WALTER WINDCHILL:
Good evening to all my loyal listeners from North to South, East to West, up to down, and points in between. This is columnist Walter Windchill, the coldest man in Toontown. Brrrrr-oadcasting live on location from the tunnel entrance to Toontown.
I'm in line to go through customs.
![]() | |
Walter Windchill |
I'm in line to go through customs.
I've stopped in front of a small wooden structure painted in red
and white stripes. The windowless structure has a peaked, shingled roof, and a
small door. From the size and candy-cane color scheme, the place could be Santa's outhouse. A sign over the door reads "Customs House."
A smaller sign hanging at a crooked angle below it reads, "Stop
here. Why? Because that's the Custom."
Below that is another even crookeder sign reading, "Don't
argue with the Custom-er. He's always right!"
SOUND OF CUSTOMS HOUSE DOOR SLAMMING OPEN.
WALTER WINDCHILL:
Let me paint a word picture of what's happening here. A huge hairy hand comes out of the Customs House, followed by a
huge hairy arm, both attached to a huge hairy gorilla. In true Toontown how'd-he-ever-get-in-there-in-the-first-place?
fashion, the gorilla is twice as big as the house he came out of.
Toontown Customs Gorilla |
He wears a tan military brass-buttoned uniform. With his
pendulous, simian breasts, rolls of gut flab, and dangling arms there is no
way his uniform could be tailored to make him look snappy.
His itsy hat
covers about a third of the space between his ears. The hat curves at the
sides into a fifty mission bomber pilot style crush.
CUSTOMS GORILLA:
Anything to declare?
Anything to declare?
CUSTOMS GORILLA:
Anything you got that's serious. This is Toontown, buddy. No
seriousness allowed in Toontown. Whatever doesn't get a yuck, doesn't come in
I had a guy come through here yesterday. Private eye named Eddie Valiant. He was bringing in a sawed-off twelve gauge
shotgun, a Thompson submachine gun with a circular snare drum clip, a couple of handguns,
silencers, a few hand grenades, cosh, sap, billy, cudgel, rubber hose, and
bastinado. Well I gotta tell you. Ain’t
none of that the least bit funny.
WALTER WINDCHILL:
How true.
CUSTOMS GORILLA:
I confiscated what he had and replaced it with stuff that's
Toontown appropriate. I gave him a machine
gun that shoots ping pong balls. When he pulls the trigger on his new shotgun, a
little flag comes out that says "BANG." The cosh, sap, billy, and
cudgel I replaced with duplicates made of soft rubber. I let him keep the
rubber hose except now there’s a spigot screwed onto one end that constantly drips
water. I swapped his handguns for a dart gun, a cap pistol, and a cardboard gun
that shoots rubber bands. Instead of hand grenades he got two fourth of July
sparklers and three skyrockets.
WALTER WINDCHILL:
Bad guys will die laughing when they get a load of that
arsenal.
CUSTOMS GORILLA:
That’s the whole idea!
This is Toontown.
SOUND OF GORILLA BREAKING INTO HUGE GRIN THAT EXPOSES A ROW
OF YELLOW TEETH THE SIZE OF HOUSE SHINGLES.
SQEAKY SOUND OF GORILLA OPENING THE TOONTOWN GATE.
CUSTOMS GORILLA:
Welcome to Toontown, friend. Come on in and have some fun!
No comments:
Post a Comment