Archive For: Whale Comics

580 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 that...you 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!
Apr 19th, 2021
(Montanaface is dining at a restaurant called Chicken Cult, and a server approaches him) SERVER: Hi! Thanks for visiting our family restaurant! The chicken is good and right. I'm Kaitlyn! Can I get you anything? Some sauce, maybe? MONTANAFACE: I'm fine, thanks. SERVER: My pleasure! The chicken is good and right...Say, how'd you like to do something worthwhile with your life? MONTANAFACE: I've already got a menial, low-paying job, thanks. SERVER: Ha-ha, my pleasure! But I'm talking about the ultimate commitment, sir. See, when the Chicken Lord returns from his celestial throne amid the Lambda Centauri Nebula to harvest the righteous during The Chickening, we will all be escorted into his Chickenly Pleasure Sphere on wings of pure sauce to the Altar of the Divine Chicken Spectre, whose ancient knowledge is as deep and vast as the very River of Sauce itself and whose painless eternal embrace will usher in a golden age of endless love for everyone! 'Cept queers, of course. The chicken is good and right! Now. How 'bout some sauce for that sandwich. You won't even taste the secret ingredient...it's cyanide! MONTANAFACE: ...I'll think about it...Meantime, you seem like a 'low standards' kinda gal, what's say we head back to my place. SERVER: I'm saving myself for the Chicken Lord, thank you. MONTANAFACE: Why is every girl I meet 'saving herself for the Chicken Lord'? Am I that revolting? Couldn't we just talk a little before you decide? I really am a great guy. C'mon, Kaitlyn. Whatd'ya say. (She sits opposite him, and becomes reflexively fixed in a pose of utter revulsion as he looks on, bemused)
Apr 20th, 2021
(Whale is driving through the countryside in his vintage convertible and comes to a flooded bridge with a 'high water xing' sign. Next he comes to a bend in the road in a forest with a 'high deer xing' sign and some stoned deer wandering around on the road, smoking joints and bongs and one with its head in a bag of cheese puffs) WHALE: Get a job, you stupid high deer! DEER: This IS our job, man.
Apr 21st, 2021
(Platypus is getting pulled over on the highway) COP: Do you know why I pulled you over? PLATYPUS (flippantly): Boy, I dunno. Do you know why I pulled YOU over? COP: Oh, no you don't. That won't work on me. I know all the tricks. Seeya in court, kid. PLATYPUS (standing in front of a bemused judge, addressing him flippantly): Boy, I dunno. How'd you like me to hold YOU in contempt? PLATYPUS (standing in front of two angry convicts in a prison yard, shrugging flippantly): Boy, I dunno. Do YOU know what snitches get? PLATYPUS (strapped to an electric chair, replying to the executioner flippantly): ...Boy, I dunno. Do YOU have any last words? PLATYPUS (standing against God's podium in heaven, pointing downward flippantly): ...Boy, I dunno. Are you sure YOU belong here? PLATYPUS (lounging in a boiling pit, replying to Satan flippantly): ...Boy, I dunno. How would YOU like a red-hot poker straight up the keaster? SATAN (throwing up his hands in surrender): I can't take it anymore! The madness! The MAAAADNESS!
Apr 22nd, 2021
IFTEDDY (from behind his congressional desk with his feet up on it, flipping through an issue of a porn magazine called 'Butt Circus' and addressing Little Girl): Are you enjoying Take Your Daughter To Work Day? LITTLE GIRL: Uh, I'm not your daughter, and you're not working. IFTEDDY: Says you! I've got a MOUNTAIN of pornography to catch up on before the next ethics committee meeting...when you're done folding my underwear, you can give them to Alex, Phoebe, and Deb to alphabetize. LITTLE GIRL: Who? (Three angry girls appear) GIRLS: When do we get our free ponies, dude?! IFTEDDY: Ah, yes. The ponies I promised you. Well, the thing about the ponies is...there are no ponies. I lied to you. So you'd clean my office for free. But in my defense, I am a world-class liar and you four are remarkably credulous. But! To make it up to you, I got you some ice cream. It's right over there in that net next to the bent-over sapling!
Apr 23rd, 2021
LITTLE GIRL (holding her dolphin telephone and looking annoyed as she calls over her shoulder): Aright, Mom, jeez! I'm on the telephone, aright? I'll be down in five minutes! Just start supper without me. It's aright with me! (Suddenly Matthew McConaughey appears in her room holding a pan of pot brownies, some of which have been eaten) MATT: ...Hi. I'm Matthew McConaughey. LITTLE GIRL (startled): Aaaah! What the crap! MATT: You said 'aright' three times. Whenever anybody says 'aright' three times, I appear. I'm like Beetlejuice. Except high. LITTLE GIRL: Well, we'd better get you into a disguise quick. If my mom finds a fifty-one-year-old man with a pan of jazz brownies in my room, she'll lose her crackers. (Her mother pokes her head through the door and finds Little Girl holding the pan and eating a brownie, standing next to Matthew McConaughey who is now in a wild west panda costume) MOM: Catherine Bedelia Towne, your supper is getting--what is Matthew McConaughey doing in your bedroom dressed as a wild west panda? LITTLE GIRL: All will be revealed if you eat one of these brownies, mamacita. MOM: Ok, but they had better be CHOCK full of Jamaican Spaceman, because I feel like I'm gonna lose my crackers.
Apr 26th, 2021
(A severe-looking CEO lady at a desk with a cactus on it and a nameplate reading 'J.P. TANDYBUCK' lights a cigarette while responding to a call on speakerphone) TANDYBUCK: Tandybuck here. Make it fast. REP: Sorry to bother you, Ms. Tandybuck, but I've got a belligerent customer on the line demanding to speak with the CEO. TANDYBUCK: And I'm overjoyed that you've actually decided to put him through! That's sarcasm, genius. I'm running a Fortune 500 pharmaceutical company here, not the morning call-in show with Skip Dipshit and the Ding-Dong Crew. You're fired. REP: I don't really work here, ma'am. I'm a temp. TANDYBUCK: Oh yeah? Then you're hired! REP: Really! TANDYBUCK: Yes! And now you're fired. Put this clown on the line, then get the hell out of my building. (She presses a button on the phone) TANDYBUCK: ...Tandybuck Pharmaceuticals, our people make the difference--how can I help you, sir? WHALE: Yes. Finally. I'm calling about this Li'l Colon Butler thing I bought. TANDYBUCK: Ah, yes, Li'l Colon Butler. Our most popular colon cleansing device. Are the drills and brushes oscillating properly? WHALE: That is not the issue, madam. What concerns me is Li'l Colon Butler's size. TANDYBUCK: Right, it's half the size of original Colon Butler, for those with...discerning rectums. WHALE (on the phone next to a comically large version of Colon Butler): Boy, that's funny...because it looks TWICE as big to me! I can barely fit it in my house, let alone my anus--and I'm a whale! I demand a full refund...yes, that's right, a...now there's no need to get...now, hold it right there...you...I...I am not! I simply...now, look here...well that's...oh yeah? ...Shove it up where? That's exactly what I'm trying to do, lady! ...Hello? (Tandybuck is now snorting coke off her desk while still on speakerphone) WHALE: ...Hello? Tandybuck, I know you're still there, I can hear you doing cocaine...I'll just show myself out.
Apr 27th, 2021
(A caption at the top reads 'The following comic strip has been created using an artificial intelligence.*' A character resembling Joseph Devens but with teeth and features distorted or in the wrong locations is pointing at a pie chart divided into an impossible number of percentages with a giant blurry 'My Title' written above it and a key whose elements read 'Chonchy, Sleep, Dog Vaping, Writ, Draing, Cocoa Reality Butter, Contemplating Peanut, Dog Racing, Weep, Dog Draining, Chonchy,' and a blank space) JOSEPH: Greetings, Joseph Devens! This is a manga artist's greeting, Benz Death. I'm having fun with my trap and I love all the dogs in the sea. (The next panel has horribly distorted versions of Pig and Murphy speaking to each other. Pig has three eyes, three hooves and a hand, and a logo for 'McDong's' on his chest. Next to him float some upside-down dogs standing on two legs. Murphy's mouth is in his torso, and the word 'Press' is written partially backward on his hat and a lone molar floats near his head) PIG: We're gonna make a little change. Candy terror is real and this is my favorite way to eat candy. MURPHY: We have our own sweet tooth here. PIG: It's not a candy fish, it's your life. A lot of sugar goes a long way. MURPHY: We all want to be your friendly hands on these candy glops. PIG: The Big Candy Fisherman is back with a new album. Candy gloop. It's a perfect way to end your life. (Another caption at the bottom reads '*All of this will be extremely offensive to the sentient computer community in about fifty years. We offer our sincerest apologies.')
Apr 28th, 2021
(Exterior of the Towne residence) LITTLE GIRL (holding her fingers curled up to her mouth like fangs and confronting her mother, who is reading in a chair next to a table with a landline phone and a picture of a lighthouse on the wall): Mom. Mom! I am a vampire? MOM: You...is that a question? LITTLE GIRL: I just realized I haven't aged a day since 2002! And neither have you! MOM: You're probably not a vampire. Which I feel is something I shouldn't have to say as often as I do around here. LITTLE GIRL: This is serious! Were you stoned the ENTIRE pregnancy? Look at me! I've been seven years old for nineteen years! We still have a landline with a squiggly cord! Are there any gas lamps in this house? Siri, do we own a horse? I just asked our magic A.I. butler if we owned a horse, mom. What the hell year is this anyways! MOM: ...Fine. You're a vampire. (Exterior of Duck's house, which is outfitted with security cameras and large satillite dishes. Little Girl appears silhouetted in the doorway of Duck's garage, which is a vast science lab. He is working on some invention in the foreground in full protective gear) LITTLE GIRL: Hey, mister! DUCK: Are you here with my thin mints? LITTLE GIRL: I'm not a girl scout. DUCK: Yeah, I know. My inquiry still stands. LITTLE GIRL: Look, I need your help. I know you're into science because there is constantly a weird gas coming out of your house. DUCK (angrily): That gas is patent pending! Are you with DuPont? Get out! LITTLE GIRL: I just want to know why I haven't aged since I turned seven. DUCK: ...Interesting, yes. Ok, I will help you age, but only if you keep me in cookies the whole time. LITTLE GIRL: Cool. I was gonna give you one thousand dollars cash in an unmarked envelope, but I can do cookies too.
Apr 29th, 2021
DUCK (placing pills in a bottle with a tweezers): Ok, first rule of Age Repair Club: tell everybody you know I invented Age Repair Club so I can become famous enough to date St. Vincent. LITTLE GIRL: Uh...I got bad news for you. DUCK: Shush! It can wait! Now just swallow nine of these wildly experimental gumball-sized horse pills I invented ten minutes ago. LITTLE GIRL: ...But I got here four minutes ago. DUCK: You've been seven your whole life and you're arguing with me about the logistics of suppressed time displacement? LITTLE GIRL: Why are the pills GLOWING? DUCK: That's just your basic ionizing radia--look, I would never give you anything that would kill you right away, ok? (A caption reads 'Three Minutes Later') LITTLE GIRL (looking down at her fully-developed woman's body): Hot damn! Boobs! Now I can do anything! DUCK (suddenly very old, toothless, bearded, bespectacled, and walking with a cane): Who the hell are you! Get out of my garage! Are you with DuPont? I will never sell it, hear! It's mine! LITTLE GIRL: Whoa. These pills made you older, too? DUCK: Sweetheart, I take a massive amount of drugs, you'll have to be more specific. (Exterior Whale's beachfront split-level house, where a lady answers the door to Little Girl) LADY: ...Can I help you, fully-grown woman? LITTLE GIRL: I'm looking for Whale. This is Whale's house. LADY: Oh dear. I'm afraid the previous owner of this house died a few years back. They say his blood was mostly circus cheese and Wild Turkey. Some of his stuff is still in the basement, I think. LITTLE GIRL: That's impossible, Whale is my best friend. He would've told me if he was dead. LADY: You're welcome to look around if you like. LITTLE GIRL: So how does this work, I show you my boobs and you let me in the basement? LADY: ...Or we could go down there fully clothed like two normal people. LITTLE GIRL: Right. Sorry. I'm still getting used to these. (A caption at the bottom reads 'To Be Concluded...')
Apr 30th, 2021
(Little Girl stands silhouetted in the basement doorway of Whale's old house, looking down at the boxes he left behind at the foot of the stairs, with a clarinet, a bowling ball, and an ashtray scattered around them, and a mouse roaming around on the floor. She finds an envelope with a 'W' seal and the words 'To Catherine on her 26th birthday' written on it. With Whale's clarinet under her arm she opens it, finding a key and a note enclosed, and reads: '...Dear Cat--Don't be sad. I knew this would happen eventually. I saw it in a dream, from which I awoke to the distant sound of a passing train. I climbed aboard and found this key. It opens a memory. The memory opens a wish. The wish reveals a truth. And in that truth, a puzzle whose solution is a secret. And the secret, dear girl, is that a picture is worth a thousand years. Your friend, Whale'. Exterior of the Montauk train station. Little Girl is inside, Whale's clarinet still under her arm, trying the key in one of the lockers. She finds a lockbox inside one of them with a whale symbol on it. She opens it and finds a polaroid of herself and Whale at Sea Fest with 'Me & C 2002' written on the bottom) LITTLE GIRL (looking at the photo sadlly): ...I wish Whale were here. I wish I were a little girl. (Her wish is granted and suddenly Whale is standing with her looking excited and happy to see her, and she is back to being seven years old and overjoyed to see him. A caption at the bottom reads 'The End')