Sling Set Extras (20 Sep, Last Of Marsupilamis Pt.1):

Sling Set extras (20 Sep, Last of Marsupilamis pt.1):

private chat w/Matt on Benton-Night’s computers

When I told him about Bluebottle’s decease in the 40 years since the Whale Sub Incident, heck even before that, I teased his knowledge of marsupilamis as I told him about my trip to Aguapiche, Bolivia with cousin Meg the cheetah, looking for Turnip tree beets for his hun-bun Jack O’Hare, their pulp and juice used as aphrodisiacs when ripe.

As we camped out beside a mature turnip tree, jamming to some samba station, a beet beaned me on the head and a distinct “Houba” was heard from the branches above us. I clawed up to the source, seeing the doc swayed to the rhythm of the night, then stopped once he saw me.

I heard Meg’s growling discomfort in her tent, doc thought the poachers were there ready to skin him. Vowing i wouldn’t rat him out if we were captured, I checked on my cuz back at the site, but not before Moira called me back to restock fresh paper for the printers. tbc

Sling Set, 20 September (Last of the Marsupilamis, part 1)

🐯: Heard of Dr. Bluebottle?

🏜🐺: Navy science shrimp, whale sub?

🐯: yep

Sea Monster Scoops Soft Serve Savings| Variety, Duckburg (September ‘89)

Need 2 file an update on his wanted status

🏜🐺: Can it wait? Sarge still bitter bout that APB Navy relayed on his escape near mid-atlantic. 📝 What do u know of him?

🐯: Cancel the search. He ded ☠️

🏜🐺: 😱 No Way! WHEN? HOW? WHERE?! What time?

🐯: 40 years, Bolivia, roughly 4:35 Central, stampede, least according to him

🏜🐺: 📝 Heavy ink. 😕😞 I’ll ask Lt. Biscuit to relay the intel to Adm. Grimmace—⚡️😵

🐯: 💢 Baskett & Grimitz, Lowbrow! ur slip-ups costing them taser money

🏜 🐺: 😵‍💫 😵‍💫 😵‍💫 Got it, Jo! Wait how culd doc tell u his death when u said he ded? Why did he tell u? Itz cuz of Slink? tail buddies amiright?

🐯: 💯 real talk: What if I told u that Bluebottle wuz rly a Marsupilami dressed in dogman clothes?

🏜🐺: Those leopard-monkeys with the long tails that go “Hoo-Haa”!? 🫤 rnt those comic book critters?

🐯: “Houba”! Bubo’s his name btw. N theyre no cartoon. last of his kind. his fur, Navy Blue, prized by poachers n rich ladies rdy 2 line their coats. N yeah, my long ass tail wuz plenty trust to tell me

🏜️ 🐺: musta bn like family to see a fellow tail bud, mad respect ✊

🐯: 😭 Better than Megara 🐆I’ll say. C iz Like this: “Jacky Buns” 🏜 🐇 pre-ordered some Turnip Trees off a village in Bolivia, Aguapiche, ripe for liquid viagra, but fam biz roped him out, he asked her to get them around August after monsoon season

🏜🐺: And she roped u for the rough stuff while she got hubby pts 4da nips?

🐯: WITH SLINK ON MY NECK! T_T. I held the gear, she handled beauty

🏜🐺: Wut r Turnip Trees byw?

🐯: Edible trees, wit else? First their turnip shape seeds, then grow to huge ass baobabs in 14 months if left unearthed, n they span the Aguapiche plains.

🏜️🐺: Howdu meet the Marsup?

🐯: As we camped out by a clearing btwn these babs, I tund the radio 4 weather updates but got Mambo 40s, volume at 9. Almost messed Meg’s routine. Just then, I could swear I heard cheering n steps from above the tree, a faint “Houba” or two

🏜️ 🐺: 😮 The ‘Lami

🐯: xctly. Turnip bud conked me awake. climbed up searching for the noisy critter when I caught Bluebottle jitterbugging to the sounds of samba.

🏜🐺: u ask why?

🐯: Couldn’t help it rly. Something about him in this tree tho, he felt at home, as if he was returning to his roots so to speak. He couldn’t member much after becoming Bluebottle

🏜🐺: SUS!

🐯: ditto! Convo broke from a growl near camp. poachers, he thought, looking to skin him. I swore not to out him if they caught me or my friends on the campsite ⛺️.

🏜🐺: Oh my!

🐯: afk, OL Mo needs 🖨 📄, tbc

🏜🐺: KMP!

I want to make this AMC fixture for our home theater (or for me), and I also like to know how I make these prism plates bouncing four colors off one bulb

Pluto Rises* (Paul Rudish Mickey short fanstory)

I’ve been looking deep into the Goofy-Pluto Paradox in all of disney media, where regular and anthropomorphic animals coexist yet there are others (**Doug Walker**) who flip out on the logic, can’t get how some animals are in clothes and gloves and others are naked and as pets. Now I did see the Paul Rudish Mickey Shorts on Youtube then Disney+, like the one where Goofy took Pluto’s place for a Dog Show BUTT NAKED ON FOURS, and one with Donald getting treated for Flipperboobootosis by the same bear that attacked him now in full doctor gear, when he chased him Mickey n Goofy for some honey on the sore. Yeah these are meant to be enjoyably chaotic for younger kids, maybe older ones n teens too, but normal thinking grownups see this and its some psychotic naked man on fours, or a furry. DON’T OVERTHINK THEM OLDS!

But I would like to see how far this paradox can go, push the envelope and see how disturbing it would get, with a Mickey Short of my own (*comment for a better title):

As Von Drake demonstrated his new telepods at the same science expo he showed his shrinker, Goofy and Pluto smash into a pod together, coming out the other fine at first,but in Jeff Goldblum Fly remake fashion, slowly yet humorously turn into one another. Mickey needs to return them to the pods and thru usual hapcap antics reverse their “curse” before they remain like this for life! (until the next short, these are episodic serials y’know!)

Certain key points for this short:

They only start switching body types and not voices til later; Pluto still barks even as a Dogman in Goofy’s hand-me-downs and Goofy still talks to people and even other dogs in his four-legged state, unaware how its disturbing the peace and sanity of other folks. Midpoint in the short is when they gradually become one another: Pluto speaks for real telling his mouse owner and Ludwig of the dilemma they need to fix, and as Goofy enjoys his Dog Days, he exhibits more canine instincts he can’t fully control, like chasing Peg-Leg Pete cuz he is a cat or fetching thrown things like sticks and frisbees then burrying them, leading him to the Pound at some point.

The transformations don’t need to be too graphic like the Fly remake I mentioned, but not so exaggerated where the bodies start morphing to and fro. As Pluto starts stretching awake, he begins to stand up and scratch himself with his front paw, followed by both paws becoming his hands and feet, while Goofy at some eatery drinks his water with his long tongue and his back aches only to now stand on fours on his newly formed paws, his gloves don’t fit him and takes them, his shoes and clothes off looking like a stray. Meanwhile Pluto goes to Goofy’s house and wears his clothes for the time, feeling blushed at his nudity as a Dogman, still wearing the collar.

Would it work as a real Rudish Mickey Mouse short, or should I bury the idea? save your thoughts in the comments

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Dungeons and Dragons Cartoon TV Series | D&D cast from the Brazilian car commercial

D&D cast from the Brazilian car commercial

For Nostalgia Critic Commercials series

Joan’s Parck: Laugh of Leisure (Sling_Set Sep.8.93 AC)

Plot: Haida’s Walking Wild after a spill in Benton-Night’s supply room leaves him on fours recuperating at his aunt’s place while her pet Taz Tony tries to throttle him out of top bunk.

I’ll admit to being a touch guilty for this whole episode. Ida known to get the paperclips before heading to the 3rd FL w/a cart full o’ stationery & snacks if Haida hadn’t freeclimbed the supply rack. I just assumed a feral animal broke in to the building!

Just as I heard pained howls from the 2nd FL closet, Haida was nowhere in that abyss ‘til I saw those ashy paws step in to the light w/a gnarled snout frothing and baring craggly teeth, eyes gleaming bright and furious as if I invaded its quarry. I pounced onto some boxes as I slam the door shut with my hind paw, hiding from the feral scavenger. Thanks to Tom & Jerry cartoons, I trapped that bastard! It’s amazing what a cat-and-mouse show can inspire survival tactics from an unused mop bucket and your own tail. Thank The Ol’Man I have a tail for all trades. Good Job,Slink! :3

Wasn’t after turning on the lights back on do I finally see Haida, completely nude and on fours, whining how he got the tin pail on him. I told him my sorries assuming he was a beastie in the building. No prob on his count as he hands me the box of clips on my pawlm. Just as he stood back on his hind legs to redress and we were heading back to work tho, a shooting pain erupted from behind, each step ached him to his core then back on fours once more. The lit closet showed his clothes on the floor, shoes and socks too, but why?

Ashamed, Haida confessed he clambered onto the rack barefoot getting those clips for me. Slipped out his footwear before climbing for a firmer grip on the iron tower. When he got that box on the fourth shelf, tho, he fell down on his back, just as the rack lurched towards him and a mess of hard office supplies slid down punting his lower back, then the lumbar. When he came to, his wild side musta kicked in and ripped his clothes off clean, made the closet his territory, killing anyone who would go near him.

“That rack was already unstable”, I tell him. “One leg from the set was shorter than the others, made it real top-heavy; the exceeding weight could topple the whole kitten caboodle if some dingus tried grabbing something from the upper racks like you did. There’s a reason we called it Mt. Kilamandril. The monkey that sent it conked out 14 business days after assembly. We didn’t know about the stumpy leg til after Ms. Frisk requisitioned a step ladder to the inventory so we could safely reach the upper shelves”. As I mention our HR supervisor, he was screwed. “I can’t let Aunty Mo see me like this”, he whimpered as he trodded around with an anxious smirk, chuckling in angst, tears rolling down his face. “She sees me naked on fours, she’ll knock my spots off! I’m already reprimanded for scratching my ear with my foot, I don’t want to trod back to the zoo like a common animal when I’m fired!”

He’s not wrong. Walking Wild, in New Gaean parlance, was against Benton-Night’s code of conduct. Any act of instinct or indecdency would cost you your career; you either lived like a human or stay in the woods. I was given an exception for not wearing shoes to work since my sensitive hind paws make it hard to wear heels like my twin aunt Jane, and I can use Slink as a cane when I don’t have Gene’s Spectra-Goggles for my hazy jade eyes, but while browsing the Benton-Night handbook under the Humane Resource Policies, I found a Natural Zoning policy that allowed one spot to be designated as a rec room for our animalistic sides. It was enlisted back in the early ‘70s when workers demanded these hourly breaks to “tame their inner beasts”, a means to curb hostility towards prey and predators for max cooperation, work ethics and workload ouput. Most of our staff are a mix breed of Barban and Narnian, coming from either the zoo, the adjacent park, or living in a Barban or Mobian household as a pet thru adoption licenses. Slap a halved Circene patch on their nape or chest and we’re working class citizens. Narnians would need an ID collar or chip to even get a job, much less walk around on fours in society or be pets, or carry a license to prove their condition for benefits like housing and federal aid. Some, like Ernest the Stimpyesque beaver, are Toons, hybrids born from a Mobian mating with a Narnian or Barban, their offspring come out with five digits or a non-talking animal, sad really.

In any case, I couldn’t stand seeing my coworker break down in such an undignified state. As a first year Intern under HR supervision and acting therapist for the entire Benton-Night Distributing staff, I took a vow to keep the working animal calm, cool and collected to carry on their duties, whether by talking out their pains or taking in the methods my late therapist Dr. Lau Fing implemented on me by speaking to their inner child or letting loose their beastly behavior. I just wish I didn’t have to rub his belly to calm him down offering treats if he was a good boy like aunt Jane does to her adopted daughters Rena and Fico. Embarrassing, I know. Not as awkward as seeing our red-blazened supervisor tap her heeled foot over the mess he made. He tried to stand and get his clothes back on, but his back pain was firmly established. And while she doesn’t want the rest of our staff to wild out, with Haida, she strips down and shifts to a feral stance, nipping his nape to hold him down as we head to HR. She called Dr. Shale for a house call back at the zoo’s Hyena Habitat, requesting her nephew take an off-day from work.

I was in the break room, perched like a lion on a rock, bummed I sent Haida off work I break down the moment with the current occupants partaking in their unnatural habits au naturale: Ned the squirrel opening acorns with his feet by the sink, Ernie the beaver rubbing his weird Stimpy body all over the carpeted floor, and Nora Pinoir, a papillion whose full name I already know, acting as her pet self Princess Piddle, complete with a fancy rosé rhinestone collar, marbled bowls full of mineral water and fancy wet food.

Next day, I carted my lasso-tailed ass to his aunt’s place in the habitat, and lend my best paw to help comfort my crippled coworker.

I’m thankful with some first aide from head of HR and his aunt Moira Frisk, her witchy but caring brown hyena mother Great Aunt Melia, his cousins Wiley and Marcia, and Melia’s husband/pet Pete and his son Jeik Thunderpaw. We also has a surprise visit from the hyena trio from the outskirts of the Pride Lands, Shenzi, Banzai & Ed, and other in-laws they could invite for Step-Tember at the zoo. (species in hyena habitat: 3 spotted, 1 brown, and a mutant striped hyena that’s more a giant Fluppy dog mix of Barkley, Runt & Ushio’s Tora demon w/ two bearcats). […]