The Disney Afternoon: #2, Part 2

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By Ellie, February 26, 2010 11:17 pm

It’s Friday night, and I’ve been busy, just a little dizzy, bringing you a Disney Afternoon comic installment. I’ve got spills, I’ve got thrills and more–more, more, MORE! So you better like it!

Last week, we left our fashionably-dressed hero trapped in a device created by the unfortunately named Dr. Anna Matronic, who is quite possibly one of the worst villains, I’d ever seen in a kiddie comic. The ill-fitting device is none other than a mind-controlling helmet that will render Darkwing helpless to the commands of his ineffectual foe once he’s fallen asleep. As part of her dastardly plan, Dr. Matronic had her robo-hounds committing breakins around St. Canard, thus running Darkwind ragged. With sleep gently tugging at the caped crimefighter’s eyelids, it won’t be long until DW meets his doom.

But first, some lighthearted frolic…


Either that’s one bizarre curvature of the spine or she’s just bootylicious.

Gadget Hackwrench (AKA the only Rescue Ranger that fans really, truly, obsessively like) is showing off her inventions to Professor Sniffsnout, one of the scientists on the judging committee for the All-City Technology Competition. Look closely and you’ll see a puff-topped tail on the professor. That’s right, she’s a poodle. A damn poodle in the Rescue Ranger headquarters. Which is in a tree. Which fits the smallest of creatures, like mice, chipmunks, and flies. A fucking poodle. And don’t tell me she’s one of those teacup dogs that old biddies love to collect like Precious Moments figurines.

Anywhoodle, Sniffsnout is quite bored with Gadget’s inventions, disparagingly describing them as “cute” and saying that her fellow scientists will “get quite a giggle out of [Gadget's] tinkerings.” Naturally, Chip is offended that someone would insult his unrequited love interest’s works.

“HOLD IT!” he screams unnecessarily. “What about Gadget’s invisibility machine?” True to her stuffy scientist training, Sniffsnout doesn’t believe that such a thing is possible. Chip invites her into the kitchen where they begin gathering supplies to create Gadget’s wondrous machine.

First a tureen, which is nothing more than an acorn. Then some of Monty’s Limburger cheese sauce. I’m sure ol’ Monty won’t mind. He can always head down to the alley to his cheese dealer and get another shipment–after he’s murdered everyone in a junkie rage.

Then Chip adds some garlic cloves and baby onions. But now he has to touch the “pot” to the ceiling. He innocently wonders aloud how he can ever do that. Professor Sniffsnout, ironically asking if Chip himself is dim, offers to perform the incredible feat. Now all she has to do is turn the pot over and…

Wow! I’m amazed! A pompous, arrogant, educated elitist hoisted by her own petard in an incredibly see-through scheme!

“How can I report to the other scientists like this?” Sniffsnout rages as she stomps away from the headquarters. A brilliant scientist such as yourself can’t go home to take a shower?

Gadget and Chip watch on from the doorway. Gadget thanks Chips, but he shouldn’t have lied. That wasn’t an invisiblity machine, after all.

“Sure it was!” Chip says. “It made Sniffsnout disappear, didn’t it?”

No, Chip, you just made her go away–and stink to high heaven and beyond. Stop trying to be clever. By the way, you’re nowhere closer to getting into Gadget’s jumpsuit.

Let’s get on over to St. Canard and see how DW’s doing.

Not that well. Either Dr. Matronic must have lined the inside of that helmet with Crazy Glue, or the sheer size of Darkwing’s brain created a vacuum. Whatever the cause, that thing isn’t coming off. What else could our heroes do?

DW tries a device that emits a signal strong enough to interfere with Dr. Matronic’s remote signal. It should render the mind-control helmet useless. The signal is pitched so high, only dogs can hear it.

Left no with other option, DW orders Launchpad and Gos to tie him to his bed. (Suddenly I feel the force of a million fangirls shuddering in ecstasy. Brr.) “Without my body, Matronic can’t have my mind!” he reasons. Sounds like a failproof plan. I don’t see how it could possibly go wrong, except, say, Matronic finds out where he lives using some sort of tracking device that’s in the helmet.

Anyway, with DW incapacitated, Gos gets her chance to watch the Senseless Gore & Violence Film Festival on the eleven o’clock movie: Body Count 2000. Reminds me when I used to stay up watching Saturday Night Live–you know, back when it was good. (Mine’s the Bad Boy Era featuring Farley, Spade, Sandler, and Schneider. What’s yours?)

CRASH! Holy crap, what was that? Did DW fall out of the bed? That was some pretty flimsy ropework if that’s the case. But it’s something far more worse…


How the hell did they fit the bed through that window?

I’d worry more about the fact that Dr. Matronic found Drake Mallard’s residence. I think outright destroying her instead of locking her up is a surefire way to eliminate this problem in the future. But my ideas are far too violent for a kiddie comic such as this.

“We’ve got to get him back!” Gos cries obviously. But Launchpad ixnays that: “Drake would never forgive me if I brought you along.” So he hops into the Rat Catcher (DW parked it at his civilian home?) with the declaration that he won’t let anything happen to his best friend and the only person in the Disney universe who will ever put him on a payroll.

But ho ho, dear reader, Launchpad is going to get some much needed assistance after all…


Bless you, you little rule-breaking, snot-beaked rebel. Bless you.

Soon, we’re in Dr. Matronic’s high-rise apartment or wherever the hell she keeps her top secret science-y crap. “Forget the promised crime spree, Darkwing,” she says. “I’ve decided to get rid of you! With you out of way, I can do whatever I want and no one can stop me!”

See anything wrong with that sentence? I see three: 1) Why did she suddenly decide to not make DW go on a fantastic crime spree? That would have made up for the uninspired first part. Is Dr. Matronic indecisive? What’s she like in different scenarios? “I’ll have fries. No, forget the fries, I’ll have tater tots!” “Let’s go with the powder blue satin finish. No, forget that shade, my living room needs to be fuschia!” “I do. No, forget matrimony!” 2) “With you out of way.” I can take lazy coloring in a cheap comic, but grammatical errors in a professional publication really grates my cheese. 3) “No one cane stop me!” Is DW the only law enforcement in St. Canard, or has Dr. Matronic never heard of the police?

With Darkwing completely under her control, Dr. Matronic commands him to step out of a window and “plummet to your doom“… in a totally nonchalant way.


What an inspiring gesture. Just sends shivers of fear down my spine.

Launchpad comes running in, screaming for DW to snap out of it. DW mutters something about breakfast, and Dr. Matronic breaks into song: Rock-a-bye Darkwing/My little mind slave/Lis-ten to my voice/Just ig-nore that knave. Sure enough, the nursery rhyme lulls Darkwing right back to sleep–on top of a pillow with a blanket, no less.

Dr. Matronic sics Robo-1, one of her robo-hounds, on Launchpad. The bulky, dim-brained duck grabs the nearest device and shoves it into the metal mutt’s maw. And believe it or not, this action electrocutes the robo-hound and dismantles it in the next panel. What the hell did LP pick up? A mega-remote that fries circuits and loosens bolts? If so, I want one. I have an enemy whose car needs a little fixing up.

With Launchpad suddenly out of action, Dr. Matronic sings another verse: Sleep-walk to the window/This building’s so tall–/Take my troubles with you/When out you fall…

Darkwing is right on the balcony ledge, just inches away from certain doom… clutching a pillow to his sleeping nogging, natch. The obituary writer for the paper is really going to have a ball with this one. As the clocktower bongs in the midnight hour, who should come in but our favorite stowaway?

Gos blows a whistle–the same whistle Drake used to rudely wake her up in part one. This comic may be corny as all hell, but at least the writer had some knowledge of Chekov’s Rule: If a whistle appears in part one of the story, then it needs to appear at a critical time near the very end of the story. Or something like that.

Dr. Matronic seizes Gos, but she won’t let up. She screams for Darkwing to wake up, but he just talks in his sleep. He’s just inches away from certain doom…

Finally, he wakes up, just as he falls over the edge. “Twelve o’clock?! Gosalyn! It is way past your bedtime! What are you still doing… up?”

Quite a lot to say as you’re falling to your doom, huh? By the way, the clocktower rang eight times on the whole page, even if its face did say 12 o’clock. Crappy clocktower or poor page planning? You make the call.

As Gos cries for the loss of her adoptive father, Dr. Matronic cackles with glee. “HA HA HA! At last! Darkwing Duck sleeps eternal!” Which is a really overwrought line that a lame-ass villain like Dr. Matronic really shouldn’t say. I sure hope the writers saved these lines for Negaduck or some other, better villain.

But wait! DW’s alive! And why wouldn’t he be?! He snatches the remote from Dr. Matronic and smashes it on the street below.


Oh, shut the hell up, you half-bit stock villain.

Dr. Matronic has had it! “Fetch with extreme prejudice!” she screams lamely at her two remaining robo-hounds. The mutts launch themselves at a woozy Darkwing, who slumps down to get some much needed rest. Totally missing their target, the robo-hounds go sailing over the balcony. “MY PUPPIES! NO!” Dr. Matronic shrieks, thus securing herself a spot on my People Who Need to Be Burned for Fuel list.

I mean, what self-respecting villain out for blood is going to scream like a banshee about her easily repaired mecha-mutts falling from a high-rise building? Moreover, what fearsome villain is going to call said mecha-mutts “puppies”? Ugh, she reminds me of every middle-aged woman who insists on calling their dog a puppy, no matter how fucking old they are. It doesn’t keep them young, you dumb bitches. Argh.

Yes, I’m assuming those robo-hounds are easily repairable because this is a comic based on a cartoon. Don’t argue with me!

Look at that. She isn’t even putting up a fight. You fail, Dr. Matronic. Cripes, I’d rather see the ineffectual Phantasmic Four again. At least they were fun.

Whee-hee… two issues in. Cripes, it feels like it’s been a month since I’ve started this. Next week, it’s part one of issue #3, crammed with more Flapping Terror than you can possibly fit in your mouth.

Fine, you come up with a better hook. Stay tooned, scuzzbags!

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Hack Cough Sniffle Hack

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By Ellie, February 23, 2010 12:11 pm

I didn’t think a nose could get so flaky and red from all those tissues. Screw you, Kleenex.

What was first believed to be allergies turned out to be a fantastically mind-banging combination of nasal congestion and fatigue. That’s right, folks. I’m sick. While I’m able to move around, hold mundane conversations, and go to my job, my brain just doesn’t want to put any effort into being snarky. Just reading light literature makes my cerebral cortex want to curl up into the fetal position… which would be pretty awesome to see, actually.

So no update today (or midnight on Wednesday mornings, as it really has been). I’ll probably have this thing beat by tomorrow, but if not, you can expect a post no later than Friday night.

Now I gotta get my aching bones out of bed.

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The Disney Afternoon: #2, Part 1

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By Ellie, February 17, 2010 12:21 am

Looking at the clock on the wall… hey, where’d it go? Could have sworn we hung it back up after taking down the Christmas decorations. Anyway, it’s time for another Disney Afternoon comic installment!

It seemed like only two weeks ago when I was reviewing the first “fun-filled” issue. My, how time drags on. It’s my pleasure to finally get to the second issue, sure to be even more fun-filled, hilarious, and wackier than the first!


Get used to seeing this duck. He’s an obvious favorite.

You think I should start mentioning the titles of these stories? I think I should, because there won’t always be times when I’ll post an image of the first panel… like now. The first story is Sleep Ducking! Part I. Yes, it’s a two-parter, and it feels a little too early in the series for multi-part adventures.

Anywhoodle, our first story opens in front of the Canard Bank in St. Canard. The city is strangely empty for the most part, save for the typical Disney anthro-dog and a suspiciously human looking lady who appears to be pregnant. Or maybe she just likes fat-free cookies and diet sodas. They’re actually supposed to be more fattening than the regular stuff, you know.

I’m not going to show you a picture of her, because our Villain of the Day is going to get plenty of scans…

You’re not imagining things, and it’s not an artist’s fluke. It is, however, a big mistake. It’s been years since I’ve watched any of the Disney Afternoon cartoons (save for Bonkers eps on YouTube), but I recall only one episode where there was a human in a Darkwing Duck ep. I think he was an alien or a superhero. The point is that ducks, anthropomorphic dogs, and the occasional feline were the only human-like characters in the DW universe. They replaced humans in the cartoon. Why the hell are humans making a regular appearance in the comics?

Before my brain starts to melt from fan rage, let’s meet this Villain of the Day, shall we? Dr. Anna Matronic *waits for the groans to die down* is getting some funds for some dastardly project of hers. Why else would a villain need to rob a bank? None of them ever want to send a cold million to their destitute mothers.

She wants all the money, “or my robo-hounds here will teach you the all too painful meaning of chew toy!” Just as the frightened teller stuffs a money bag with a stack of money, our Fearless Hero swoops in to save the day.

“Not after I, the caped crusader, capturer of canines, teach those scrap hounds to roll over and play rust bucket!” DW’s lines are always full of win, no matter how punny they are.

Of course, Dr. Matronic has to ruin the good fuzzy feelings by commenting that “every program has a glitch!” Yes, be prepared for lots of computer and programming puns.

And just how is the Caped Crusader going to put an end to Dr. Matronics heist? What kind of kick-ass gadgets are we going to see this time? I hope it’s a ray gun! Please say ray gun!

Seriously?

Okay, I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt. Those are robo-hounds, after all. So Launchpad unscrews the fire hydrant, turning the hose into a weapon of mass drenching.

Bad move. The dogs are waterproof, and had been since a previous heist. What kind of a mad scientist would program a fish-fetching function in a robo-hound anyway? Besides one with absolutely no common sense? (Was that a rare fish she needed or something? I mean, why would you need a fish?)

Also, the cop’s and teller’s species changed in one page. If there’s one positive thing I can say about this series so far is that it never fails to surprise me.

Incapable of doing something as simple as letting go of a frickin’ hose, Darkwing continues to fly about the bank, spraying open bags of money and just generally causing chaos. “Time to abort this program, my little pups,” says Dr. Matronic as she just stands under the spray, holding her dogs’ leashes. I assume she made a very calm getaway, and even paused for a few minutes so her dogs could drop a few bolts, if you get my drift.

Meanwhile, people run all over the bank, reveling in the literal shower of dollar bills. “Free money!” one of them screams. I don’t know much about banks, except that their savings interest rates suck, but wouldn’t the money that came from the bank vault still be the bank’s property until it leaves the premises? What the hell is Mr. Money screaming about?

Later, at the Mallard residence, Drake is watching the news about the bank incident. The reporter calls Dr. Matronic Madam Anna Matronic, which is kind of odd. The teller confirms the reporter’s question that, yes, the villain did leave behind the money, but they’re still peeling it off the ceiling. “Ingrate,” Drake mutters.

Hey, hey! Gosalyn makes her appearance, much to Drake’s irritation. It’s way past her bedtime, but Gos doesn’t want to hear it. The Eleven O’Clock Movie is having a senseless gore and violence, and she’s gotta watch it!

Now we’re getting a little closer to the original source. This was one of the reasons why I liked the show. Even if they weren’t related by blood, Drake/DW and Gos had a real father-and-daughter dynamic that brought color and life into what was a parody of the superhero/vigilante genre. The writers could have made Gos a typical child sidekick, but they went a step further and had Drake/DW enroll her in school, order her to finish her dinner, and be a general pain in her feathery butt.

I wonder how long this will keep up in the Marvel comics?

Cue the ominous music as we check in on the diabolical Dr. Matronic in her high-rise apartment/lab. What could this terrible, twisted femme be plotting now? What horrible thoughts are crawling through her dark, genius mind?

“Darkwing Duck never lets me do anything! Every time I’m on the cusp of achieving brilliance, he shows up and deletes my prospects!”

*sigh* While she whines away, her “hapless assistant, Roy,” is being fitted with a funky helmet. He honestly looks like one of the Devo guys, only without the humorous charm. As if that weren’t humiliating enough, he’s being ordered to shove a cream pie into his face.

See, the embarrassing head gear is a mind control device that Dr. Matronic hopes to use on DW in some nefarious way. She just has to get this dumpy teen to shove that slapsticky dessert in his acne-scarred face. But not even the promise of five bucks can entice him.


That’s the biggest, most elaborate cream pie I’ve ever seen.

Since Dr. Matronic doesn’t have the funds from the aborted bank heist, she can’t built a helmet “powerful enough to control a defiant mind.” So she spends the next several minutes/hours/who the hell cares looking for something called an aranda meter. Meanwhile, Roy is falling asleep, still holding the cream pie/cake in his hands.

Finally, Dr. Matronic finds the blasted aranda meter. “Naughty me!” she says stupidly. “I should command Roy to smash that cake into my face for not putting away my toys.”

“As you command…” Roy mumbles.

SPLAF!

With a face full of cake, Dr. Matronic comes to a startling conclusion: her life is a lie and she should have gone to sports mascot school. Okay, she doesn’t, but it would have been a funnier outcome. The aranda meter indicates that her lackey’s sleeping mind is more susceptible to commands.

Now she’s getting somewhere…

And now for the obligatory whole page scan, because I just love this one and my words can’t do it justice.

Gos is such a twerp. And that’s why we all love her.

Darkwing runs into action. That’s right, there’s no Rat Catcher, so our hero must arrive at the scene of the crime a-huffin’ and a-puffin’ to the incredibly dull and uninteresting Hamburger Hippo.


Hamburger Hippo: check out our exciting franchising opportunities!

But DW’s too late. Drat! The human owner didn’t get a good look at him, but he did note that the culprit wore “a fashionable trench coat with a keenly matching hat!” A radio nearby reports that Art’s Deli is being robbed by the same guy… but the deli is on the other side of town. So DW rushes over to the deli, only to find that the crook is missing, but he was still fabulously dressed while on his way to Burrito Bell. On the other side of town.

So it’s like that for a few panels. DW arrives at the scene of the crime, but the fashion-minded felon has gone off. If I had known what kind of race I was in for, I would have brought the Rat Catcher in the first place! Why didn’t you bring it anyway, dingbat?

Since all this running around is making me tired, let’s get to the bottom of this mystery, shall we? Who could possibly be running DW ragged? Who could it be? WHOOOOO?!


Don’t tell me you didn’t expect this.

Part one of Dr. Matronic’s plan is complete. Wearing out DW so he could be apprehended by her mangy mecha-mutts worked perfectly! Now to plop that horrendous helmet onto his head! Now just to wait for him to fall asleep…

Why do villains always give away their plans as soon as they leave the hero? Why is this cliché still alive? Why are there so many goddamn humans in what’s supposed to be a human-free city? Why why why?!

Well, you just gotta hold onto your butt cheeks, because the answers to these questions–and more–will just have to be answered in next week’s installment!* Stay tooned, kiddies!

*Spoiler: They’re never answered.

categories Disney Afternoon Comics | tags ,

The Disney Afternoon: #1, Part 2

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By Ellie, February 10, 2010 12:01 am

Hey, dudes and dudettes! Turn up your beat boxes, put on your parachute pants, and get ready to have a radical time as we head back to the 90s and revisit The Disney Afternoon comics! * Radical times not guaranteed.

Last week, in part one, we explored the fascinating scenario of the Phantasmic Four being stripped of everything that made them sinister and fun, rendering them sensitive to the mere suggestion that they were starving. Seriously. Then we took a short trip to Spoonerville and witnessed Goofy score one for loveable schmucks everywhere as he ruined Pete’s paint job. It was quite an improvement, I’ll say.

Now we head into another tailspin as we visit our good buddy, pilot extraordinaire, perpetually-in-debt Baloo and his passenger of the day, Molly Cunningham.

Today’s cargo is bubble gum, made fresh in Gumbeaux, the Bubble Gum Capital of the World, and one of my top five places to relocate to from Disappointment, North Carolina. And it’s such a relief, knowing that I won’t be the only human resident in an anthropomorphic population, if the card above is any proof. (And that’s not the only example of humans existing in TDA comics.)

Why Baloo has to have Molly along, it’s never explained, and I can’t remember too much of the show to remember if he had to occasionally babysit her or what. I’m going with “on the clock babysitting without pay,” but it seems just so Becky Cunningham. But Baloo actually likes Molly, so I don’t see why he’d mind.

“Here we are, Molly!” enthuses Baloo. “Got your choppers ready for a bit of the ol’ bubbly?” First of all, bubbly is slang for champagne. I see bubbly = bubble gum, but that’s just a weird thing to call a candy, especially when talking to a little kid. (Plus, I got this weird image of Baloo biting down on solid champagne.)

Molly doesn’t say one way or the other if she or her choppers are ready for bubble gum. She just asks Baloo if the people of Gumbeaux always give him free gum. Baloo tells her that they do: “They love me here Why, every time I pick up cargo they say–”

“You again! Back to make more trouble?”

Yep, the cargo lady isn’t too happy with Baloo. Seems Papa Bear dissed the Gumbeaux king and really got on the natives’ nerves. He apologized for the whole mess, but the cargo lady isn’t going to let him have his shipment.

“Uh, trouble in paradise, Molly! Just stay put while I see what’s what!” Second of all, the phrase trouble in paradise implies that two romantic partners are having… trouble. Maybe even a falling out. Third of all, Baloo, you know “what’s what.” You pissed off the citizens of Gumbeaux and they’re denying you your shipment out of childish retaliation. I’m beginning to really dislike this installment.

Molly, being the unusually well-behaved child she is, plays with her dolly while singing nursery rhymes. If there’s anything I learned from writing/editing books (but not from any of my college writing courses, strangely enough), is that every story needs conflict. And since the troubles of mail delivery is less than enthralling to kids, why don’t we try a cute little bat that spits gum? How Disney-esque!

Molly tells the adorable beastie that she isn’t allowed to play with monsters… but she’ll make an exception because… well, look at it. Wouldn’t you want to play with something so cuddly and squeezable and goddamn I just wanna crush that thing in a deadly hug of doom!

Fortunately, Molly has more control and settles for playing hopscotch with the little spitter. Why she’d think about Godzilla jumping rope is anyone’s guess. It’s also anyone else’s guess if the Tailspin universe was aware of Godzilla. The cartoon did have parodies and references to actual people from the 30s, but… maybe I should get the DVDs and find out for myself.

Baloo’s coming back, and boy, is he pissed. “… and the same to you, lady! Hmph!” Yeah, that’s telling her, Papa Bear.

Molly knows it’s time to go, but she’s not going to say good-bye to her new friend. Using little kid logic, she believes that her mother will be thrilled to have a gum-spitting bat in their home.


I think she’ll scream in womanly terror.

Baloo comes back onto the dock, huffing and mumbling about how the “gofers must take la-di-da lessons,” whatever the hell that means. Before Molly can tell him about her amazing discovery, Baloo notices something very wrong.


Damn, Baloo, you talk so crazy.

“That flippin’ tail flap’s flopped down again!” Baloo cries as he sees the flopped tail flap of the Sea Duck. Fortunately, he’s got just the tools to fix the problem in two shakes. (He doesn’t say “of a lamb’s tail,” either, he just says “shakes.” Did Baloo always make no sense? Maybe I should click over to YouTube after I’m done…)


“Maybe if I just randomly rivet this plate into place…”

Now the Sea Duck is ready to fly again. Little Molly zonks out from all the excitement. How precious. It’ll be a silent flight for the most part, so Baloo lowers the radio and settles in for an easy…



What the… did the bat spit into his mouth?!

At least we now know the creature’s real name. Baloo needs to get the beastie under control or Molly could get hurt. Never mind what disaster a wild creature flying about the cockpit could cause. What ensues is a very short chase where Baloo gets spit in the face again. Fortunately, he doesn’t get any in his mouth. Who knows what germs a Gumby Booger Butt Bat carries?


Baloo, your credit’s already been blown to hell.Do you really want to trust a mangy bat with it?

All that running around and those empty promises pays off. The bat’s in the bag and almost out the window…


“Look for the bear necessities of death, you little monster!”
(Okay, so he wasn’t going to kill it. Shut up.)

Molly finally wakes up. With all that screaming (and singing), I’m surprised she didn’t earlier. But she pleads with Papa Bear to spare her pet. “This pest’s no pet!” says Baloo. “He’s a consarned, dad-gummed, dingbusted so-and-so!” Harsh.

Just then, a terrible CREAK rips through the air. What could it possibly be…

It’s the freakin’, flippin’, friggin’, fraggin’ tail flap! It’s flopped again! OH NO THEY’RE DOOOOOMED!!!

Molly knows it. The Bumbling Beeble Bat knows it. But Baloo puts on a brave face and stutteringly asks Molly if she’d like to sing a song to pass the time. Good idea. The next time I’m on a plane and there’s a high risk of crashing into the ocean, I’m gonna to sing “Buttons” by the Pussycat Dolls. I’m gonna get my whole fucking row to join in, and that fat guy who’s on every flight will sing the second verse.

Baloo’s selection, though, is “99 Bottles of Pop,” because this is a kid’s comic. As Molly begins to sing, the Frumpy Burping Bat spits on Baloo. This gives Baloo an idea. No, it isn’t strangling the annoying thing with its own bubble-icious spit:


So bubble gum seals the hinges but a riveted plate does nothing?

Apparently bubble gum is like duct tape in the Disney universe. But if it’s strong enough to hold together a tail flap, then wouldn’t Baloo’s mouth be gummed shut? What about when he wiped the gum off his face? Wouldn’t his hand still be stuck to his face? Wouldn’t the fur have come off?

I’m not even going to ask how Baloo is managing to stay on the tail despite the plane still being in motion.

Our heroes make it back to Cape Suzette, safe and sound. Naturally, Becky’s disgusted by the adorable Gumbling Soup Sucking Bean Bat. It doesn’t matter to her that the little guy saved her daughter, her cargo, and the dumb babbling bear who’s making less and less sense with each panel.

What song about a kid and a… ugh. At this point, I want to spit on Baloo, too. Good going, Gumming Buggering Boozle Bake Bat. Good going.

But we’re not finished yet! There are plenty of more laughs ahead as we visit the wackiest Disney toon ever to leap out from the animation board: Bonkers D. Bobcat!


…

That’s it?

Don’t get me wrong, it was cute… but what about Lucky or Miranda? What about totally insane former toon stars trying to raise hell in Hollywood? What about the ridiculously stereotypical one-sided romance between Bonkers and Fawn Deer? What about the endless exploration into Toon Physics and the cynical man who learns to love and use them?

Unfortunately, this is about par for other people’s treatment of Bonkers. He doesn’t get a lot of love outside the tragically small fandom and the mid-90s Disney Adventures magazine. Leaves me all bitter inside.

That’s it for the first issue, folks. Tune in next week when I’ll have part one of issue two up and ready–maybe even before midnight!

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The Disney Afternoon: #1, Part 1

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By Ellie, February 3, 2010 1:36 am

Welcome, welcome, welcome, gals and guys to the first installment of The Disney Afternoon comics, published by Marvel Comics from 1994 to 1995. Yes, such a short run for what could have been a fantastic series, but as you’ll soon see, it was probably very wise of some executive to bring down the ax.

I was the tender age of 12 when this series came out, so I was the target audience. Preteen Ellie might have been thrilled with all the wacky hijinx and daring goings-on simply because they included some of her favorite characters. But she would have been sorely disappointed in the way one character got shafted. You’ll see in part two of this article.


It says fun-filled, but I’m not optimistic.

We open the first issue to the legendary terror that flaps in the night as he prides himself on being St. Canard’s savior of slumber. If there’s anything Darkwing is famous for–besides crime fighting and an impeccable taste in fashion, of course–it’s his galaxy-sized ego.

Strangely, Launchpad is no where to be seen, as he is probably repairing the last craft he crashed. But our favorite plucky tomboy, Gosalyn Mallard, is by DW’s side, as snarky and petulant as ever.

DW gets onto Gos for calling him “Dad” while he’s in costume. Gos says that they’re in his “ultra-super-secret headquarters” if you can call one of the St. Canard towers ultra-super-secret. DW reprimands Gos once again, who just pouts: “Aw… What good is a juicy secret if you hafta keep it secret?” Everything, you ignorant dink.

It’s been years since I’ve watched the show, so I can’t really remember too much of Gos’s personality, though a reliable source (AKA my husband) tells me that Gos was pretty bratty and prided herself on being the adopted daughter of a masked hero. He says she was probably just funning DW, but her expression here says otherwise:


Petulant Snot Mode activated.

Anywhoodle, DW goes on about how privacy is important–no, necessary–to the survival and well-being of heroes and their families. Why, if every hero had their secret identity revealed, they’d be spending the rest of their days swatting away raving fans. And knowing how the Darkwing Duck fanbase fared among the fangirls, I can understand DW’s concern.

Just then, a helicopter flies up to the tower. Special delivery! But why would Darkwing have something sent to the headquarters and not his suburban home? Is it something the neighbors shouldn’t know about?


FredEx: When you absolutely need to have Disney Princess porn
discreetely delivered to your secret hideout.

Thing is, Darkwing doesn’t even know what it is. He didn’t order anything. And when he shakes the box, it makes a funny sound. HEEE HEEE HEEE. That wasn’t me being deliberately lame. The box actually makes that sound.

DW thinks they should detonate it from a distance. Wise choice, my man. That’s what I do with all the letters from churches advertising their holy get-togethers. But Gos, being Gos, tears right into the package. And what does she find?

  • A canister of peanuts (DW: “Well, whoever sent this certainly knows my weakness!”)
  • A jug of water (Gos: “This looks like plain water! But I guess that goes with peanuts!”)
  • A flowerpot full of dirt (Gos says the exact same thing)
  • A light bulb (DW: “Hmmm… This should give me an idea…”)
  • And a mirror (gets no comment)

Our heroes are baffled. Darkwing sets a fist on a tabletop muttering about how there MUST be a clue in the package somewhere. There must be!

Water. Dirt. Light bulb. Peanuts. Mirror. GO EVIL!

By their oddness combined they are THE PHANTASMIC FOUR!

And here’s our first evildoer, straight from the peanut gallery: Quackerjack!


Can you spot the inappropriate touch?

Next up is my personal favorite, that head-bangingly, teeth-gnashingly obnoxious shill: The Liquidator!

After a long dirt nap, he’s turned over a new leaf–say hello to Dr. Bushroot!


Would it have been that hard to make sure DW was the correct color?

And he’ll put the spark back in your life: Megavolt!


Don’t mind the Liquidator. He’s just weird like that.

You done with the puns? So am I. Ugh.

But we’re not through yet. Someone had to bring these frazzled felons together and organize the hell out of them. Because, let’s face it, these four clashed constantly, and they needed some sort of glue to keep them focused on their task of destroying Darkwing Duck…


EEEEVVVVIIIIIIIILLLLLL!

Negaduck! Possibly one of Disney’s most popular, most evil characters ever. And a renewable source of fetish fuel, if that mind-scarring fanart was any indication. (No, don’t ask me where to find it. You don’t want to see it.)

Darkwing is outraged! How could his arch-nemesis discover his super-duper-ultra-mega top secret hideaway? It’s only the most top secret thing, right behind the Kentucky Fried Chicken seven herb recipe. Not as highly desired, but it’s still pretty damn secret. Or it used to be, before Negaduck started hanging around the schoolyard and eavesdropping on a certain girl… which, these days, would land him in prison quicker than he can blink.

What dastardly plan do these five have for our not-at-the-moment intrepid hero and his adopted tax deduction? A sinister scheme which Negaduck refers to as “Plan W,” which involves the Four scattering to the four corners of the hideout, with Bushroot quickly returning to scatter seeds at DW and Gos’s feet while the Liquidator rains himself all over them. “Think it’ll rain, beau?” he asks.

Even for the Liquidator, that’s pretty damn lame.

But, oh–horrors!

I posted the whole page, because this can only be appreciated in all its dumbness. I mean, a fucking bush? Okay, there are thorns on those branches… but a fucking bush? C’mon! This is the Phantasmic Four, led by Negaduck. There should be more deadly awesomeness involved here! Didn’t the writer watch any of the cartoons?

The Liquidator’s comment about real estate gets a grimace, considering the state of the housing market these days. (That’s what we Tropers like to call a Funny Aneurysm Moment.)

Also, I love how Bushroot looks like he’s going gay for Negaduck. He sprouts a little heart and everything!

Despite the incredibly shoddy trap, Darkwing and Gos are hopelessly stuck. Guess they’re afraid of a few scratches and rips in their clothes. Nevertheless, DW has a plan, and it calls for “subtlety.”

He yells that he and his kid can’t be left alone in the bush–they’ll starve! Gos gets into the act, screaming that she gets hyper when she doesn’t eat. Naturally, the villains take delight in this. It just makes me cringe, because I know that something really stupid is going to happen.

DW laments how they’ll waste away, just mere feet away from a fridge just packed with all sorts of goodies.

The Four spaz out at hearing this. What villain doesn’t enjoy a tasty treat every now and again? But the way they’re reacting, you’d think that they hadn’t eaten in days. (Well, Megavolt only had juice that morning, but that doesn’t excuse his suddenly wimpy ass… Wait, juice? Oh, hell, I just got it.)

Then DW recites a list of all the wonderful edible delights just waiting to be devoured. Since I’m in a wall of text kind of mood, I’ll list ‘em all: pate de frog grass, gnu stew with truffles, stuffed mongoose with all the trimmings, pickled persimmons, raspberry cream torte, enriched mono and di-glycerides, marinated mango parfait, eel en brochette, cold pimento pizza, marshmallow surprise delight, barbecued blowfish… damn, now I’m craving popcorn ice cream with a side of clams.

The Four must be on some sort of starvation diet, because they totally ignore their wise leader’s demands that they leave the fridge alone. No such luck, Negs. There’s probably some newt bladder pudding to be eaten. But just as Negs starts to get through to his minions, DW agrees with him. “Maybe he’s right, guys, it might be a bad idea to open the fridge!”

Like a typical two-bit villain, Negaduck falls for it. “Stop that! How dare you say the same thing as me??!!” He’s got a point; it’s not often that a mirror version of you from an alternate dimension would say the same thing. Enraged by this, Negaduck tells his henchmen to open the fridge…

I know it was done for laughs–I’m guessing–but would Darkwing actually let his fridge get that bad?

With the villains so originally disposed of, Darkwing produces a pair of hedge clippers and snips himself and Gos out of their botanical prison. When Gos asks why he didn’t free them earlier, his response his quite simple: “Two birds in the bush are worth more than in the hands of those clowns!” Such wisdom.

Gos gets the Burperware containers (GET IT?) and DW shovels all the crap into them. With everyone nicely sealed away, DW throws the containers into the package, writes “Return to Sender” on the side, and chucks it into a mailbox, conveniently located inside the hideout.

With that, I leave you this final image, because I can’t think of another way to wrap up this first story:

Hyuk!

Speaking of which, here’s a shortie, presented in all its one-page entirety:

It doesn’t surprise me that Pete might have kids just so he could sit on his morbidly obese ass all day and think of ways to scam people into buying his crappy cars–though in the cartoon, he actually pushed PJ into doing most of the chores while Pistol was spoiled endlessly. Still, it makes it all sweeter when Goofy does him in… in his adorably ignorant way, of course.

That’s all for this installment. Tune in next Tuesday for part two, which will be uploaded on time, dammit.

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