Thu, 19 May 2005

Lawsuit!
“What the FUCK?”

Earlier today I was contacted by a band of unruly lawyers in the legal stables of Warner Brothers Studios, who presented me (via a one hundred and seventeen page letter) a cease-and-desist order on the use of Huey Kablooey, demolitions expert, bon vivant and gadabout. Apparently the WBS television program “Animaniacs” features a character entitled “Katie Kaboom” (actually, apparently nothing, this is how I spend most of my free time when I’m not out back working on the war cannon or selling passes on the highly-classified and officially-unacknowledged “black schoolbusses” to impressionable and dimwitted schoolchildren) who bears absolutely no resemblance to our good friend Huey, other than the name thing. Alas, I am but a poor man, and do not have the kind of legal weight to mess with the big boys, and as such I regretfully inform scrytch that from this point on, there will be no more Huey Kablooie.

“That’s just swell, Hoss, but you know perfectly well I’m not gonna take a dive before I cause a major ruckus. You do understand this, right?”

Absolutely. It’s your nature.

“Okay, first off, I got a few words I gotta say before I take my bow. First off, I wanna give a shout-out to all my homiez in the DB Child And Small Animal Army, s’pecially my man Harry The Dairyman…”

Oh, about that. I’ve actually been informed by Johnson Dairies that the name “Harry the Dairyman” is a copyrighted character of theirs, and he’ll be stepping out here just after you to take his final exit.

“Harry!”

“Can’t be a dancer when The Man owns your feet, I always say. Don’t you fear, little pumpkinhead, we’re not the only ones. There’s Bomberman, who obviously got his axe via the re-release of the actual game. And apparently Jimmy Cheerios has broken certain sub-clauses in his contract, so he’s out, i mean, it’s gonna be downright desolate.”

“But this…this cannot be! RIOT IN THE STREETS!”

“No, for this is the way of all things, and there is a logic inherent in this process, though…nah, fuck it, you’re right. Education via terror! Go go go!”

The kids sent a letter of petition against their respective companies which read “You can play your fucking song all you want — we ain’t dancin’!”

Retribution was swift and brutal.

“They reposessed my fucking legs! I went to sleep and when I woke up there was a reciept of forfeiture and a blood trail! How the fuck am I supposed to run around acting a fool with no legs, huh?”

Others were even less fortunate than Huey Kablooey: Harry the Dairyman was completely confiscated and is now in some beaurocratic limbo from which it is unlikely he’ll ever escape. In the interim, in the interests of our loyal readers, the role of Harry the Dairyman (who will hereafter be known as Harold Dryrot) will be played by Greatest American Hero star William Katt.

Hijinx are a lot harder when you no longer have the financial safety cushion of the Baulercorp. per diem to fall back on. Huey decided that since they already had his legs, that he’d be better off to let the firm take all of him (which, it should go without saying, led to his singing “all of me” while pushing himself around in a shopping cart with a broom outside the lawfirm of Anderson, Bruford, Wakeman and Howe, which was the last we’ve seen of him) and, with the exception of the members of fuck the beatles, who were touring the illustrious Gilbertville-Elk Run-Jessup circuit at the time, I’m the only one not in custody or in hiding. Something must be done.

The switchboard at ABWH, Attourneys At Law has 48 seperate phone sex lines, which is where all callers on hold are forwarded to. That’s the kind of money these people have. They’ve also discovered that nothing frustrates a potential irate caller than the instant shift from checking to see if the office door’s locked to being on the business end of a five-way conference with the fiscal assualt response team, which has brought the most delinquient of late-payment cases to fits of fear-induced urination in under two minutes. We learned all this by hanging around the lobby for half an hour, over lunch, last Monday. We also learned that Steve, the receptionist, in the 97th steve in his family, which for centuries was a family of farmers (though that kinda petered out into more menial labor once they reached America) — in fact, it was one of the earliest Steves whose swine were filled with the demons which had once possessed his neighbors Erp and Zeke, two other names which have passed through the years. Jesus happened to be in the area, and cast out the demons into Steve’s swine, which ran madly through the streets and into the sea. Jesus then whisked off with his enterouge in their boat to another land, leaving Steve’s family to eat dirt sandwiches that season. At least, this is how Steve the receptionist tells it. Some people just can’t let go of a grudge.

We can appreciate that. After all, all this lunchtime super-secret spy business isn’t just for chuckles; during this time calls have been made, arrangements are set. It’s been a while since we’ve had an old-fashioned jailbreak.
(12:09.05.19.2005) [/alpha] #