whale as he attempts to exit, and now three dogs are all over him, eating the spilled poutine) DUCK: Tragic news, Whale. YouPou has notified me that a large poutine bucket has been spilt in vain. The PouPup Dog Squad should be arriving shortly to assess and manage the detritus. WHALE: They're here.
Apr 2nd, 2021
(Little Girl, clutching a sleeping bag under each arm, excitedly addressing a bemused-looking Whale) LITTLE GIRL: Whale! Take me camping! No phones! No computers! No electronic devices! 48 hours of technology-free transcendentalism! (Whale and Little Girl are now toasting marshmallows around a campfire and zipped into sleeping bags outside a Techmonger superstore in a line with other people, he looking satisfied and she looking annoyed. A sign outside the store proclaims 'Phones! Computers! Electronic Devices! Techmonger Blowout Sale! Begins in 48 hours!')
Apr 5th, 2021
(Pig excitedly approaches Duck, who is idly licking an ice cream cone) PIG: Are you thinking what I'm thinking! DUCK: Grace Kelly was a slut. PIG: Almost! I should get a raven as a pet! They are smart as a dog, y'know. (A raven screeches at them from a pedestal) RAVEN: Modern Egyptians worship peanut butter! Freemasons control the Westminster Dog Show! Squirrels are money in Canada! Eleanor Roosevelt was Benny Goodman in drag! Telephones lactate when you're not looking! Grace Kelly was a slut! DUCK: I knew it! Grace Kelly WAS a slut! We all heard him say it! PIG (typing on a calculator): ...How in God's name do they make change in Canada.
Apr 6th, 2021
(Exterior view of a sperm bank, then Platypus is inside talking to a receptionist) PLATYPUS: I'd like to take out a home loan, please. RECEPTIONIST: This isn't that kind of bank. PLATYPUS: I know exactly what kind of bank it is. It is you, madam, who doesn't know what kind of house I'm trying to buy! RECEPTIONIST: ...What the hell kind of a sick, messed up house does one pay for in human sperm. (Platypus is on a payphone outside a dilapidated cabin with a jukebox next to it and a large lit sign on top that reads 'The Love Shack'. He has a large, full bucket of white stuff in front of him) PLATYPUS: Hello, B-52s? I've got what you asked for. Bring me the deed.
Apr 7th, 2021
(Whale is on the phone, with an object in front of him on the table that is a series of drill bits surrounding a dancing chimney sweep figurine holding steel brushes. Nearby is an opened box with 'Colon Butler' printed on the side and an illustration of a formal-looking head butler, with packing peanuts and instructions and tools scattered around it) REP: ...Tandybuck Pharmaceuticals, how may I direct your call? WHALE: I'm concerned about this Colon Butler thing I bought. REP: Oh, it's a simple colon cleansing device, sir. And it's virtually painless, don't worry. WHALE: That's not my concern. I'm wondering why it's called a 'butler,' and there is clearly a butler pictured on the box, yet the actual device instead resembles a cockney chimney sweep. REP: That's...THAT'S your concern? WHALE: Yes. Also, how do I turn it on once it is fully inside of my anus and rectum. REP: Colon Butler is activated via the Colon Butler app. Once inserted, you may also adjust the speed and vibration levels of the oscillating drill bits and steel brushes. WHALE: Mm-hmm...and I can toggle between butler and chimney sweep at that point? REP: ...Sir, are you sure you aren't at all concerned about the insertion process? Most of the calls I handle- WHALE: What happens when the butler and chimney sweep disagree? What then? How do I reconcile both identities? I am NOT turning my fudge house into a three-ring Jekyll and Hyde butt circus if I can help it, Ok?...Hello?
Apr 8th, 2021
(Exterior of a donut shop called 'Sticky 'Nuts!'. Exterior of an optometrist's office with a sign reading 'Adjust Yer 'Balls?'. Exterior of a fast food restaurant called 'Fried Chicken Boobs'. Exterior of an antique store called 'Grandma's Privates'. Exterior of a store called 'The Butt Hole Smoke Shop', with Little Girl and Whale standing outside looking annoyed at each other) LITTLE GIRL: ...Ok, look. I didn't say anything at the donut shop, your optometrist appointment, the chicken restaurant or the antique shop. But this is where I draw the line.
Apr 9th, 2021
(Little Girl is dressed as a spangly magician and talking to IfTeddy) IFTEDDY: Well, someone's been to the sequin depot!...Or has burgled Liberace's...grave? LITTLE GIRL: You do close-up magic, right? IFTEDDY: Who told you that filthy lie! Are you recording this conversation? LITTLE GIRL: ...No? IFTEDDY: Well then you're double damn right I do close-up! Stage name's David Cop-a-feel. What's your handle? LITTLE GIRL: Catherine The Great! IFTEDDY: Nuh-uh. Gotta change that name. There already was a Catherine The Great, and she was a deluxe badass. A poet with a broadsword, downright refused to produce proper babies, let everybody eat cake for supper. Tits like a racehorse. LITTLE GIRL: If you love her so much, why doncha marry her! IFTEDDY: Because I'm not a melonfarming communist, that's why! LITTLE GIRL: Every vulgar word you've said in the last minute seems grossly inaccurate, but I choose to believe you because you talk like the pirate on the fishsticks commercial they play on Nickelodeon PM.
Apr 12th, 2021
DUCK (speaking to the clerk at a convenience store): One box of sausage skins, if you please. CLERK: Is mean condoms? Is that slang for condoms? DUCK: No, it is not slang for con-doms! If I'd wanted con-doms, I'd've said con-doms! I'm preparing sausage, it needs to be stuffed, so I need plenty of sausage skins, ok? CLERK: Why are you saying 'con-doms'? DUCK: That's how you say it. CLERK: That's how English people say it. DUCK: Look, mate, just gimme somethin' to wrap my meat in, savvy? CLERK: Fine. What kind of sausage skins would you like...mate. DUCK: Banana flavored, please. Ribbed, for her pleasure.
Apr 13th, 2021
(IfTeddy is visiting Little Girl's second grade class) MS. MCALPINE: Ok class! Let's give a warm Montauk Elementary welcome to New York's first congressional district representative, the dashing and sophisticated Mr. Iftheodorerooseveltwerearabbit! IFTEDDY: Thanks, candy gams. And I'd just like to say that even though I'm required to teach you poetry here today as part of my court-ordered community service sentence for indecent exposure, there's nowhere I'd rather be than as close to your teacher as the cops will allow. Right! First, let's look at a handy tool called assonance! I'm sure you can all hear the repeated vowel sound in this sentence. (He writes 'Paul got fondled by Ronald McDonald.' on the board and the children look quizzically at each other and Little Girl looks impassive) IFTEDDY: Now let's learn how a single comma can change a declarative sentence, which relays information, into an imperative sentence, which gives a command! (He writes 'Grimace spit on me.' and then 'Grimace, spit on me!' on the board. The children look shocked and Little Girl looks annoyed) IFTEDDY: Here's a fun little device called consonance. Can you identify the repeated 'S' sounds in this sentence? Of course! (He writes 'Mayor McCheese must resist selling smack or risk prison.' on the board, and the children look repulsed and Little Girl looks very angry) IFTEDDY: And finally, what poem would be complete without some good ol' fashioned alliteration! (He writes 'The Hamburglar Has Herpes.' on the board and the children start crying and Little Girl continues to look angry) MS. MCALPINE: Congressman, your sexy command of the English language is second only to William Shakespeare himself, and your ability to reduce an entire second grade class to tears of joy in under five minutes makes you worthy of sainthood. IFTEDDY: Your father was abusive and now you are attracted to horrible men. MS. MCALPINE: You're so insightful! Wanna get a burger?
Apr 14th, 2021
(Exterior of a missile silo, then Pig in an electronics store standing by a phone display, being helped by an employee, and answering a phone call from Duck) DUCK: Pig! Thank God you're alive! PIG: Should I not be? DUCK: Perhaps I'm projecting my recent near-death experience onto you. PIG: ...Ashley, I'm sorry. This is going to occupy absolutely the rest of my entire miserable day. The white case is fine. Thank you, Ashley. ...Ok what, Duck. DUCK: I fell down into the missile silo again, and I'm pretty deep down in here so you better come bring some ropes and shovels over here. PIG: ...Ashley, my friend fell into the missile silo. Can I come back tom- DUCK: Where are you? Am I on speaker? PIG: I'm at the Orange store buying a uPhone. DUCK: Really? Well the reception is tip-top, even in the missile silo. PIG: How would my new phone affect YOUR phone's recep-hello? (Exterior of the missile silo, which is now exploding) ASHLEY: Is everything ok, sir? PIG: Ashley, I have to go to Russia or possibly North Korea right now. Thank you, love, you've been more than helpful.
Apr 15th, 2021
(A presentation board with 'Trucks That Look Like Hitler by: Catherine Towne age 7' written on it, with a photo of a truck whose front features vaguely resemble Hitler's) TEACHER: ...I fail to grasp the scientific merit of your science project, Ms. Towne. Also, 'trucks,' plural, implies several, but you've only got one truck that looks like Hitler. LITTLE GIRL: Next you'll be criticizing Einstein for only having one theory of relativity!
Apr 16th, 2021
(Whale is at the grocery store pushing a cart and holding up a bunch of bananas as he addreses an employee) WHALE: Yes--how much are these bananas? EMPLOYEE: Yes! We have no bananas. WHALE: No. I am SHOWING you the bananas. These bananas, yes? EMPLOYEE: No! We have some bananas. WHALE: Yes? Some? EMPLOYEE: No. No some. WHALE: No? EMPLOYEE: Yes. No bananas. Today! (Another employee appears, identical to the first but wearing a different apron print) WHALE: ...Hey, why is her apron different from yours? EMPLOYEE: One of us is the holographic manifestation of a computer program designed to torture confessions out of suspected terrorists, and the other works here. WHALE: And you are?.. EMPLOYEE: Oh ho-ho no you don't mister! I'll be asking the answers today, thank you. WHALE: You're welcome? EMPLOYEE: Is that a ques--ERR-OR! ERR-OR! OCTUPLE NEGATIVE! ERR-OR!