Looks like Mutts and Sherman the shark and the Melonheads (and who knows who else?) will be hitting the beach. Or the water. Or something.
Still, you have to be careful…
Or not, particularly if you have nine lives (and a little pink sock)…
Taking care of Jeffy would be great practice for you kids…
…only that Dawn ‘n’ Hugo ‘n’ Dolly ‘n’ Billy ‘n’ Jeffy ‘n’ PJ all deserve to be forced into one small watery area. For a long, long time.
…because even the Moonpie Saloon and Pizza Joint has standards, or at least closing hours. What’s a young couple to do?
…I just hope that this place doesn’t have a 90-minute limit, like some of the cheap AYCE buffets in Las Vegas! (And I do like Dawn’s derailed train of thought, too.)
…we’ll just stand by here quietly, and you can reminisce about glurgy old 60s anti-war songs.
Deep in an abandoned gold mine, Mark and Doc and Leola and JJ actually FIND a locked chest!! After Mark waylays the impertinent lock, Doc opens the chest…
…sorry, I don’t have a good intro. Just Dawn and Hugo, on a moonlight spin.
And they end up HERE?!?? I swear to heaven that the Italian (?) name of the place translates to “Moon Pie,” not so much for the accomplishment of Apollo 11 50 years ago, but for Sheldon Cooper’s nickname, given to him by his dear sweet Meemaw.
As for Dawn and her slippery tongue…just sigh.
…until she gets married?
Like….FOREVER?!??
Oh, hell, no, not if Dr. Dad has anything to say about it. It was bad enough agonizing over Brad!
I haven’t paid attention to The Phantom because it was in the midst of some storyline (I think) of a kidnapping and a villainous female despot. Maybe he’ll have a talking chimp or a fierce lioness or that strange little guy who wears a lampshade for a hat in the next one. In the meantime, I’ll just let him relax…or maybe not.
…it appears that Funky Winkerbean’s current story, with its hard-livin’, fast-shootin’ chimp Zanzibar, is going to end with a typical whimper, rather than a bang. And because we don’t see Bucky Katt too often, but that he really has monkey pegged.
In case you cared (I really didn’t), evidently Zanzibar’s owner (aka, “Father”) took him, and the two of them disappeared in the broken lights that were Hollywood failures. I thought owner and chimp should’ve toughed it out in Tinsel Town; after all, talking critters like Francis the mule, Shirley Temple, and others did have successful screen careers. Then again, Edward G. Robinson had a great agent, and it’s very likely that in any role that came up between him and Zanzibar would likely have gone to the short, squinty-eyed character.
Z. could never break that poo-flinging habit anyway…
