All language subtitles for Sex In The Comics

CARTOON FESTIVAL I come, Josephine,
in my walking machine.

It's in, it goes.

Come, Josephine, it tickles and tickles...

Now at last, one need not sit on a broken
folding chair in a shabby smoke-filled

back room, squinting at a flickering
eight-millimeter image on a dirty

semen-stained bed sheet, to see animated
erotic cartoons.

Hi, I'm Francine the Funny Freak.

They call me that because I'm just cracked
up about the comics.

I get juicy over the jokes.

You all remember those little comic books
you used to pass around at junior high?

You know, the ones that probably first
told you the ways of a man and a maid?

Well, now they're animated, double-gated,
pussy-baited, and X-rated.

If you are 18 years of age, you can sit in
the comfort of this theater and see and

hear the cream of the classic cartoons
from every land and clime.

The Next Erotic Cartoon Festival.

Starring your lifelong favorites.

Super Screw.

Little Annie Fanny.

Poor Dogwood.

Now I have to find the farm all alone.

Viva Dirt.

Was it possible that his sexuality was
located in his nose?

Schwanzel and Gretel.

I'll fix you, you little bitch.

This will loosen up your tight little
twat.

Holy shit.

We gotta do something
and do it fast before

Gretel's pussy is bigger
than the Holland Tunnel.

No white.

And all the other obscene little
characters spawned in the murky ink pot

and fertile degenerate minds of slathering
dirty old comic artists.

In 35 millimeter color and sterotic sound.

Every gasp, every moan, every slurp.

You'll love every frame.

This is a show for those between the ages
of 18 and 85.

If you're under 18, you wouldn't get in.

And if you're over 85, you can't get in
anyway.

It's my tiny little Peter.

I want to peck, peck, peck.

But I can't.

Funniest, funkiest, freakiest fables ever
etched on film.

Proving once and for all that fucking and
sucking are not two cities in China.

I just don't know how I'll ever repay you.

The Erotic Cartoon Festival.

Now I'm like, dirty.

Cartoon Festival.

I come Josephine in my walking machine.

It's in, it goes.

Come Josephine, it tickles and tickles.

Now at last, one need
not sit on a broken

folding chair in a shabby
smoke-filled back room.

Squinting at a flickering
eight-millimeter image on a dirty

semen-stained bed sheet to
see animated erotic cartoons.

Hi, I'm Francine the Funniest Freak.

They call me that because I'm just cracked
up about the comics.

I get juicy over the jokes.

You all remember those little comic books
you used to pass around at junior high?

You know, the ones that probably first
told you the ways of a man and a maid?

Well, now they're animated, double-gated,
pussy-baited, and X-rated.

If you are 18 years of age, you can sit in
the comfort of this theater and see and

hear the cream of the classic cartoons
from every land and clime.

Erotic Cartoon Festival, starring your
lifelong favorite, Super Screw.

Little Annie Fanny.

Poor Dogwood.

Now I have to find the farm all alone.

Viva Dirt.

Was it possible that his sexuality was
located in his nose?

Schwanzel and Gretel.

I'll fix you, you little bitch.

This will loosen up your tight little
twat.

Holy shit.

We gotta do something
and do it fast before

Gretel's pussy is bigger
than the Holland Tunnel.

And her white.

And all the other obscene little
characters spawned in the murky inkpot and

fertile degenerate minds of slathering
dirty old comic artists.

In 35 millimeter color and sterotic sound,
every gasp, every moan, and every slurp.

You'll love every frame.

This is a show for those between the ages
of 18 and 85.

If you're under 18, you wouldn't get in.

And if you're over 85, you can't get in
anyway.

It's my tiny little feature.

I want to peck, peck, peck, but I can't.

Funniest, funkiest, freakiest fables ever
etched on film.

Proving once and for all that fucking and
sucking are not two cities in China.

I just don't know how I'll ever repay you.

The Erotic Cartoon Festival.

Sound like dirty.

Cartoon Festival.

I come Josephine in my walking machine.

It's in.

It goes.

Comes Josephine in pickles and Now at
last, one need not sit on a broken folding

chair in a shabby smoke-filled back room,
squinting at a flickering eight-millimeter

image on a dirty semen-stained bed sheet
to see animated erotic cartoons.

Hi.

I'm Francine the Funniest Freak.

They call me that because I'm just cracked
up about the comics.

I get juicy over the jokes.

You all remember those little comic books
you used to pass around at junior high?

You know, the ones that probably first
told you the ways of a man and a maid?

Well, now they're animated, double-gated,
pussy-baited, and X-rated.

If you are 18 years of age, you can sit in
the comfort of this theater and see and

hear the cream of the classic cartoons
from every land and clime.

Erotic Cartoon Festival.

Starring your lifelong favorites.

Super Screw.

Little Annie Fanny.

Shirley Poor Dogwood.

Now I have to find the farm all alone.

He will ahs a dirt.

Was it possible that his sexuality was
located in his nose?

Schwansel and Gretel.

I'll fix you, you little bitch.

This will loosen up your tight little
twat.

Ha, ha, ha, ha!

Yes!

We gotta do something
and do it fast before

Grotto's pussy is bigger
than the Holland Tunnel.

Snow White and all the other obscene
little characters spawned in the murky ink

pots and fertile degenerate minds of
slathering dirty old comic artists.

In 35 millimeter color and sterotic sound,
every gasp, every moan, every slurp.

You'll love every frame.

This is a show for those between the ages
of 18 and 85.

If you're under 18, you wouldn't get in.

And if you're over 85, you can't get in
anyway.

It's my tiny little Peter.

I want to peck, peck, peck, but I can't.

Funniest, funkiest, freakiest fables ever
etched on film.

Proving once and for all that fucking and
sucking are not two cities in China.

I just don't know how well ever we...

The erotic cartoon festival.

Sound like dirty.

Remember these characters?

We don't mean from the Sunday comics,
but from the old eight-pagers.

Or maybe you called them...

Tijuana Bibles.

Or Stroke Books.

Whatever you called them, you couldn't
forget them.

Now they come to life
with all the fun, laughter and

eroticism they brought to
millions of people in years past.

Now here's a guy, Barney Google.

The

Countess Lipschitz.

She comes in here every night for a vodka
cocktail.

Would you like to meet this broad?

A countess?

Would I, sir?

I'm a great admirer of the ladies,
you know.

Thank you.

Attagirl, Gertie.

He's going forward in a big way.

What the tarnation's the matter?

I thought you was anxious to knock off
that chunk.

Yeah, but gosh, that would kill a cow.

I just stick the tip in and let your pussy
nibble on it.

Would you say, buddy?

When does that big-time fucking you
threatened me with start?

You shouldn't be dancing a coochie.

You should be in a sideshow.

It's the world's biggest gash.

What the hell are you trying to do?

Get your balls in there, too?

Oh, you simple bastard.

I'm trying to get them out.

Or do you remember this guy?

I wish to see Maxine Dumont.

Why, Pat, what are you doing here?

Well, uh, you see, uh...

Ah, mon cher, you are magnifique.

Where have you been all my life?

And, madame big-time,
here's a free fucking

exhibition for you that's
going to last all night.

Trapped by little Mimi the maid,
eh?

Well, she won't lose out.

I need her in my business.

Oh!

Oui, papa!

Well, hello.

Here's Jake.

If you're ever around this vicinity again,
ask for me.

My name's Aspasia.

Aspasia?

Mm.

And hi, you're Aspasia.

How about Major Hoople?

I will hear the young lady's testimony in
my chambers.

Something like this, you say?

He can.

Uh, huh?

And then he stuck his finger in me.

I guess it felt too good for me to make
him stop.

Then he opened up the front of his pants
and put my hand on something big and hot.

Oh, but your honor, Jimmy didn't do that.

Oh, Judge Hoople, that feels so pretty
good.

Oh!

All these and dozens more come alive in
Sex in the Comics.

Don't miss this erotic, fun festival of
sex and laughter.

Rated X.

Coming to this theater soon.

Remember

these characters?

We don't mean from the Sunday comics,
but from the old eight-pagers.

Or maybe you called them Tijuana Bibles.

Or stroke books.

Whatever you called them, you couldn't
forget them.

Now they come to life with
all the fun, laughter, and

eroticism they brought to
millions of people in years past.

Now here's a guy, Barney Google.

Countess Lipschitz.

She comes in here every night for a vodka
cocktail.

Would you like to beat this broad?

A countess?

Would I, sir?

I'm a great admirer of the ladies,
you know.

Thank you.

Atta girl, Gertie.

He's going forward in a big way.

What the tarnation's the matter?

I thought you was asking to knock off a
chunk.

Yeah, but gosh, that would kill a cow.

I'd just stick the tip in and let your
pussy nibble on it.

What'd you say, buddy?

See you after the show.

When does that big-time fucking you
threatened me with start?

You shouldn't be dancing a coochie.

You should be in a sideshow.

It's the world's biggest gash.

What the hell are you trying to do?

Get your balls in there, too?

No, you simple bastard.

I'm trying to get them out.

Or do you remember this guy?

I wish to see Maxine Dumont.

Why, Pat, what are you doing here?

Uh, uh...

Well, uh...

You see, uh...

Ah, mon cher, you are...

magnifique.

Where have you been all my life?

And, madame big-time,
here's a free fucking

exhibition for you that's
going to last all night.

Trapped by little Mimi the maid,
eh?

Well, she won't lose out.

I need her in my business.

Oh!

Hey, Papa.

Well, hello.

Here's Jake.

If you're ever around this vicinity again,
ask for me.

My name's Aspasia.

Aspasia?

Mm.

And hi, you're Aspasia.

How about Major Hoople?

I will hear the young lady's testimony in
my chambers.

Something like this, you say?

He can.

Huh?

And then he stuck his finger in me.

I guess it felt too good for me to make
him stop.

Then he opened up the front of his pants
and put my hand on something big and hot.

Oh, but your honor, Jimmy didn't do that.

Oh, Judge Hoople, that feels so pretty
good.

Oh!

All these.

And dozens more come alive in Sex in the
Comics.

Don't miss this erotic, fun festival of
sex and laughter.

Rated X.

Coming to this theater soon.

Remember

these characters?

We don't mean from the Sunday comics.

But from the old eight-pagers.

Or maybe you called them Tijuana Bibles.

Or stroke books.

Whatever you called them, you couldn't
forget them.

Now they come to life with
all the fun, laughter, and

eroticism they brought to
millions of people in years past.

Now here's a guy, Barney Google.

Countess Lipschitz.

She comes in here every night for a vodka
cocktail.

Would you like to meet this broad?

A countess?

Would I?

Sir.

I'm a great admirer of the ladies,
you know.

That a girl, Gertie.

She's going forward in a big way.

What the tarnation's the matter?

I thought you was anxious to knock off a
chunk.

Yeah, but gosh, that would kill a cow.

I just stick the tip in and let your pussy
nibble on it.

What'd you say, buddy?

See ya.

When does that big time fucking you
threaten me with start?

You shouldn't be dancing a coochie.

You should be in a sideshow.

It's the world's biggest gas.

What the hell are you trying to do?

Get your balls in there, too?

No, you simple bastard.

I'm trying to get them out.

Or do you remember this guy?

I wish to see Maxine Dumas.

Why, Pat, what are you doing here?

Well, uh, uh, you see, uh, ah,
ah, ah, mon cher, you are magnifique.

Where have you been all my life?

And, madame big time,
here's a free fucking

exhibition for you that's
going to last all night.

Trapped by little Mimi the maid,
eh?

Well, she won't lose out.

I need her in my business.

Oh.

Oui, papa.

Well, hello.

Here's Jake.

If you're ever around this vicinity again,
ask for me.

My name's Aspasia.

Aspasia?

Mmm.

And higher, Aspasia.

How about Major Hoople?

I will hear the young lady's testimony in
my chambers.

Something like this, you say?

Uh, huh?

And then he stuck his finger in me.

I guess it felt too good for me to make
him stop.

Then he opened up the front of his pants
and put my hand on something big and hot.

Oh, but your honor, Jimmy didn't do that.

Oh, Jack Hoople, that felt so pretty good.

Oh.

All these and dozens more come alive in
Sex in the Comics.

Don't miss this erotic, fun festival of
sex and laughter.

Rated X.

Coming to this theater soon.

Well, there's only one way to make that
kind of money in 24 hours.

Make a porno flick.

A dirty movie.

You'll clean up.

There are eight million stories in the
Naked City.

I don't...

This is not one of them.

But we don't have nothing about movie
making.

Ah, with some technical assistance, you
can put together a dynamite fucked film.

Move!

Sing, you prick!

Ah, gee.

No shit!

No shit!

Ah, gee.

Well,

there's only one way to make that kind of
money in 24 hours.

Make a porno flick.

A dirty movie.

You'll clean up.

There are eight million stories in the
Naked City.

I don't...

This is not one of them.

But we don't know nothing about movie
making.

Ah, with some technical assistance, you
can put together a dynamite fucked film.

music.

music.

music.

music.

music.

music.

Down, big fella!

Move!

Sing, you prick!

Ah, gee.

music.

No shit!

music.

music.

music.

music.

music.

music.

music.

There's only one way to make that kind of
money in 24 hours.

Make a porno flick.

A dirty movie.

You'll clean up.

There are eight million stories in the
Naked City.

I don't...

This is not one of them.

But we don't know nothing about movie
making.

Ah, with some technical assistance, you
can put together a dynamite fucked film.

music.

music.

music.

music.

Move!

Sing, you prick!

Ah, gee.

music.

music.

No shit!

music.

music.

music.

music.

music.

music.

music.

music.

music.

music.

music.

music.

Remember these characters?

We don't mean from the Sunday Comics,
but from the old eight pager.

Or maybe you call them Tijuana Bibles or
Stroke Books.

Yes, come in.

Frank Johnson.

Yes, yes, come in, please.

Delafield's Silver and Gold Publications.

But of course.

Take a seat, please.

Warm, isn't it?

Well, I'm sorry.

The air conditioner broke down.

Always does in the heat wave.

Well, where do we start, Miss Fields?

Well, as you know, the
magazine would like to

lay out an article on
you and Pinky the Cat.

Somewhere in the beginning would be good.

The beginning of Pinky or me?

They both make good stories.

However, Pinky the Cat has been a
children's institution for over 25 years.

Maybe we should start with him.

Now, how was he born?

Oh, Pinky wasn't born.

He was sort of hatched.

I think he was a bastard.

Now, that's not for publication.

No, he was just an outgrowth of a period.

You might say he evolved out of the
gutter.

You want to clear that up for publication?

You were too young to remember that,
I suppose.

Well, look, let me put it another way.

I'll tell you the story of another
cartoonist in another time and era,

and maybe that'll clear Pinky up.

I don't suppose you remember the eight
pagers?

Eight pagers?

Yeah.

Well, our cartoonist friend...

Mac, shall we call him, was what is known
today as a chauvinistic pig.

That is to say, he joined in on a great
adventure called the First World War.

It was a restless generation, anxious and
naive.

They were going to make the world safe for
democracy, apple pie, and mother.

They were the holdovers for the Victorian
era, where profanity came in terms like

gosh, gee whiz, and fudge.

It was an era that obliged its men to take
their hats off to a lady.

It was also an era when
ladies... were ladies.

But they had learned a lot of unusually
strange habits in France.

Drinking and women.

Both came free and
plentiful with that marvelously

uninhibited gallic
quality of indifference.

Now they were home, and they couldn't even
get a drink thanks to Mr. Volstead.

The guys just weren't going to stand still
for it.

You know what happened then.

A lot of whiskey and beer ran down the
gutters.

But when Uncle Sam busted
those barrels, he released their

last vestige of American ethics
with it, and moonshine spilled.

The speakeasies Al Capone and the flapper
all came pouring out.

With it, floating out of the public
conscience, went Queen Victoria.

All the stops was in a new era was born.

Mac, our cartoonist friend, was looking
for something to do.

He couldn't sell his cartoon character to
any of the syndicates.

It was all locked up.

He wasn't really really
set up for bootlegging, and

he was too much of an
artist to do anything else.

So he helped create the eight pages.

You want an abortion?

You want an abortion?

It was.

But what was the eight pager?

I thought you'd never ask.

Go ahead, take a look.

It won't bite you.

Oh, those cold dirty books, weren't they?

Well, now that's a misnomer.

Actually, they were really very good.

Dirt had nothing to do with it.

They were a satirization of the times.

Well, take this one, for instance.

Barney Google.

It was a popular comic strip of the times.

But it showed you just one side of the
man.

Now look, the eight pager showed you the
more human and humorous side.

Yes, sir.

Aimed to buy that Brooklyn Bridge I've
been all reading about.

Got spot cash for it, too.

Pipe the runt.

Get goody.

And tie it.

Tell her it's a pushover.

And tell her to lay off the rough stuff.

These southern guys are funny that way.

Tell her to act like a lady.

Got you, boys.

That's the Countess Linschitz.

She comes in here every night for a vodka
cocktail.

Would you like to meet Miss Brock?

Countess?

Would I, sir?

I'm a great admirer of ladies,
you know.

Thank you.

Attagirl, Gertie.

He's going forward in a big way.

It's a pipe dream.

Gertie, I mean Countess.

I want you to meet the great Bernard H.

Google of Georgia, et cetera, et cetera.

Ah, Mr. Google, I am delighted.

I've heard a great many things about you.

Ah, I'm delighted to meet you.

I'm sure, Countess.

What do you say we go over to my
apartment, Mr. Google?

I have some wonderful brandy and we can be
alone.

Now you're talking my language,
Countess.

What'd I tell you, Spike?

You fell for that Countess shit like a ton
of bricks.

I'm just crazy to hear
about this plantation of

yours and about this
bridge you're going to buy.

Now you're talking my language.

Countess.

What the tarnation's the matter?

I thought you was anxious to knock off a
chunk.

But gosh, that would kill a cow.

I just stick the tip in and let your pussy
nibble on it.

Oh, daddy's a dunderful.

Whoa, must have gone in all the way.

Oh, daddy's a dunderful.

The doorbell.

I hope it's Blondie home early.

Maybe we can knock off one before supper.

Hello, handsome.

I'm from the O.K.

Contraceptive Company.

How's about a demonstration of our
product?

My wife isn't home.

Now don't give me any sales of your
product.

I'm going to get the
sales resistance, cause

you're going to be just
crazy to buy my product.

But lady!

My wife!

I simply put one of our tablets in the old
joy hole.

Then without the slightest danger I jazz.

Uh huh.

But we've always used rubbers.

Huh.

Huh.

Rubbers don't give me the satisfaction
that one gets when okay tablets are used.

Why, it's just like washing your feet with
your socks on when you use a rubber.

Now, with okay tablets...

I'm full, ladies!

Say no more!

Thanks for the fifty bucks, mister.

I hope your wife likes okay.

If you're ever able to use them.

Oh, Dagwood!

I'm sorry I was gone so long, but I met
the nicest man at Lucy's.

He was selling a wonderful new
contraceptive.

What?

You mean you bought a dozen boxes?

Gee, honey, I hope you won't think that
I'm extravagant.

What's this?

I caught him, your honor.

Parked on the main highway.

And screwing like jackrabbits.

He made me do it.

And what did you say your name was?

Etiquette?

Remember, this is a very delicate man.

I will hear the young lady's testimony in
my chambers.

You take charge of the young man,
O'Reilly.

Yes, sir.

Come with me, young lady.

Come, come.

Don't be bashful.

Tell me everything from the beginning.

I can understand.

I was a young man myself at one time.

Well...

Uh...

Jimmy and I had been to a dance where we
had several drinks.

And then, on the way home, he commenced
making love to me.

I didn't exactly object.

So he parked the car and he turned out the
lights.

And we was necking when he started feeling
my legs.

And then, before I knew it, he had his
hand on my pussy.

Something like this, you say?

He can't.

Uh... Huh?

And then, he stuck his finger in me.

I guess it felt too good for me to make
him stop.

Then, he opened up the front of his pants
and put my hand on something big and hot.

Then, he made me straddle across his lap.

And... and...

Yes, yes.

Go right ahead.

Tell me every little detail.

Quick.

Tell me faster.

And then, he put that big thing right in
me.

Just like that.

And pulled me down on top of it.

Oh, I thought it would kill me at first.

But after a few seconds, it began.

It began to feel good.

Faster.

He can't.

He can't.

He can't.

He can't.

Oh, Judge, it felt so good.

I cried fast enough.

And then, I felt something hot shoot in
me.

And I thought I was gonna pee.

And then, I fainted.

Oh, Judge.

Faster.

He can't.

He can't.

He can't.

Oh, but Your Honor, Jimmy didn't do that.

Oh, Judge, well, that feels so goody-good.

Oh.

Goodbye, Judgey dear.

Come on, Jimmy, let's go home.

Case dismissed.

But I want to warn you, O'Reilly,
about molesting innocent people.

He can't.

Well, I'll be.

But, Judge, who hit you in the nose?

Hmm.

I'll tell you what, Dixie.

If you really want to make a hit with Eddie,
just give a little fuck once in a while.

I've never done anything like that before.

I'd try it, but I don't know the first
thing about fucking.

Well, baby, you're in luck.

I was just downtown.

And I'm an imitation prick.

As soon as I get some of these clothes
off, I'll show you what it's all about.

Now, you spread out while I get this phony
prickin' mustache on.

And prepare to get raped.

Ooh.

Is it going to hurt?

He'll start off by kissing your tits.

Tits like this.

And fingering your cunt just to get you
into a fucking mood.

Hmm.

I like that.

Then, when he's got
you all hot and bothered,

he'll tip you over and
sneak it up your flue.

Oh, Dixie.

Oh, Dixie.

I'm getting hot, too.

Put your hand on my cunt.

Oh, Dixie.

This is wonderful.

Now, Dixie, you put on this fake mustache
and prick and screw me for a while.

I will not.

You're the one who's the teacher.

You fuck me some more.

Okay, you selfish bitch.

Fuck you some more.

But you're going to eat a lot of pussy
while I'm doing it.

What'd you say, buddy?

See you after the show.

What's on your mind, Uncle Jay?

I got a deuce and a hard-on.

Let's do business.

Deuces are so scarce this season.

I'd screw a dozen marks for that much.

Sister, you can't handle a dozen shags
like I'm going to give you.

You must spend a lot of time in yanking
that thing to get it that big.

Oh, yeah?

Smart-cracking bimble, ain't you?

Well, let's see what you can do.

Hell, that ain't no cunt.

It's a corridor.

Say, when does that big-time fucking you
threatened me with start?

You shouldn't be dancing the coochie.

You should be in the sideshow.

It's the world's biggest gash.

I'd like to know who it was who ripped
you.

You could fuck.

Hey, hey, hey.

Spread your legs out a little wider,
huh?

What the

hell are you trying to do?

Get your balls in there, too?

No, you simple bastard.

I'm trying to get them out.

It's warm in here, isn't it?

Anyway, Mr. Johnson,
I still don't see the

connection between all
of that and Pinky the Cat.

Well, there isn't.

Not yet.

Look, I was just trying to describe the
tenor of the times.

A lot of young potential
cartoonists were out in the street

pounding away at the legitimate
door, only to be turned away.

Forced into things they may not have
liked, but helped them continue their art.

Look, I'm sorry about the heat in here.

Can I open the window?

No, thanks.

Well, anyway, what happened to our
fictitious cartoonist next?

Well, nothing.

He just kept on doing what he was doing.

The Depression hit with a fury now,
and if there was any chance for

cartoonists before, it dwindled away to
nothing after the stock market crash.

His hopes went down as fast as the ticker
tape results.

The country was
forced into a depression,

and with it all the
craziness of the decade.

The college kids
swallowed goldfish and didn't

even ask for an
Alka-Seltzer to wash it down.

Some of them danced for endless hours for
the honor of winning a silver-plated cup

and all the sandwiches they could eat in
the interim.

They weren't getting much to eat at home.

The country had skidded to rock bottom and
refused to bounce up again.

Mr. Ford came out with a $600 car and no
one could afford to buy one.

And the chicken in every
pot ended up by people going

to the local grocer and
asking for a bone for the dog.

They got the bone for the dog.

But they brought it home and made bean
soup out of it.

Yet they had their moments.

Jigsaw puzzles, free ball games over the
radio, movies were big, and every one of

them followed the antics of Moon Mullins
and the Sunday Bunnies.

About that time, Mack
was approached by a New

York publisher to do
some eight-pagers for him.

Since Mack was starving with the rest of
the country, he accepted.

He used all of the currently
accepted popular cartoons

of the time and worked them
into popular eight-pagers.

In a short time, he was king.

He produced almost 45% of the books that
were printed.

A lot of them got mad as hell,
especially the authorities.

But no one was ever caught printing or
publishing a single copy.

His first endeavor was Moon Mullins.

Hmm, that looks like some sucker.

Hot dog, some class.

Hold it, miss.

You dropped your handkerchief.

Mullins is my name.

Just handsome to you.

Oh, how awkward of me.

Thank you, Mr. Mullins.

Darn sweet of you to invite me up here,
baby.

How much is the tax?

Tax?

What tax?

Why, Mr. Mullins, I really believe you
think I would take money.

Why, I like you.

That's why I won't take your money.

Well, then you want to give me my ring
back here?

Oh, that's a broge ring.

That's another broge.

That's a collar button.

That's a cuff link.

That's my ring.

How do you know it's your ring?

It's got my initials on it.

Golly, a piece of charity ass.

You race high with me, baby.

Let's do business.

Daddy, ooh, that's some plunger you have.

Hot shit, boy.

Wiggle your ass, baby.

I'm going to give you a fuck you'll never
forget.

Daddy, I'm going to come.

Give it to me.

Let her fly, kid.

Old Moonshine can take it.

Hello, Spike.

I thought you'd never get here.

Well, I hope this mug has more on it than
the last one did.

Get up and let me at it.

Hello there, big boy.

Want to come up and...

I'm too tired.

Come here.

I'll give you a job.

Kneel down.

Take that gum out of your mouth.

I'll put you on my staff of cocksuckers.

Someday you may be a big star.

Oh, thank you, sir.

I'll do my best.

Why, er, miss...

My wife has told me that you're four weeks
behind in the room rent and that she wants

either the cash or the room.

Oh, Mr. Hoople.

Who?

Why, yes, Mrs. Hoople has gone for the
day.

But that makes no difference.

I am lord and master in the house of
Hoople.

Oh, Major.

I have a confession to make to you.

Oh, Major.

Please don't think I'm a little fool,
but you'll never know how much I've longed

to have you take me in your arms and love
me to death.

You're so dignified and masterful.

Please, Major.

Kiss me.

Tuck-tip, little girl.

I know just how you feel.

Armadillo, you are not alone.

You are not the first to be overcome by
the masculine beauty of a Hoople.

Oh, Daddy.

Please, fuck me.

He can't, girlie.

Never let it be said that a Hoople ever
failed a fair lady in distress.

No one can blame you, little girl.

Some of the world's most gorgeous women
have fought over what I'm giving you,

Paragraphis.

What an imagination you've got.

Now, Major.

You rest and I'll pump.

But don't you think we had better hurry
and get it over with?

We mustn't take too many risks.

Your wife might walk in on us.

But will that?

I've yet to reach climax.

Well, your little talk with the girl
upstairs did a little good, eh?

She paid up a month in advance.

Ah, yes.

That's good, my love.

I was sure I could talk her into it.

Granted, Sluggy.

Hold the arse just so.

By Jove.

The bloody chap must be good if he can do
that.

Ah,

supposed to be a sweet madame.

Ah, a bully Frenchman.

My word.

Doesn't that chap ever get tired?

Madame, she likely French prick,
yes?

No, no, madame.

The good cocksucker tickle the balls while
they suck.

Ah.

Oui, oui.

Fancy that.

He's complaining.

I resent that.

How can you stand by and let another man
fuck your wife?

Do something!

My dear fellow.

What can I do?

I don't know a word of French.

Well, if that don't beat the cake.

Disgusting.

I guess I'll just stand here and watch
them do it for a while.

Why, just imagine.

Such nerve.

Right out here in public.

Mmm.

Makes me feel funny watching them.

Hey.

What the hell?

Ah, those horrid things.

Wow.

So that's the attraction.

Hmm, hmm.

Huh, huh, huh, huh.

Huh, huh.

Yowie!

Look at those two go!

Hot dog!

And that baby, fuck!

Oh wow!

Now she's chewing on it.

Oh wow!

Look at those two go!

Kiss me, Daddy!

I'm coming!

Come on, baby, let's fuck again!

What?

Lesbians, but whoever
they were, they opened up

the eight-page business
once again with a bang.

A rip-roaring explosion.

Of course, the little guy overseas with
the funny mustache and chin partner were

raising hell, but this country was too
busy trying to keep its teenagers from

tearing up the palace
whenever a Woody Herman or

a Tommy Dorsey consented
to make an appearance.

It all felt like the world
was riding a crest of a

wave and we were all
heading for one hell of a crash.

We did, too.

But that came later.

For at the moment, we were
just fine in the Sunday supplement

and in the gutters and back
alleys from coast to coast.

I'm Detective Richard Tracy.

Call me Dick.

Did you wish to see me?

Yes, Mr. Tracy.

I am Peter Doubt.

And I have every reason to believe that my
wife is leading a double life.

She's reached the stage where every sexual
approach on my part is repulsive to her.

I will spare no expense in this matter,
but I must know the facts.

Go to it, Dickie.

Hmm...

There she goes into that old bungalow.

I'll wait here till she gets in.

Then go over to that window and find out
who she meets there.

Well, honey, how did you manage to get
away from your old man today?

Well, I'm supposed to be at a matinee.

Oh, hell.

I guess I'll have to get busy again.

I suppose you have a bad case of hot nuts.

And how.

That phony husband of mine was fooling
around with my snatch again.

And as usual, he couldn't get a hard on.

Come on, you know what I want.

Oh, Trixie.

Please don't tease me.

My cunt is burning up.

Come on, fuck me.

Wait till I get this thing tied on,
you ornery bitch.

Ooh.

Trixie.

Now don't be selfish and go throw in your
lump.

I want a little satisfaction out of this.

Mmm.

Mmm.

Mmm.

Trixie.

Ooh, Trixie.

I'm coming.

Ah, Mr. Doubt.

I beg to report that your suspicions are
entirely unfounded.

Your wife has no paramour.

But if you would increase your domestic
happiness, I'd advise you to buy a wimpus.

Or a large dildo.

Or still better, take some lessons in
sucking cunts.

I said, would you like to buy some
rubbers?

Is that so?

No, no.

Rubbers.

Things you put on your prick with your
jazz for the fun of it.

Why don't you put lard and turpentine on
them?

That's what I use.

I had a bunch of them when I was with Lee
at Giddysburg.

Is there something I can do for you?

Grandfather is hard of hearing.

And I run the store.

I was beginning to think there was
something wrong with me.

Yep.

The darn things are sure pesky at times.

They sure are.

Well, uh, you see, miss, I sell rubber
goods.

Oh, yes, I understand.

If you'll come into the office,
I think we can use some.

Oh, have you any of those fancy French
things?

Better take my advice, sonny.

Put some lard and turpentine on those
critters.

You'll be rubbing yourself raw if you
don't.

Well, uh, these are genuine.

If I could only show you how they work.

You look okay.

Will they bust?

I've had a lot of complaints lately on
guys having them on them.

Well, what do you say?

Let's try it.

I'll use the one with the knobs on it.

It'll only take a few seconds.

I'm pretty quick on the trigger.

Oh, this is so sudden.

Well...

Be quick about it.

I mean, no funny stuff.

No head play.

Well, what do you say, kiddo?

Does that tickle or does that tickle?

Oh, gee.

It feels like an alligator has walked up
me.

Oh, take it easy.

That hurts.

Don't yell in my fucking ear.

Crap, a fucking broad's going nuts.

Ah, you've taken my advice, honey,
and used the remedy.

Everything would have been okey-dokey.

Bullshit!

Yep.

They itch like hell.

I had it myself at 64.

Hee-hee-hee.

Ah!

God fucking damn it!

It seems there's something going on behind
that fence that's worthy of investigation.

What the hell do you want?

Oh, Bill, tell him you're fucking.

It slipped out.

Think nothing of the intrusion,
my lad.

I'm a past master at the proper science of
fucking.

Let me tell you of the time I was in one
of our diplomatic missions in Hawaii.

Oh, honey.

Don't hit him now.

Let's fuck.

I'll smack him once.

In the year of 1912, I
was sent to the islands to

arrange certain affairs
of state for my country.

I was a strapping fellow, and while
bathing, I came upon a beautiful hula girl

whose name was Zola, the most beautiful
dancer of her race.

T'was said that she danced every hour of
the day.

Entranced by her dancing, I kept out of
sight until I was sure we were alone.

Unbeknown to myself, I
was raising a tremendous

heart on watching
her suggestive dance.

She quickly noticed, and dropping her
grass skirt, threw herself into my arms.

To that primitive girl goes the credit of
giving me the greatest hard-on of my

professional career in fucking.

Would you believe that hard-on lasted for
three days without pulling it out once?

I screwed her for three
weeks at a time until I

was notified that my
country needed me at home.

Home.

Home!

Home!

Home!

Home!

Home!

I

told her to leave and the girl took it
philosophically enough.

For the week before my departure,
we fucked, continually, day and night.

I've since learned from reliable sources

She has given birth to twins, triplets,
and quadruplets.

All mine.

Don't hit him again, Bill.

You might kill the old fool.

Get up, you old windbag, and I'll knock
you out over that fence.

Ha!

The train ran right through the crossing.

I nailed the boys for $200 in a stud game.

I think I'll squander it.

Come here, split tails.

Well, hi there, honey.

Well, young lady, what could you do for a
fellow with a few bucks and a hard-on?

Well, I guess I could use a couple of
bucks.

And I know I can fuck you hard.

Class.

This is my father.

He owns the hotel.

Class.

Go ahead and register.

And give him a little tip, too.

What have you got for the night?

One double, ten scoats.

One double, ten scoots.

The only thing double about this
upholstered toilet is the price.

Ah, don't be uphill.

Class.

Doesn't your father get angry when you
bring strange men up here?

Nah.

If you're ever around this vicinity again,
ask for me.

My name's Aspasia.

Well, it all depends on what the tariff is
for this session, love.

Sir, I'm only going to charge you 25 bucks
a bang.

What?

Hey, let me up before the bill gets any
higher.

Twenty-five dollars, ten dollars for this
flop, another 25, you're out of your mind.

And what did you say your name was?

Aspasia.

Mm-hmm.

And how are you, Aspasia?

Well, a girl has to live.

Mr. Howdy, Mr. Howdy!

There's a mouse in my room, but I can't
find it.

Oh, Pittman!

Sure, lady!

Mice is my fish!

Wait on!

I'll follow!

Ye gods!

Look at that hole!

Did she say mouse or moose?

Oh, hurry!

I'm simply scared to death!

Get away!

Howdy, turtle rescue!

Oh, dear!

Do you suppose it could be in this hole?

Buck howdy!

That's what they call me!

I always get my varmint!

Oh, sweet daddy!

You sure know how to use that weapon!

Oh, god!

Now!

Once up the old dirt road to see if it's
all clear!

Whoo!

Whee!

Is that hole tight?

Hot damn!

That's a silly place I live for!

Don't quit now!

I'm just getting hot!

Let's quit looking for that silly mouse
and fuck!

Ye gods, Laney!

This is a six-shooter, not a machine gun!

Get up them stairs, young man!

There's a mouse in me drawers!

And you're gonna get it out!

You know, Mac was in a real dilemma.

He didn't want to get
drafted into the army because

the eight-page business
had really revived itself.

Besides, he wasn't too patriotic anyway.

Loyal to the country,
yes, but he just didn't

like the idea of
getting his ass shot off.

Drink.

Yes, thanks.

I never knew the eight pages had such a
history.

It's really very interesting.

Yes, I always thought so.

It's all a part of the history of
cartooning.

You'll know men were first scratching out
dirty pictures when man first started

etching in his cave.

The ancient walls of
Pompeii are so strewn with

pornography that women
tourists aren't even allowed inside.

All the rest of the city fell down,
but the walls with the dirty pictures and

the ancient penis stayed erect.

Is that the reason the walls were
preserved?

Oh, but I'll give you odds that Vida Can P
will outlast the Mona Lisa.

Oh, god, it's like a blast furnace in
here.

Mm-hmm.

So I guess that was the end of the eight
pager.

Yeah, they'd had it.

But the country was face to face with a
real problem.

Survive.

We went to war and the eight pager went
with it.

Our GIs left enough graphic pornography on
the walls of Europe to last a century.

But there were still a few bitter
hangers-on.

And Mack was one of them.

He still couldn't get on with a newspaper
Sunday.

But he still had to eat.

So he went back to the tried and true
winners of the past.

You know, Betty Boop was having something
of a revival.

And she was something familiar that the
country could hang on to.

Nobody even cared whether she had any
clothes on.

She was just a reminder of a pleasanter
past.

We won the war, we dropped the bomb,
and then we lost the peace.

And in less than 20 years,
the new generation just simply

pushed the old one aside
and told it to go fuck itself.

It didn't need the eight pagers to use its
imagination on.

It was out doing its own thing.

Making the eight pager look like
kindergarten time.

If there were any morals left, you had
to hunt in an old age home to find them.

All the stops were out again.

Middle-aged and old men were letting their
hair grow down to their asses and

professed to be right on.

Nine-year-old fourth graders were getting
knocked up.

And their fathers were taking them to
Tijuana for an abortion.

The country had finally flipped its gourd
and the gooey stuff they were stepping on

in the streets was what was left of their
brains.

Their morals had left them back in 39.

But Mac stayed right with it.

He kept on learning.

And his cartoons were as lost as he was.

After all, the new generation didn't
really give a damn and the only ones who

did and could remember nostalgically were
so damn old it really didn't matter.

But for a moment, Barney Googled it.

All and the rest had a slight revival.

Tracy, here's an
assignment that some of the

best men in the department
have fallen down on.

It's a nasty reflection on our force that
none of them have been able to get the

goods on Maxine Dumont, international
smuggler and jewel thief.

She's easy to find and
approach, but they always

come back as if they're
doped or something.

And they're worthless thereafter.

I'll bring her in.

I wish to see Maxine Dumont.

Why, Pat, what are you doing here?

Well, uh, you see, uh...

Just investigating.

Another gembrane, Mimi.

Chose Monsieur Pat.

Out.

You will please step in, Monsieur Tracy.

I have heard much about you, mon dieu.

And now, my fool, did you not know that no
man has ever resisted the great Maxine?

Ah, chérie, I will fuck you.

What you call simple?

You will be my slave, Monsieur Tracy.

Oh.

Oh.

You think you're so clever.

Take off the best of ze clothes,
Monsieur.

Ah, mon cher, you are...

magnifique.

Where have you been all my life?

That is a beauty.

Not bad, eh?

At last I have found a man with a prick to
please me.

You shall never go away.

C'est de ça, mon cher.

It is all over.

Every time you get man with big prick,
Mimi can go to hell.

But now ze worm is turned.

I will show Jean-Dame where Jules is hid
if he give me good fuck.

Comprendez-vous?

Okay, baby.

Don't believe her.

Hello, Chief.

Tracy talking.

We'll bring in Madame Dumont with the
jewels in the morning.

We'll be very busy tonight.

I don't want to be disturbed.

And, Madame Big Time,
here's a free fucking

exhibition for you that's
going to last all night.

Trapped by little Mimi the maid,
eh?

Well, she won't lose out.

I need her in my business.

Get

a load of that lifeguard.

Look at those fucking muscles.

Hello, big and handsome.

Wow.

Pickled meat for an anchovy.

Just a minute, will you?

Who's the lucky stiff you're waiting for?

Hey, not so fast.

Let's find a cozy place up the beach.

Let's go, baby.

I'm just dying for some strenuous necking.

You.

You believe me.

Why not?

You might get a notion you don't like me,
so why waste time?

Come on.

Let's get the rest of this bathing suit
off.

Let's go to town, sugar.

Ha, ha, ha.

Ha, ha, ha.

Say, let me spank this uke and see if we
can get some rhythm into this.

My cat.

Whoops.

My cat has bleeds.

Hey, that's a great idea, baby.

I can always spark better than music.

How abominable.

I wanna be loved by you, by you and nobody
else will do.

Ha-aku.

Now, if the baby's depressed, I ain't
gonna tell anybody else.

I meant I wanted to get some chat with
you.

Huh?

What's the Matters.

I'm sorry.

I don't want to be called it.

It's kinda rubbish.

The way it makes a mess inairs.

He's gone.

I bet I'll be in bed before you will,
dear.

I guess so.

How do you feel, baby?

Oh, I'm ripe for a good fucking deer.

Oh, I got hot and nuts this morning,
sweet me.

I can tell by the sound of your voice.

And by the way it throbs, it makes me hot
all over.

Hey, lay off, baby.

You can suck it later.

I'll

have it for breakfast, dear.

Oh, baby.

Oh, baby.

Come on.

Come on, baby.

Oh, baby.

Come on.

Get set, baby.

I'll be with you in a sec.

Hurry!

Boy, what a target.

Oh, hurry, dear.

Let me see you ring the bell.

When I'm calling you...

Just lay down, baby.

Leave it to rest a minute.

Open the door, dear.

I got some important papers.

What the hell?

I repeat, Mrs. Brown.

If you don't pay your gas bill
immediately, I shall shit on your floor.

Where's my baby?

Don't move.

He's drunk.

I feel like a piece of that ass,
wife.

Get set.

Mom.

When he gets on the bed.

Where's the bed, wife?

Over here, dear.

Wife, have you been cheating on me?

I see six feet in this bed.

Nonsense.

You're drunk.

Drunk?

Nothing.

I'll count them.

Shh.

Don't move.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Now, are you satisfied?

Yes, I am.

You're right.

I must be drunk.

I can only count four.

The idea of thinking I would cheat.

So long, baby.

Good morning.

I'm Dr. Fingalforte.

What's the trouble?

Well, Dr. Fingalforter.

Uh, Dr. Fingalfrigger.

Dr. Fingalforte.

Dr. Fortyfinger.

Dr. Fingalforte.

Fortyfinger.

Dr. Fingalforte.

Fingerfucker.

Fingerfucker.

Fingerfootty.

Fingerfucker.

Fingerfucker.

Fingerfucker.

Forget it.

Fuck it.

Something's wrong.

I've been screwing my wife Toots here for
two years.

We're trying to have a baby.

I just can't seem to knock her up.

I don't know.

I do my part.

He blames me.

Well, Mr. Casper.

Sometimes it's the woman.

One other time it's the man.

But to get the ting settled, I want you
should fuck her over there on that couch.

And in two minutes, I'll give you the
answer, quick, like that.

Come on, Casper, I'm game.

This is funny!

Stop!

Wait!

No, no, Poirot.

Already I see the trouble.

Oy!

Oy!

Bit of trick like that, you could knock up
a cockerel achievement.

The only chance you got is a sympathetic
baby.

You mean synthetic, don't you,
doctor?

You see, she jerks you off.

And I catch it in this jar.

And then, with an atomizer tube,
I blow it up in her womb.

And nine months later, he gives the baby,
okay?

Doctor, it feels so good.

It hits just the right spot.

Oh, boy, I got hot nuts.

It looks good enough to eat.

Ooh, doctor, you darling.

Ooh.

They're leaving me out in the cold.

Shh.

Shh.

Shh.

Shh.

Shh.

Shh.

Shh.

They're leaving me out in the cold.

Oh, doctor, they feel so good.

Ooh.

Pinky the Cat.

Where does he come into all of this?

It's going to be very difficult for me to
print the story you just told me.

You're right.

But then I always digress.

Look, I'll tell you what.

Why don't you come up with me to my
apartment?

And I'll fix dinner for the both of us.

And give you the whole story.

Okay?

Sounds great.

Only I'll fix the dinner.

Super!

He must have been quite a man,
your friend Mack.

I sure would have liked to have met him.

Who knows?

I don't know.

Yes, come in.

Trey Johnson?

Yes.

Yes, come in, please.

Delafield's silver and gold publications?

But of course.

Take a seat.

Please.

Warm, isn't it?

Well, I'm sorry.

The air conditioner broke down.

Always does in a heat wave.

Well, where do we start, Miss Fields?

Well, as you know, the
magazine would like to

lay out an article on
you and Pinky the Cat.

Somewhere in the beginning would be good.

The beginning of Pinky or me?

They both make good stories.

However, Pinky the Cat has been a
children's institution for over 25 years.

Maybe we should start with him.

Now, how was he born?

No, Pinky wasn't born.

He was sort of hatched.

He was a bastard.

Now, that's not for publication.

Now, he was just an outgrowth of a period.

You might say he evolved out of the
gutter.

You want to clear that up for publication?

You were too young to remember that,
I suppose.

Well, look, let me put it another way.

I'll tell you the story of another
cartoonist in another time and era,

and maybe that'll clear Pinky up.

I don't suppose you remember the Eight
Pagers.

Eight Pagers?

Well, our cartoonist
friend, Mack, shall we call

him, was what is known
today as a chauvinistic pig.

That is to say, he joined in on a great
adventure called the First World War.

It was a restless generation, anxious and
naive.

They were going to make the world safe for
democracy, apple pie, and mother.

They were the holdovers for the Victorian
era, where profanity came in terms like

gosh, gee whiz, and fudge.

It was an era that obliged its men to take
their hats off to a lady.

It was also an era when ladies were
ladies.

But they had learned a lot of unusually
strange habits in France.

Drinking and women.

Both came free and
plentiful with that marvelously

uninhibited Gallic
quality of indifference.

Now they were home and they couldn't even
get a drink thanks to Mr. Volstead.

The guys just weren't going to stand still
for it.

You know what happened then.

A lot of whiskey and beer ran down the
gutters.

But when Uncle Sam busted
those barrels, he released

the last vestige of
American ethics with it.

And moonshine, speakeasies, Al Capone,
and the flapper all came pouring out.

And with it, floating out of the public
conscience, went Queen Victoria.

All the stops were closed and a new era
was born.

Mac, our cartoonist friend, was looking
for something to do.

He couldn't sell his
cartoon character to

any of the syndicates,
it was all locked up.

He wasn't really set up
for bootlegging and he

was too much of an
artist to do anything else.

So he helped create the Eight Pager.

And what an abortion it was.

But what was the Eight Pager?

I thought you'd never ask.

Go ahead, take a look.

It won't bite you.

Oh, those.

Cold, dirty books, weren't they?

Well, now that's a misnomer.

Actually, they were really very good.

Dirt had nothing to do with it.

They were a satirization of the times.

Well, take this one, for instance.

Barney Google.

It was a popular comic strip of the times.

But it showed you just one side of the
man.

Now look, the Eight Pager showed you the
more human and humorous side.

Yes, sir?

Yes, sir.

Aimed to buy that Brooklyn Bridge I've
been all reading about.

Got spot cash for it, too.

Psst.

Pipe the runt.

Get Gertie and tell her it's a pushover.

And tell her to lay off the rough stuff.

These southern guys are funny that way.

Tell her to look twine and act like a
lady.

Gotcha, boys.

That's the Countess Linschitz.

She comes in here every night for a vodka
cocktail.

Would you like to meet this broad?

A countess?

Would I, sir?

I'm a great admirer of ladies,
you know.

Thank you.

And a girl, Gertie.

He's going forward in a big way.

It's a pipe dream.

Gertie, I mean Countess, I want you to
meet the great Bernard H.

Google of Georgia, et cetera, et cetera.

Ah, Mr. Google, I'm delighted.

I've heard a great many things about you.

I'm delighted to meet you, I'm sure,
Countess.

What do you say we go over to my
apartment, Mr. Google?

I have some wonderful brandy and we can be
alone.

Now you're talking my language,
Countess.

What'd I tell you, Spike?

You fell for that Countess shit like a ton
of bricks.

I'm just crazy to hear
about this plantation of

yours and about this
bridge you're going to buy.

Now you're talking my language,
Countess.

What the tarnation's the matter?

I thought you was anxious to knock off a
chunk.

But gosh, that would kill a cow.

I'll just stick the tip in and let your
pussy nibble on it.

Oh, Daddy's hysterical.

Whoa, must have gone in all the way.

I hope it's Blondie home early.

Maybe we can knock off one before supper.

Hello, handsome.

I'm from the O.K.

Contraceptive Company.

How's about a demonstration of our
product?

My wife isn't home.

Now don't give me any sales resistance.

Because you're going to be just crazy to
buy my product.

But lady!

My wife!

I simply put one of our tablets in the old
joy hole.

Then, without the slightest danger,
I jazz.

Uh-huh.

But we've always used rubbers.

Ha, ha, ha.

Ha, ha, ha.

Rubbers don't give me the satisfaction
that one gets when O.K.

tablets are used.

Why, it's just like washing your feet with
your socks when you use a rubber.

Now, with O.K.

tablets, I'm full, ladies!

Say no more!

I don't...

Thanks for the 50 bucks, mister.

I hope your wife likes O.K.

If you're ever able to use them.

Oh, Dagwood!

I'm sorry I was gone so long but I met the
nicest man at Lucy's.

He was selling a wonderful new
contraceptive.

What?

You mean you bought a dozen boxes?

Gee, honey, I hope you don't think that
I'm extravagant.

What's this?

I caught him, your honor.

Parked on the main highway and scrawling
like jackrabbits.

He made me do it.

And what did you say your name was?

Etta Cat.

Remember, this is a very delicate matter.

I will hear the young lady's testimony in
my chambers.

You take charge of the young man,
O'Reilly.

Yes, sir.

Come with me, young lady.

Come, come.

Don't be bashful.

Tell me everything from the beginning.

I can understand.

I was a young man myself at one time.

Well...

Jimmy and I had been to a dance where we
had several drinks.

And then, on the way home, he commenced
making love to me.

I didn't exactly object.

So he parked the car
and he turned out the lights

and we was necking when
he started feeling my legs.

And then, before I knew it, he had his
hand on my pussy.

Something like this, you say?

He can't.

Uh... Huh?

And then, he stuck his finger in me.

I guess it felt too good for me to make
him stop.

Then, he opened up the front of his pants
and put my hand on something big and hot.

Then, he made me drink.

He made me straddle across his lap.

And... and...

Yes, yes.

Go right ahead.

Tell me every little detail.

Quick, tell me faster.

And then, he put that big thing right in
me.

Just like that.

And pulled me down on top of it.

Oh, I thought it would kill me at first.

But after a few seconds, it began to feel
good.

Faster.

He got it.

He got it.

He got it.

He got it.

Oh, Judge.

It felt so good.

I cried fast enough.

And then, I felt something hot shoot in
me.

And I thought I was gonna pee.

And then, I fainted.

Oh, Judge.

Faster.

He got it.

He got it.

He got it.

Oh, but Your Honor, Jimmy didn't do that.

Oh, Judge, well, that feels so goody-good.

Oh.

Goodbye, Judgey dear.

Come on, Jimmy, let's go home.

Case dismissed.

But I want to warn you, O'Reilly,
about molesting innocent people.

He got it.

Well, O'R��by, when you go with your ex-wife,
you can never get off the hook again.

When is it?

Waiter.

I need to go to Dixie's to see to
yourself.

Not now, but later.

You know I'm not gonna stop getting going.

The thing about fucking... Well,
baby, you're in luck.

I was just downtown, and I met an
imitation prick.

As soon as I get some of these clothes
off, I'll show you what it's all about.

Now, you spread out
while I get this phony

prickin' mustache on,
and prepare to get raped.

Ooh!

Is it going to hurt?

He'll start off by kissing your tits like
this...

and fingering your cunt just to get you
into a fucking mood.

Hmm.

I like that.

Then, when he's got
you all hot and bothered,

he'll tip you over and
sneak it up your flue.

Oh!

Trixie.

Oh, Dixie, I'm getting hot, too.

Put your hand on my cunt.

Oh, Trixie, this is wonderful.

Now, Dixie, you put on this fake mustache
and prick and screw me for a while.

I will not.

You're the one who's the teacher.

You fuck me some more.

Okay, you selfish bitch.

Fuck you some more.

But you're going to eat a lot of pussy
while I'm doing it.

What'd you say, buddy?

See you after the show.

What's on your mind, Uncle Jay?

I got a deuce and a hard-on.

Let's do business.

Deuces are so scarce this season.

I'd screw a dozen marks for that much.

Sister, you can't handle a dozen shags
like I'm going to give you.

You must spend a lot of time in yanking
that thing to get it that big.

Oh, yeah?

Smart-cracking bimble, ain't you?

Well, let's see what you can do.

Hell, that ain't no cunt.

It's a corridor.

Say, when does that big-time fucking you
threatened me with start?

You shouldn't be dancing the coochie.

You should be in the sideshow.

It's the world's biggest gash.

I'd like to know who it was who ripped
you.

You could fuck.

Hey, hey, hey, spread your legs out a
little wider, huh?

I've got my ass.

I've got my legs spread out as far as I
can.

What the hell are you trying to do?

Get your balls in there, too?

No, you simple bastard.

I'm trying to get them out.

It's warm in here, isn't it?

Anyway, Mr. Johnson,
I still don't see the

connection between all
of that and Pinky the Cat.

Well, there isn't.

Not yet.

Look, I was just trying to describe the
tenor of the times.

A lot of young potential
cartoonists were out in

the street pounding away
at the legitimate doors.

A little pause... and we are back.

A little pause... and we are back.

Not as fast as the ticker tape results.

The country was
forced into a depression,

and with it all the
craziness of the decade.

College kids swallowed
goldfish and didn't

even ask for an
Alka-Seltzer to wash it down.

Some of them danced for endless hours for
the honor of winning a silver-plated cup

and all the sandwiches they could eat in
the interim.

They weren't getting much to eat at home.

The country had skidded to rock bottom and
refused to bounce up again.

Mr. Ford came out with a $600 car and no
one could afford to buy one.

And the chicken and everything.

Every pot ended up
by people going to the

local grocer and asking
for a bone for the dog.

They got the bone for the dog.

But they brought it home and made bean
soup out of it.

Yet they had their moments.

Jigsaw puzzles, free ball games over the
radio, movies were big, and every one of

them followed the antics of Moon Mullins
and the Sunday Funnies.

About that time, Mack
was approached by a New

York publisher to do
some eight-pagers for him.

Since Mack was starving with the rest of
the country, he accepted.

He used all of the currently accepted
popular cartoons of the time and worked

them into popular eight-pagers.

In a short time, he was king.

He produced almost 45% of the books that
were printed.

A lot of them got mad as hell,
especially the authorities.

But no one was ever caught printing or
publishing a single copy.

His first endeavor was Moon Mullins.

In a short time, he was Daud Hmm,
that looks like some sucker.

Hot dog, some class.

Hold it, miss, you dropped your
handkerchief.

Mullins is my name.

Just hands him to you.

Oh, how awkward of me.

Thank you, Mr. Mullins.

Dine sweet of you to invite me up here,
baby.

How much is the tax?

Tax?

What tax?

Why, Mr. Mullins, I really believe you
think I would take money.

Why, I like you.

That's why I won't take your money.

Well, then you want to give me my ring
back here?

Well, that's a broderick.

It's another broderick.

What?

That's a collar button.

That's a cuff link.

That's my ring.

How do you know it's your ring?

It's got my initials on it.

Golly, a piece of charity ass.

You race high with me, baby.

Let's do business.

Daddy, ooh.

That's some plunger you have.

Hot shit play.

Wiggle your ass, baby.

I'm gonna give you a fuck you'll never
forget.

Mmm.

Daddy, I'm going to come.

Give it to me.

Let her fly, kid.

Old Moonshine can take it.

Hello, Spike.

I thought you'd never get here.

Well, I hope this mug has more on it than
the last one did.

Get up and let me at it.

Hello there, big boy.

Wanna come up and...

I'm too tired.

Come here.

I'll give you a job.

Kneel down.

Take that gum out of your bottle.

I'll put you on my staff of cocksuckers.

Someday you may be a big star.

Oh, thank you, sir.

I'll do my best.

Why, er, miss...

My wife has told me that you're four weeks
behind in the room rent and that she wants

either the cash or the room.

Oh, Mr. Hoople.

Who?

Well, I guess Mrs. Hoople has gone for the
day.

But that makes no difference.

I am lord and master in the house of
Hoople.

Oh, Major.

I've a confession to make to you.

Oh, Major.

Please don't think I'm a little fool,
but you'll never know how much I've longed

to have you take me in your arms and love
me to death.

You're so dignified and masterful.

Please, Major.

Kiss me.

Tut-tut, little girl.

I know just how you feel.

Armadere, you are not the first to be
overcome by the masculine beauty of a Hoople.

Ooh, Daddy!

Please, fuck me!

Hey, cat girlie.

Never let it be said that a Hoople ever
failed a fair lady

No one can blame you, little girl.

Some of the world's most gorgeous women
have fought over what I'm giving you,

par gratis.

What an imagination you've got.

Now, Major, you rest and I'll pump.

But don't you think we had better hurry
and get it over with?

We mustn't take too many risks.

Your wife might walk in on us.

But, well, there.

She had to reach climax.

Well, your little talk with the girl
upstairs did a little good, eh?

She paid up a month in advance.

Hmm?

Ah, yes, that's good, my love.

I was sure I could talk her into it.

Rat and slut.

Hold the ass just so.

By Jove, the bloody chap must be good if
he can do that.

Ah,

the pussy is sweet, madame.

Ah, a bully Frenchman.

My word, doesn't that chap ever get tired?

Madame, is she likely French prick,
yes?

No, no, madame.

The good Cartagena tickles the balls while
they suck.

Ah.

Oui, oui.

Fancy that.

He's complaining.

I resent that.

How can you stand by and let another man
fuck your wife?

Do something.

My dear fellow, what can I do?

I don't know a word of French.

Well, if that don't beat the cake.

Disgusting.

I guess I'll just stand here and watch
them do it for a while.

Well, why just imagine such nerve right
out here in public.

Makes me feel funny watching them.

Hey, what the hell?

Ah, those horrid things.

Why?

Wow.

So that's the attraction.

Yaoui.

Look at those two go.

Hot dog.

Can that baby fuck?

Oh, wow.

Now she's chewing on it.

Oh, wow.

Look at those two go.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Kiss me, daddy.

I'm coming.

Come on, baby.

Let's fuck again.

What?

Lesbians, but whoever
they were, they opened up

the eight page business
once again with a bang.

A rip-roaring explosion.

Of course, the little guy
overseas with the funny

mustache and chin
partner were raising hell.

But this country was too busy trying to
keep its teenagers from tearing up the

palace whenever a Woody Herman or a Tommy
Dorsey consented to make an appearance.

It all felt like the world
was riding a crest of a

wave and we were all
heading for one hell of a crash.

We did, too.

But that came later.

For at the moment, just fine
in the Sunday supplement

and in the gutters and back
alleys from coast to coast.

I'm Detective Richard Tracy.

Call me Dick.

Did you wish to see me?

Yes, Mr. Tracy.

I am Peter Doubt.

And I have every reason to believe that my
wife is leading a double life.

She's reached the stage where every sexual
approach on my part is repulsive to her.

I will spare no expense in this matter.

But, um...

I must know the facts.

Go to it, Dickie.

Hmm...

There she goes into that old bungalow.

I'll wait here till she gets in.

Then go over to that window and find out
who she meets there.

Well, honey, how did you manage to get
away from your man today?

Well, I'm supposed to be at a matinee.

Oh, hell.

I guess I'll have to get busy again.

I suppose you have a bad case of hot nuts.

And how.

That phony husband of mine was fooling
around with my snatch again.

And as usual, he couldn't get a hard on.

Come on, you know what I want.

Oh, Trixie.

Please don't tease me.

My cunt is burning up.

Come on, fuck me.

Wait till I get this thing tied on you
ornery bitch.

Ooh, Trixie.

Now, don't be selfish and go throw in your
lump.

I want a little satisfaction out of this.

Ooh, Trixie.

I'm coming.

Ah, Mr. Doubt.

I beg your pardon.

I want to report that your suspicions are
entirely unfounded.

Your wife has no paramour.

But if you would increase your domestic
happiness, I'd advise you to buy a wimpus.

Or a large dildo.

Or still better, take some lessons in
sucking cunts.

I said would you like to buy some rubbers?

Is that so?

No, no.

Rubbers.

Things you put on your prick when you jazz
for the fun of it.

Why don't you put lard and turpentine on
them?

That's what I use.

I had a bunch of them when I was with Lee
at Giddysburg.

Is there something I can do for you?

Grandfather is hard of hearing and I run
the store.

I was beginning to think there was
something wrong with me.

Yep.

The darn things are sure pesky at times.

They sure are.

Well, uh, you see, miss, I sell rubber
goods.

Oh, yes, I understand.

If you'll come into the office,
I'll talk to you.

I think we can use some.

Oh, have you any of those fancy French
things?

Better take my advice, sonny.

Put some lard and turpentine on those
critters.

You'll be rubbing yourself raw if you
don't.

Well, uh, these are genuine.

If I could only show you how they work.

You're okay.

Will they bust?

I've had a lot of complaints lately on
guys having none of them.

Well, what do you say?

Let's try it.

I'll use the one with the knobs on it.

It'll only take a few seconds.

I'm pretty quick on the trigger.

Oh, this is so sudden.

Well...

Beacon.

I'm pretty quick about it.

I mean, no funny stuff.

No head play.

Well, what do you say, kiddo?

Does that tickle or does that tickle?

Oh, gee.

It feels like an alligator has walked up
me.

Oh, take it easy.

That hurts.

Ow!

Ow!

Ow!

Don't yell in my fucking ear!

Ow!

Crap, a fucking broad's going nuts!

Ow!

Ah, you've taken my advice, honey.

And used the remedy.

Everything would have been okey-dokey.

Bullshit!

Yep.

They itch like hell.

I had it myself at 64.

Fuck!

Fuck!

God fucking damn it!

Seems there's something going on behind
that fence that's worthy of investigation.

What the hell do you want?

Oh, Bill, tell him you're fucking.

It slipped out.

Like nothing of the intrusion,
my lad.

I'm a past master at the proper science of
fucking.

Let me tell you of the time I was on one
of our diplomatic missions in Hawaii.

Oh, honey.

Don't hit him now.

Let's fuck.

Oh, let me just tag him once.

In the year of 1912, I
was sent to the islands to

arrange certain affairs
of state for my country.

I was a strapping fellow,
and while bathing, I came

upon a beautiful hula girl
whose name wasn't so odd.

The most beautiful dancer of her race.

T'was said that she danced every hour of
the day.

Entrenched by her dancing, I kept out of
sight until I was sure we were alone.

Unbeknown to myself, I
was raising a tremendous

heart on watching
her suggestive dance.

She quickly noticed, and dropping her
grass skirt threw herself into my arms.

To that primitive girl goes the credit of
giving me the greatest hard-on of my

professional career in fucking.

Would you believe that hard-on lasted for
three days without pulling it out once?

I screwed her for three
weeks at a time until I

was notified that my
country needed me at home.

I told her to leave, and the girl took it
philosophically enough.

For the week before my departure,
we fucked continually, day and night.

I've since learned from reliable sources
that for five years at periods of non-stop

she has given birth to twins, triplets,
and quadruplets.

All mine.

Don't hit him again, Bill.

You might kill the old fool.

Get up, you old windbag, and I'll knock
you out over that fence.

The train ran right through the crossing.

I nailed the boys twice for two hundred in
a stud game.

I think I'll squander it.

Come here, split tails.

Well, hi there, honey.

Well, young lady, what could you do for a
fellow with a few bucks and a hard-on?

Well, I guess I could use a couple of
bucks, and I know I can fuck you hard.

Class.

This is my father.

He owns the hotel.

Class.

Go ahead and register.

And give him a little tip, too.

What have you got for the night?

One double, ten scoots.

One double,

One double, Double, ten scoots.

The only thing double about this
upholstered toilet is the price.

Ah, don't be uphill.

Class.

Doesn't your father get angry when you
bring strange men up here?

Nah.

If you're ever around this vicinity again,
ask for me.

My name's Aspasia.

Well, it all depends on what the tariff is
for this session, love.

Sir, I'm only going to charge you
twenty-five bucks a bang.

What?

Hey, let me up before the bill gets any
higher.

Twenty-five dollars,
ten dollars for this flower,

for another twenty-five,
you're out of your mind!

And what did you say your name was?

Aspasia.

Mm-hmm.

And how are you, Aspasia?

Well, a girl has to live.

Mr. Howdy, Mr. Howdy!

There's a mouse in my room, but I can't
find...

Oh, Pippin!

Sure, lady!

Mice is my dish!

Wait on!

I'll follow!

Ye gods!

Look at that hole!

Did she say mouse?

Or moose?

Oh, hurry!

I'm so scared to death!

Get away!

Howdy to the rescue!

Oh, dear!

Do you suppose it could be in this hole?

Right buck!

Howdy!

That's what they call me!

I always get my varmint!

Oh, sweet!

Daddy!

You sure know how to use that weapon!

Now!

Once up the old dirt road to see if it's
all clear!

Whee!

Is that hole tight?

Oh!

Hot damn!

That's a silly place I'll live for a
while!

Don't quit now!

I'm just getting hot!

Let's quit looking for that silly mouse
and fuck!

Ye gods, Laney!

This is a six-shooter, not a machine gun!

Get up them stairs, young man!

There's a mouse in me drawers!

And you're gonna get it out!

You know, Mac was in a real dilemma.

He didn't want to get
drafted into the army because

the eight-page business
had really revived itself.

Besides, he wasn't too patriotic anyway.

Loyal to the country,
yes, but he just didn't

like the idea of
getting his ass shot off.

Drink!

Yes, thanks.

I never knew the eight pages had such a
history.

It's really very interesting.

Yes, I always thought so.

It's all a part of the history of
cartooning.

You'll know men were
first scratching out dirty

pictures when man first
started etching in his cave.

The ancient walls of
Pompeii are so strewn with

pornography that women
tourists aren't even allowed inside.

All the rest of the city fell
down, but the walls with

the dirty pictures and the
ancient penis stayed erect.

Is that the reason the walls were
preserved?

Oh, but I'll give you odds that Vida Can
Pi will outlast the Mona Lisa.

It's like a blast furnace in here.

So I guess that was the end of the eight
pager.

Yeah, they'd had it.

But the country was face to face with a
real problem.

Survive.

We went to war and the eight pager went
with it.

Our GIs left enough graphic pornography on
the walls of Europe to last a century.

But there were still a few bitter hangers
on.

And Mac was one of them.

He still couldn't get on with the
newspapers, but he still had to eat.

So he went back to the tried and true
winners of the past.

You know, Betty Boop was having something
of a revival.

And she was something familiar that the
country could hang on to.

Nobody even cared whether she had any
clothes on.

She was just a reminder of a pleasanter
past.

We won the war, we dropped the bomb,
and then we lost the peace.

And in less than 20 years,
the new generation just simply

pushed the old one aside
and told it to go fuck itself.

It didn't need the eight pagers to use its
imagination on.

It was out doing its own thing.

Making the eight pager look like
kindergarten time.

If there were any morals left, you had
to hunt in an old age home to find them.

All the stops were out again.

Middle aged and old men were letting their
hair grow down to their asses and

professed to be right on.

Nine year old fourth graders
were getting knocked up and

their fathers were taking
them to Tijuana for an abortion.

The country had finally flipped its gourd
and the gooey stuff they were stepping on

in the streets was what was left of their
brains.

Their morals had left them back in 39,
but Mac stayed right with it.

He kept on learning and his cartoons were
as lost as he was.

After all, the new generation didn't
really give a damn and the only ones who

did and could remember
nostalgically But for a moment,

Barney, Google and the
rest had a slight revival.

Tracy, here's an
assignment that some of the

best men in the department
have fallen down on.

It's a nasty reflection on our force that
none of them have been able to get the

goods on Maxine Dumont, international
smuggler and jewel thief.

She's easy to find and approach,
but they always come back as if they're

doing something and they're worthless
thereafter.

I'll bring her in.

I wish to see Maxine Dumont.

Why, Pat!

What are you doing here?

Well, uh...

Well, uh...

You see, uh...

Just investigating.

Another gendarme, Mimi.

Chose Monsieur Pat.

Out!

You will please step in, Monsieur Tracy.

I have heard much about you, mon Dieu.

And now, my fool, did you not know that no
man has ever resisted the great Maxine?

Ah, chérie.

I will fuck you, what you call simple.

You will be my slave, Monsieur Tracy.

Oh-ho-ho!

You think you're so clever.

Take off the best of ze clothes,
Monsieur.

Ah, mon cher, you are...

magnifique!

Where have you been all my life?

That is a beauty.

Not bad, eh?

Mmm...

At last I have found a man with a prick to
please me.

You shall never go away.

C'est de ça, mon cher.

Now, madame Miche!

It is all over.

Every time you get mad with big prick,
Mimi can go to hell.

But now ze worm is turned.

I will show the gendarme where Jules is
hid.

If he give me good fuck.

Comprendez-vous?

Okay, baby.

Don't believe her!

Hello, Chief.

Tracy talking.

We'll bring in madame Dumont with the
jewels in the morning.

We'll be very busy tonight.

I don't want to be disturbed.

And madame Big Time,
here's a free fucking

exhibition for you that's
going to last all night.

Trapped by little Mimi the maid,
eh?

Well, she won't lose out.

I need her in my business.

Hello

to that lifeguard.

Look at those fucking muscles.

Hello, big and handsome.

Wow!

Pickled meat for an anchovy.

Just a minute, gorgeous.

Who's the lucky stiff you're waiting for?

Hey, not so fast.

Let's find a cozy place up the beach.

Let's go, baby.

I'm just dying for some of this necking.

You!

You believe me.

Why not?

You might get a notion you don't like me,
so why waste time?

Come on, let's get the rest of this
bathing suit off.

Let's go to town, sugar.

Say, let me spank this uke and see if we
can get some rhythm into this.

My cat.

Whoops.

My cat.

Hey, that's a great idea, baby.

I can always spank better than music.

How abominable.

I wanna be loved by you, by you and nobody
else will do.

Ring-a-dang-do.

Repent, you fornicating sinners.

The day of judgment is at hand!

Do you know the Ten Commandments?

No, but if you hum a few bars,
I'll strum a few chords.

Poo-poo-poo-doop.

Poo-poo-poo-doop.

Poo-poo-poo-doop.

Poo-poo-poo-doop.

Poo-poo-poo-doop.

Poo-poo-poo-doop.

He's gone.

I bet I'll be in bed before you will,
dear.

I guess so.

How do you feel, baby?

Oh, I'm ripe for a good fucking deer.

Oh, I got hot and nuts this morning,
sweet me.

I can tell by the way it throbs.

It makes me hot all over.

Hey, lay off, baby.

You can suck it later.

I'll

have it for breakfast, dear.

Oh, baby.

Oh, baby.

Come on.

Come on, baby.

Oh, baby.

Come on.

Get set, baby.

I'll be with you in a sec.

Hurry!

Boy, what a target.

Oh, hurry, dear.

Let me see you ring the bell.

When I'm calling you...

Just lay down, baby.

Leave the rest to me.

Open the door, dear.

I got some important papers.

What the hell?

I repeat, Mrs. Brown.

If you don't pay your gas bill
immediately, I shall shit on your floor.

Where's my baby?

Move.

He's drunk.

I feel like a piece of that ass,
wife.

Get set.

Where's the bed, wife?

Over here, dear.

Yeah.

Wife, have you been cheating on me?

I see six feet in this bed.

Nonsense.

You're drunk.

Drunk?

Nothing.

I'll count them.

Shh.

Don't move.

One...two...three...four.

Now are you satisfied?

You're right.

And I must be drunk.

And I can only count four.

The idea of thinking I would cheat.

So long, baby.

Good morning.

I'm Dr. Fingalforte.

What's the trouble?

Well, Dr. Fingalfarter...

Uh, Dr. Fingalfreaker.

Dr. Fingalforte.

Dr. Fortyfinger.

Dr. Fingalforte.

Fortyfinger.

Dr. Fingaforte.

Fingerfucker.

Fingerforte.

Fingerfucker.

Forget it.

Fuck it.

Something's wrong.

I've been screwing my wife Toots here for
two years.

We're trying to have a baby.

I just can't seem to knock her up.

I don't know.

I do mind.

He blames me.

Well, Mr. Casper, sometimes it's the
woman.

And other times, it's the man.

But to get the thing settled, I want you
to fuck her over there on that couch.

And in two minutes, I'll give you the
answer, quick, like dog.

Come on, Casper.

I'm game.

Stop!

Wait.

Go northward.

Already I see the trouble.

Come on.

I'll be right back.

Oi, oi, oi.

Bit of prick like that, you couldn't knock
up a cockerel, Cheavan.

The only chance you got is a sympathetic
baby.

You mean synthetic, don't you,
doctor?

You see, she jerks you off and I catch it
in this jar.

And then, bit of atomizer, too.

I blow it up in her womb.

Boom!

Nine months later, he gives the baby.

Okay?

Doctor, it feels so good.

It hits just the right spot.

Oh boy, I got hot nuts.

It looks good enough to eat.

Doctor, you're darling.

You're darling.

They're leaving me out in the cold.

Oh, Doctor, that feels so good.

Pinky the cat.

When does he come into all of this?

It's going to be very difficult for me to
print the story you just told me.

You're right.

But then I always digress.

Look, I'll tell you what.

Why don't you come up with me to my
apartment?

And I'll fix dinner for the both of us.

And give you the whole story.

Okay?

Sounds great.

Only I'll fix the dinner.

Super!

He must have been quite a man,
your friend Mac.

I sure would have liked to have met him.

Who knows?

Yes, come in.

Craig Johnson?

Yes.

Yes, come in, please.

Delafields.

Silver and gold publications.

But of course.

Take a seat, please.

Warm, isn't it?

Well, I'm sorry.

The air conditioner broke down.

Always does in the heat wave.

Well, where do we start, Miss Fields?

Well, as you know, the
magazine would like to

lay out an article on
you and Pinky the cat.

Somewhere in the beginning would be good.

The beginning of Pinky or Pinky the cat?

Pinky or me.

They both make good stories.

However, Pinky the cat has been a
children's institution for over 25 years.

Maybe we should start with him.

Now, how was he born?

Oh, Pinky wasn't born.

He was sort of hatched.

Pinky was a bastard.

Now, that's not for publication.

Now, he was just an outgrowth of a period.

You might say he evolved out of the
gutter.

You want to clear that up for publication?

You were too young to remember that,
I suppose.

Well, let me put it another way.

I'll tell you the story of another
cartoonist in another time and era,

and maybe that'll clear Pinky up.

I don't suppose you remember the eight
pagers.

Eight pagers?

Well, our cartoonist
friend, Mac, shall we call

him, was what is known
today as a chauvinistic pig.

That is to say, he joined in on a great
adventure called the First World War.

It was a restless generation, anxious and
naive.

They were going to make the world safe for
democracy, apple pie, and mother.

They were the holdovers
for the Victorian era, where

profanity came in terms like
gosh, gee whiz, and fudge.

It was an era that obliged its men to take
their hats off to a lady.

It was also an era when ladies were
ladies.

But they had learned a lot of unusually
strange habits in France.

Drinking and women.

Both came free and
plentiful with that marvelously

uninhibited Gallic
quality of indifference.

Now they were home and they couldn't even
get a drink thanks to Mr. Volstead.

The guys just weren't going to stand still
for it.

You know what happened then.

A lot of whiskey and beer ran down the
gutters.

But when Uncle Sam busted
those barrels, he released

the last vestige of
American ethics with it.

And moonshine, speakeasies, Al Capone,
and the flapper all came pouring out.

With it, floating out of the public
conscience, went Queen Victoria.

All the stops was in.

A new era was in.

Mac, our cartoonist friend, was looking
for something to do.

He couldn't sell his cartoon character to
any of the syndicates.

It was all locked up.

He wasn't really set up
for boot-lagging, and he

was too much of an
artist to do anything else.

So he helped create the Eight Pager.

And what an abortion it was.

But what was the Eight Pager?

I thought you'd never ask.

Go ahead, take a look.

It won't bite you.

Oh, those.

Cold, dirty books, weren't they?

Well, now that's a misnomer.

Actually, they were really very good.

Dirt had nothing to do with it.

They were a satirization of the times.

Well, take this one, for instance.

Barney Google.

It was a popular comic strip of the times.

But it showed you just one side of the
man.

Now, look, the Eight Pager showed you the
more human and humorous side.

Hey, you're from Georgia, huh?

Yes, sir.

Aimed to buy that Brooklyn Bridge I've
been all reading about.

Got spot cash for it, too.

Psst.

Bite the runt.

Get Gertie and tell her it's a pushover.

And tell her to lay off the rough stuff.

These Southern guys are funny that way.

Tell her to twine and act like a lady.

Got you, boys.

That's the Countess Linschitz.

She comes in here every night for a vodka
cocktail.

Would you like to meet this broad?

A countess?

Would I, sir?

I'm a great admirer of ladies,
you know.

And a girl, Gertie.

He's going forward in a boat.

A big way.

It's a pipe dream.

Gertie, I mean Countess, I want you to
meet the great Bernard H.

Google of Georgia, etc., etc.

Ah, Mr. Google, I'm delighted.

I've heard a great many things about you.

Ah, I'm delighted to meet you,
I'm sure, Countess.

What do you say we go over to my
apartment, Mr. Google?

I have some wonderful brandy.

And we can be alone.

Now you're talking my language,
Countess.

What'd I tell you, Spike?

You fell for that Countess shit like a ton
of bricks.

I'm just crazy to hear about this
plantation of yours.

And about this bridge you're going to buy.

Now you're talking my language,
Countess.

What the tarnations matter?

I thought you was anxious to knock off a
chunk.

But gosh, that would kill a cow.

I'll just stick the tip in and let your
pussy nibble on it.

Oh, daddy's a dirtful.

Whoa,

must have gone in all the way.

I

hope it's Blondie home early.

Maybe we can knock off one before supper.

Hello, handsome.

I'm from the O.K.

Contraceptive Company.

How's about a demonstration of our
product?

My wife isn't home.

Now don't give me any sales resistance.

Because you're going to be just crazy to
buy my product.

But, lady.

My wife.

I simply put one of our tablets in the old
joy hole.

Then, without the slightest danger,
I jazz.

Uh-huh.

But we've always used rubbers.

Rubbers don't give me the satisfaction I
want.

But one gets when O.K.

tablets are used.

Why, it's just like washing your feet with
your salsa when you use a rubber.

Now, with O.K.

tablets... I'm full, ladies.

Say no more.

Oh.

Thanks for the fifty bucks, mister.

I hope your wife likes O.K.

If you're ever able to use them.

Oh, Dagwood.

I'm sorry I was gone so long, but I met
the nicest man at Lucy's.

He was selling a wonderful...
wonderful new contraceptive.

What?

You mean you bought a dozen?

Gee, honey.

I hope you won't think that I'm
extravagant.

What's this?

I caught him, your honor.

Parked on the main highway.

And screwing like jackrabbits.

He made me do it.

And what did you say your name was?

Etta Katt.

Remember, this is a very delicate matter.

I will hear the young lady's testimony in
my chambers.

You take charge of the young man,
O'Reilly.

Yes, sir.

Come with me, young lady.

Come, come.

Don't be bashful.

Tell me everything from the beginning.

I can understand.

I was a young man myself at one time.

Well...

Jimmy and I had been to a dance,
where we had several drinks.

And then, on the way home, he commenced
making love to me.

I didn't exactly object.

So he parked the car, and he turned out
the lights, and we was necking,

when he started feeling my legs.

And then, before I knew it, he had his
hand on my pussy.

Something like this, you say?

He can.

Huh?

And then, he stuck his finger in me.

I guess it felt too good for me to make
him stop.

Then, he opened up the front of his pants
and put my hand on something big and hot.

Then he made me straddle across his lap.

And... and...

Yes, yes.

Go right ahead.

Tell me every little detail.

Quick, tell me faster.

And then, he put that big thing right in
me, just like that, and pulled me down on

top of it.

Oh, I thought it would kill me at first.

But after a few seconds, it began to feel
good.

Faster.

You can't.

You can't.

You can't.

Oh, he's faster.

It felt so good.

I cried fast enough.

And then I felt something hot shoot in me.

And I thought I was going to pee.

And then I fainted.

Oh, George, me.

Faster.

He can.

He can.

Oh, but your honor, Jimmy didn't do that.

Oh, George, well, that feels so
goody-good.

Oh.

He can.

He can.

Good-bye, Judgey, dear.

Come on, Jimmy, let's go home.

Case dismissed.

But I want to warn you, O'Reilly,
about molesting innocent people.

Be good.

Well, I'll be.

But, Judge, who hit you in the nose?

I'll tell you what, Dixie, if you really
want to make a hit with Eddie,

just give a little fuck once in a while.

I've never done anything like that before.

I'd try it, but I don't know the first
thing about fucking.

Well, baby, you're in luck.

I was just downtown, and I had an
imitation prick.

As soon as I get some of these clothes
off, I'll show you what it's all about.

Now you spread out
while I get this phony

prickin' mustache on
and prepare to get raped.

Ooh!

Is it going to hurt?

You'll start off by kissing your tits like
this...

and fingering your cunt just to get you
into a fucking fight.

Hmm.

I like that.

Then, when he's got
you all hot and bothered,

he'll tip you over and
sneak it up your flue.

Oh, Dixie.

Oh, Dixie, I'm getting hot, too.

Put your hand on my cunt.

Oh, Dixie.

This is wonderful.

Now, Dixie, you put on this fake mustache
and prick and screw me for a while.

I will not.

You're the one who's the teacher.

You fuck me some more.

Okay, you selfish bitch.

Fuck you some more.

But you're going to eat a lot of pussy
while I'm doing it.

What'd you say, buddy?

Stay here for the show.

What's on your mind, Uncle Jay?

I got a deuce and a hard-on.

Let's do business.

Deuces are so scarce this season.

I'd screw a dozen marks for that much.

Sister, you can't handle a dozen shags
like I'm going to give you.

You must spend a lot of time in yanking
that thing to get it that big.

Oh, yeah?

Smart-cracking bimble, ain't you?

Well, let's see what you can do.

Hell, that ain't no cunt.

It's a corridor.

Say, when does that big-time fucking you
threatened me with start?

You shouldn't be dancing the coochie.

You should be in the side show.

It's the world's biggest gig.

Cash.

I'd like to know who it was who ripped
you.

You could fuck.

Hey, hey, hey!

Spread your legs out a little wider,
huh?

As far as I can.

What the hell are you trying to do?

Get your balls in there, too?

No, you simple bastard.

I'm trying to get them out.

It's warm in here, isn't it?

Anyway, Mr. Johnson, I still don't see the
connection between all of that...

and Pinky the Cat.

Well, there isn't.

Not yet.

Look, I was just trying to describe the
tenor of the times.

A lot of young potential cartoonists were
out in the street...

pounding away at the legitimate door,
only to be turned away.

Forced into things they may not have
liked, but helped them continue their art.

Look, I'm sorry about the heat in here.

Can I open the window?

No, thanks.

Well, anyway, what happened to our
fictitious cartoonist next?

Well, nothing.

He just kept on doing what he was doing.

The Depression hit with a fury now,
and if there was any chance for

cartoonists before... it dwindled away
to nothing after the stock market crash.

Yeah.

His hopes went down as fast as the ticker
tape results.

The country was
forced into a depression,

and with it all the
craziness of the decade.

College kids swallowed
goldfish and didn't

even ask for an
Alka-Seltzer to wash it down.

Some of them danced for endless hours for
the honor of winning a silver-plated cup.

..

and all the sandwiches they could eat in
the interim.

They weren't getting much to eat at home.

The country had skidded to rock bottom and
refused to bounce up again.

Mr. Ford came out with a $600 car,
and no one could afford to buy one.

And the chicken in every pot ended up by
people going to the local grocer...

and asking for a bone for the dog.

They got the bone for the dog.

But they brought it home and made bean
soup out of it.

Yet they had their moments.

Jigsaw puzzles, free ball games over the
radio.

Movies were big.

And every one of them followed the antics
of Moon Mullins and the Sunday Bunnies.

About that time, Mack
was approached by a New

York publisher to do
some eight-pagers for him.

Since Mack was starving with the rest of
the country, he accepted.

He used all of the currently accepted
popular cartoons of the time...

and worked them into popular eight-pagers.

In a short time, he was king.

He produced almost 45% of the books that
were printed.

A lot of them got mad as hell,
especially the authorities.

But no one was ever caught printing or
publishing a single copy.

His first endeavor was Moon Mullins.

Hmm, that looks like some sucker.

Hot dog, some class.

Hold it, miss.

You dropped your handkerchief.

Mullins is my name.

Just hands them to you.

Oh, how awkward of me.

Thank you, Mr. Mullins.

Dine sweet of you to invite me up here,
baby.

How much is the tax?

Tax?

Yeah.

What tax?

Why, Mr. Mullins, I really believe you
think I would take money.

Why, I like you.

That's why I won't take your money.

Well, then you want to give me my ring
back here?

No, that's a broad ring.

It's another broad.

That's a collar button.

That's a cuff link.

That's my ring.

How do you know it's your ring?

It's got my initials on it.

Golly, a piece of charity ass.

You race high with me, baby.

Let's do business.

Daddy, ooh.

That's some plunger you have.

Hot shit, boy.

Wiggle your ass, baby.

I'm going to give you a fuck you'll never
forget.

Daddy, I'm going to cum.

Give it to me.

Butterfly kid on moonshine couldn't take
it?

No.

You're not gonna get out of my house.

I thought you'd never get here.

Well, I hope this mug has more on it than
the last one did.

Get up and let me at it.

I'm too tired.

Come here.

I'll give you a job.

Kneel down.

Take that gum out of your bottle.

I'll put you on my staff of cocksuckers.

Someday you may be a big star.

Oh, thank you, sir.

I'll do my best.

Why, er, miss, my wife has told me that
you're four weeks behind in the room rent

and that she wants either the cash or the
room.

Oh, Mr. Hoople.

Why, yes, Mrs. Hoople has gone for the
day.

But that makes no difference.

I am lord and master in the house of
Hoople.

Oh, Major, I have a confession to make to
you.

Oh, Major, please don't think I'm a little
fool, but you'll never know how much I've

longed to have you take me in your arms
and love me to death.

You're so dignified and masterful.

Please, Major, kiss me.

Tuck-tick, little girl.

I know just how you feel.

Oh, my dear, you
are not the first to be

overcome by the masculine
beauty of a Hoople.

Oh, Daddy, please fuck me.

Hey, cat, girlie,
never let it be said that

a Hoople ever failed
a fair lady in distress.

No one can blame you, little girl.

Some of the world's most gorgeous women
have failed you.

I've fought over what I'm giving you,
Paragraphis.

What an imagination you've got.

Now, Major, you rest and I'll pump.

But don't you think we had better hurry
and get it over with?

We mustn't take too many risks.

Your wife might walk in on us.

But, well, that... I've yet to reach
climax.

Well...

Your little talk with the girl upstairs
did a little good, eh?

She paid up a month in advance.

Ah, yes, that's good, my love.

I was sure I could talk her into it.

Granted, Sluggy.

Hold the eyes.

Just so.

By Jove.

The bloody chap must be good if he can do
that.

Ah,

the pussy is sweet, madame.

Ah, a bully Frenchman.

My word.

Doesn't that chap ever get tired?

Madame, is she likely French prick,
yes?

No, no, madame.

The good cocksucker tickles the balls
while they suck.

Ah.

Oui, oui.

Fancy that.

He's complaining.

I resent that.

How can't you stand by and let another man
fuck your wife?

Do something!

My dear fellow, what can I do?

I don't know a word of French.

Well, if that don't beat the cake.

Disgusting.

I guess I'll just stand here and watch
them do it for a while.

Why, just imagine.

Such nerve.

Right out here in public.

Makes me feel funny watching them.

Hey, what the hell?

Ah, those horrid things.

Wow, so that's the attraction.

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Kiss me, Daddy.

I'm coming.

Come on, baby.

Let's fuck again.

What?

Lesbians, but whoever
they were, they opened up

the eight-page business
once again with a bang.

A rip-roaring explosion.

Of course, the little guy
overseas with the funny

mustache and chin
partner were raising hell.

But this country was too busy trying to
keep its teenagers from tearing up the

palace whenever a Woody Herman or a Tommy
Dorsey consented to make an appearance.

It all felt like the world
was riding a crest of a

wave, and we were all
heading for one hell of a crash.

We did, too.

But that came later.

For at the moment, just fine
in the Sunday supplement

and in the gutters and back
alleys from coast to coast.

I'm Detective Richard Tracy.

Call me Dick.

Did you wish to see me?

Yes, Mr. Tracy.

I am Peter Doubt.

And I have every reason to believe that my
wife is leading a double life.

She's reached the stage where every sexual
approach on my part is repulsive to her.

I will spare no expense in this matter.

But I must know the facts.

Go to it, Dickie.

I will be right there.

There she goes into that old bungalow.

I'll wait here till she gets in.

Then go over to that window and find out
who she meets there.

Well, honey, how did you manage to get
away from your own man today?

Well, I'm supposed to be at a matinee.

Oh, hell no.

I guess I'll have to get busy again.

I suppose you have a bad case of hot nuts.

And how.

That phony husband of mine was fooling
around with my snatch again.

And as usual, he couldn't get a hard-on.

Come on, you know what I want.

Oh, Trixie, please don't tease me.

My cunt is burning up.

Come on, fuck me.

Wait till I get this thing tied on,
you ornery bitch.

Ooh, Trixie.

Now, don't be selfish and go throwing your
lump.

I want a little satisfaction out of this.

Ooh, Trixie, I'm coming.

Ah, Mr. Doubt.

I beg to report that your suspicions are
entirely unfounded.

Your wife has no paramour.

But if you would increase your domestic
happiness, I'd advise you to buy a wimpus.

Or a large dildo.

Or, still better, take some lessons in
sucking cunts.

I said, would you like to buy some
rubbers?

Is that so?

No, no, rubbers.

Things you put on your prick when you jazz
for the fun of it.

Why don't you put lard and turpentine on
them?

That's what I use.

I had a bunch of them when I was with Lee
at Giddysburg.

Is there something I can do for you?

Grandfather is hard of hearing.

And I run the store.

I was beginning to think there was
something wrong with me.

Heh, yep.

The darn things are sure pesky at times.

They sure are.

Well, uh, you see, miss, I...

I sell rubber goods.

Oh, yes, I understand.

If you'll come into the office,
I'll talk to you.

I think we can use some.

Oh, have you any of those fancy French
things?

Better take my advice, sonny.

Put some lard and turpentine on those
critters.

You'll be rubbing yourself raw if you
don't.

Well, uh, these are genuine.

If I could only show you how they work.

Yuck, okay.

Will they bust?

I've had a lot of complaints lately on
guys having none of them.

Well, what do you say?

Let's try it.

I'll use the one with the knobs on it.

It'll only take a few seconds.

I'm pretty quick on the trigger.

Oh, this is so sudden.

Well...

Be quick about it.

I mean, no funny stuff.

No head play.

Well, what do you say, kiddo?

Does that tickle or does that tickle?

Oh, gee.

It feels like an alligator has walked up
me.

Oh, take it easy.

That hurts.

Oh!

Oh!

Oh!

Oh!

Oh!

Don't yell in my fucking ear!

Oh!

Oh!

Fuck them broads going nuts!

Oh!

Oh!

Ah, you've taken my advice, honey.

And used the remedy.

Everything would have been okey-dokey.

Bullshit!

Yep.

They itch like hell.

I had it myself at sixty.

You're the one who's got it.

And I've got it, too.

What the hell do you want?

Oh, don't you have a fucking word?

I've got it, I've got it.

Fuck this shit.

That's not what I mean.

I love the way you run.

You betcha.

Well, Ed, I'm gonna go to the library.

If you ever have a chance to talk to me,
come back to my one-night-long conference.

Go, go, go, go.

For your TV.

Mr. T.

Oh honey, don't hit him now.

Let's fuck.

Oh, let me just tag him once.

In the year of 1912, I
was sent to the islands to

arrange certain affairs
of state for my country.

I was a strapping fellow, and while
bathing, I came upon a beautiful hula girl

whose name was Zola, the most beautiful
dancer of her race.

T'was said that she danced every hour of
the day.

Entranced by her dancing, I kept out of
sight until I was sure we were alone.

Unbeknown to myself, I
was raising a tremendous

heart on watching
her suggestive dance.

She quickly noticed, and, dropping her
grass skirt, threw herself into my arms.

To that primitive girl goes the credit of
giving me the greatest hard-on of my

professional career in fucking.

Would you believe that hard-on lasted for
three days without pulling it out once?

I screwed her for three
weeks at a time, until I

was notified that my
country needed me at home.

I

told her to leave, and the girl took it
philosophically enough.

For the week before my departure,
we fucked continually, day and night.

I've since learned from reliable sources,
that for five years at period,

of nine months, she has given birth to
twins, triplets, and quadruplets.

All mine.

Don't hit him again, Bill.

You might kill the old fool.

Get up, you old windbag, and I'll knock
you out over that fence.

Ha!

The train ran right through the crossing.

I nailed the boys for 200 in a stud game.

I think I'll squander it.

Come here, split-tails.

Well, hi there, honey.

Well, young lady, what could you do for a
fellow with a few bucks and a hard-on?

Well, I guess I could use a couple of
bucks, and I know I can fuck you hard.

Class.

This is my father.

He owns the hotel.

Class.

Go ahead and register.

And give him a little tip, too.

What have you got for the night?

One double, ten scoots.

One double, ten scoots.

The only thing double about this
upholstered toilet is the price.

Ah, don't be uphill.

Class.

Doesn't your father get angry when you
bring strange men up here?

Nah.

If you're ever around this vicinity again,
ask for me.

My name's Aspasia.

Well, it all depends on what the tariff is
for this session, love.

Sir, I'm only going to charge you
twenty-five bucks a bang.

What?

Hey, let me up before the bill gets any
higher.

Twenty-five dollars,
ten dollars for this flower,

for another twenty-five,
you're out of your mind.

And what did you say your name was?

Aspasia.

And how are you, Aspasia?

Well, a girl has to live.

A girl has to live.

Mr. Howdy, Mr. Howdy.

There's a mouse.

A pippin.

Sure, lady.

Mice is my fish.

Wait on.

I'll follow.

Ye gods.

Look at that hole.

Did she say mouse or moose?

Oh, hurry.

I'm simply scared to death.

Get away.

Howdy.

I need her to rescue.

Oh, dear.

Do you suppose it could be in this hole?

Buck Howdy.

That's what they call me.

I always get my varmint.

Oh, sweet daddy.

You sure know how to use that weapon.

Oh, God.

Now.

Once up the old dirt road to see if it's
all clear.

Whee.

Is that hole tight?

Oh.

Hot damn.

It's a silly place I've been for a while.

Don't quit now.

I'm just getting hot.

Let's quit looking for that silly mouse.

And fuck.

He guards, Blaney.

This is a six shooter, not a machine gun.

Head up them stairs, young man.

There's a mouse in me drawers.

And you are going to get it out.

Now Mac was in a row.

A real dilemma.

He didn't want to get
drafted into the army because

the eight-page business
had really revived itself.

Besides, he wasn't too patriotic anyway.

Loyal to the country,
yes, but he just didn't

like the idea of
getting his ass shot off.

Drink.

Yes, thanks.

I never knew the eight pages had such a
history.

It's really very interesting.

Yes, I always thought so.

It's all a part of the history of
cartooning.

You'll know men were
first scratching out dirty

pictures when men first
started etching in his cave.

The ancient walls of
Pompeii are so strewn with

pornography that women
tourists aren't even allowed inside.

All the rest of the city fell
down, but the walls with

the dirty pictures and the
ancient penis stayed erect.

Is that the reason the walls were
preserved?

Oh, but I'll give you odds that Vatican P
will outlast the Mona Lisa.

It's like a blast furnace in here.

So I guess that was the end of the eight
pager.

Yeah, they'd had it.

But the country was face to face with a
real problem.

Survival.

We went to war and the eight pager went
with it.

Our GIs left enough graphic pornography on
the walls of Europe to last a century.

But there were still a few bitter hangers
on.

And Mac was one of them.

He still couldn't get on with a newspaper
syndicate.

But he still had to eat.

So he went back to the air.

He tried and true winners of the past.

You know, Betty Boop was having something
of a revival.

And she was something familiar that the
country could hang on to.

Nobody even cared whether she had any
clothes on.

She was just a reminder of a pleasanter
past.

We won the war, we dropped the bomb and
then we lost the peace and in less than 20

years the new generation
just simply pushed the

old one aside and
told her to go fuck itself.

They didn't need the eight pages to use
its imagination on.

It was out doing its own thing.

Making the eight pager look like
kindergarten time.

If there were any morals left you had to
hunt in an old age home to find them.

All the stops were out again.

Middle aged and old men were letting their
hair grow down to their asses and

professed to be right on.

Nine year old fourth graders were getting
knocked up.

And their fathers were taking them to
Tijuana for an abortion.

The country had finally flipped its gourd
and the gooey stuff they were stepping on

in the streets was what was left of their
brains.

Their morals had left them back in 39 but
Mack stayed right with it.

He kept on with the generation and his
cartoons were as lost as he was.

After all the new generation didn't really
give a damn and the only ones who did and

could remember nostalgically were so damn
old it really didn't matter.

But for a moment Barney Google and the
rest had a slight revival.

Tracy, here's an
assignment that some of the

best men in the department
have fallen down on.

It's a nasty reflection on our force that
none of them have been able to get the

goods on Maxine Dumont international
smuggler and jewel thief.

She's easy to find and approach but they
always come back as if they're doped or

something and they're worthless
thereafter.

I'll bring her in and...

I wish to see Maxine Dumont.

Why, Pat!

What are you doing here?

Well, you see...

Just investigating.

Another jambon, Mimi.

Chose Monsieur Pat.

Out!

You will please step in, Monsieur Tracy.

I have heard much about you, mon dieu.

And now, my fool, did you not know that no
man has ever resisted the great Maxine?

Ah, chérie.

I will fuck you.

Would you call simple?

You will be my slave, Monsieur Tracy.

You think you're so clever.

Take off the best of ze clothes,
Monsieur.

Ah, mon cher.

You are magnifique.

Where have you been all my life?

That is a beauty.

Not bad, eh?

Mmm...

At last I have found a man with a prick to
please me.

You shall never go away.

C'est de ça, Monsieur.

Now, madame, it is all over.

Every time you get mad with big freak,
Mimi can't go to hell.

But now ze worm is turned.

I will show Jean-Dame where Jules is hid
if he give me good fuck.

Comprendez-vous?

Okay, baby.

Don't believe me.

Si, pa.

Hello, chief.

Tracy talking.

We'll bring in madame Dumont with the
jewels in the morning.

We'll be very busy tonight.

I don't want to be disturbed.

And, madame big time,
here's a free fucking

exhibition for you that's
going to last all night.

Trapped by little Mimi the maid,
eh?

Well, she won't lose out.

I need her in my business.

Oh!

Hello to that lifeguard.

Look at those fucking muscles.

Hello, big and handsome.

Wow!

Pickled meat for an anchovy.

Just a minute, gorgeous.

Wow!

Pickled meat for an anchovy.

Who's the lucky stiff you're waiting for?

Hey, not so fast.

Let's find a cozy place up the beach.

Let's go, baby.

I'm just dying for some strenuous necking.

You, you believe me.

Why not?

You might get a notion you don't like me,
so why waste time?

Come on, let's get the rest of this
bathing suit off.

Let's go to town, sugar.

Let's go to town, sugar.

Say, let me spank this uke and see if we
can get some rhythm into this.

My cat... whoops.

My cat eyes, please.

Hey, that's a great idea, baby.

I can always fart better than music.

How abominable!

How abominable!

I wanna be loved by you, by you,
and nobody else will do.

Boop, boop, ba-doop.

Boop, boop, ba-doop.

Ring-a-dang-doo.

Repent, you fornicating sinners!

The day of judgment is at hand!

Do you know the Ten Commandments?

No, but if you hum a few bars,
I'll strum a few chords.

Boop, boop, ba-doop.

Boop, boop, ba-doop.

Boop, boop, ba-doop.

Ring-a-dang-doo.

Boop, boop, ba-doop.

Ring-a-dang-doo.

Ring-a-dang-doo.

Ring-a-dang-doo.

Ring-a-dang-doo.

He's gone.

I bet I'll be in bed before you will,
dear.

I guess so.

How do you feel, baby?

Oh, right for good fucking dear.

Oh, I got hot and nuts this morning,
sweet meat.

I can tell by the way it throbs.

It makes me hot all over.

Hey, lay off, baby.

You can suck it later.

I'll

have it for breakfast, dear.

Oh...

Oh, baby.

Oh, baby.

Come on.

Come on, baby.

Oh, baby.

Come on.

Get set, baby.

I'll be with you in a sec.

Hurry!

Boy, what a target.

Oh, hurry, dear.

Let me see you ring the bell.

Just lay down, baby.

Leave the rest to me.

Open the door, dear.

I got some important papers.

What the hell?

I repeat, Mrs. Brown.

If you don't pay your gas bill
immediately, I shall shit on your floor.

Where's my baby?

Move!

He's drunk.

I feel like a piece of that ass,
wife.

Get set.

Mom.

Where's the bed, wife?

Over here, dear.

Wife?

Have you been cheating on me?

I see six feet in this bed.

Nonsense.

You're drunk.

Drunk nothing.

I'll count them.

Shh.

Don't move.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Now are you satisfied?

You're right.

And I must be drunk.

I can only count four.

The idea of thinking I would cheat.

So long, baby.

Good morning.

I'm Dr. Fingelforty.

What's the trouble?

Well, Dr. Fingelfarter.

Uh, Dr. Fingelfrigger.

Dr. Fingelforty.

Dr. Fortyfinger.

Dr. Fingelforty.

Fortyfinger.

Dr. Fingelforty.

Fingerfucker.

Fingelforty.

Fingerfucker.

Forget it.

Fuck it.

Something's wrong.

I've been screwing my wife Toots here for
two years.

We're trying to have a baby.

I just can't seem to knock her up.

I don't know.

I do my part.

He blames me.

Well, Mr. Casper.

Sometimes it's the woman.

And other times, it's the man.

But to get the thing settled, I want you
should fuck her over there on that couch.

And in two minutes, I give you the answer.

Quick.

Like dog.

Come on, Casper.

I'm game.

This is funny.

Stop.

Wait.

Go no further.

Already I see the trouble.

Mr. piace.

Ay.

Little prickly dog.

You couldn't knock up a cockroach even.

The only chance you got is a sympathetic
baby.

You mean synthetic, don't you,
doctor?

Victorious.

You see?

She jerks you off.

And I catch it in this jar.

And then, with an atomizer too.

I have a baby, too.

I blew it up in her womb.

When nine months later, he gives us a
baby.

Okay?

Doctor, it feels so good.

It hits just the right spot.

Oh, boy, I've got hot nuts.

It looks good enough to eat.

Doctor, you darling.

They're leaving me out in the cold.

Oh, Doctor, that feels so good.

Pinky the cat.

When does he come into all of this?

It's going to be very difficult.

It's going to be very difficult for me to
print the story you just told me.

You're right.

But then I always digress.

Look, I'll tell you what.

Why don't you come up with me to my
apartment?

And I'll fix dinner for the both of us.

And give you the whole story.

Okay?

Sounds great.

Only I'll fix the dinner.

Super.

He must have been quite a man,
your friend Mac.

I sure would have liked to have met him.

Who knows?

He's by his side... Who knows?

...when he calls...

Mac's son.

I only

need some of your help.

I just want you to come and take care of
my son?

I know who he is.

And you won't be able to see him.

But it's all right.

I know who he is.

He's a man and a woman.

Another time, you'll find me in a vein and
ask if you can stay and play along.

Your

heart will sing the music that I'm hearing

to answer all the questions in my eyes.

Another time, you'll
lift your head and see a

sky that beckons you
to try all things at last.

Another time has come.

Another time has passed.

Another time has come.

Another time, the words I'm saying now
lose their meaning.

Because by then, we'll shake it up again.

I hope they dream and run to me.

To blindly ask.

To blindly ask.

What's on my mind.

Another time, you'll find me in a vein and
ask if you can stay and play along.

But another time has come.

Your

heart will sing the music that I'm hearing
to

answer all the questions in my eyes.

You'll lift your head and see a sky that
beckons you to try all things at last.

But

another time has come.

Another time has passed.

Another time, the words I'm saying now
lose their meaning.

Another time, the words I'm saying now
lose their meaning.

You'll lift your head and see a sky that
beckons you to try all things at last.

But another time has come.

Another time has passed.

Another time, the words I'm saying now
lose their meaning.

And ask if you can stay and live alone
What unknown time has come Your

heart to sing the music that I'm hearing

To answer all the questions in my eyes

You lift your head and see a sky that
beckons you to try all things at last The

time has come.

Another time has passed.

Another time.

The words I'm saying now, lose their
meaning.

Because by then, we'll shake it up,
but now I'm only dreaming.

Ladies and gentlemen, number 614.

And repeat after me.

Our National Axiom.

President Monday.

Lending.

From inspection.

Lending transactions.

Asked security responsibility.

People and legislation.

Safety East.

Vital jobs.

Guarded federal field.

Thank you, God.

Thank you, God.

For the children lost.

Please forgive me.

I should fall.

Please forgive

me.

Number 614.

And repeat after me.

Our National Axiom.

President Monday.

President Monday.

Lending.

From inspection.

Lending transactions.

Asked security responsibility.

People and legislation.

Safety East.

Vital jobs.

Guarded federal field.

And... For

the children lost.

And repeat after me.

Our President Monday.

Lending.

From inspection.

Lending transactions.

Asked security responsibility.

People and legislation.

Safety East.

Vital jobs.

Guarded federal field.

Would you like to go?

Would you like to go back to the land?

Electric guitars.

Blood into the stars that shine.

For you and I.

Your twinkling eye invites me to bring
you.

Would you like to go?

Would you like to go?

Would you like to go?

Would you like to go back to the land that
you and I once knew?

Would you like to go?

Would you like to go back to the land that
you and I once knew?

You and I want new posts.

Sing Hallelujah with portable phonographs.

Made in Japan.

Selling for less.

And calling me to you.

Would you like to go?

Would you like to go?

Would you like to go?

Would you like...

Would you like to go?

Ba ba ba ba ba

ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba
ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba

ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba
ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba

ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba
ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba

ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba
ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba

ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba
ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba

ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba
ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba

ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba
ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba

ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba
ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba

ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba
ba ba ba Would you like to go?

Would you like to go back to the land that
you and I once knew?

Where prophets play electric guitars, flood
into the stars that shine for you and I.

Your twinkling eye invites me to bring
you...

Would you like to go?

Would you like to go?

Would you like to go?

Would you like to go back to the land that
you and I once knew?

Would you like to go?

Would you like to go back to the land that
you and I once knew?

A little pause...

and we are back.

Would you like to go?

Would you like to go back to the land that
you and I once knew?

Would you like to go?

Would you like to go back to the land?

Electric guitars plugged into the stars
that shine for you and I.

Your twinkling eye invites me to...

We are with more

hands selling for less.

And calling me to you.

Would you like to go?

Would you like to go?

Though

I started to begin us all.

I hope it won't take long.

Would you like to go

back to the land?

Would you like to go back to the land?

Electric guitars plugged into the stars
that shine for you and I.

I hope

it won't take long.

Would you like to go back to the land?

Electric

guitar plugged into the stars that shine
for you and I.

A light

shimmering o'er, to some misty blue,
we

saw you,

fleeting with each passing moment,
two drops in the sun, to

some misty blue, still you follow me,
standing by my side.

It all happened so many years ago,
nobody knows, cause nobody wants to know,

Boba Boba and the girls
in his side, they're the

founding members, the
leaders of the land, it's very sad.

Life they should spend, all of it,
it should end.

Flossie Phillips, she has just been born,
so has Hector, and Bentley, Percy,

Paul, when they're
forgotten, who'll take their

place, another Flossie,
with a different face.

It's very sad, life they should spend,
all of their lives.

Lady Chernee, could

see, the loneliness surrounds me, if I
could go, to stay at $50 drum roll, roll.

As we leave then, the band plays us a
tune, there's Dennis on the xylophone,

Bessie on the suit.

You'll never believe it, what I have got
to say, the tales of Flossie Phillips,

all happened in a day.

It's very sad, life they should
spend, and it should end.

Flossie Phillips, it's time for her to go.

To say goodbye to moon, the loon,
the dinner in Dotidos.

And don't forget the little
man who couldn't pronounces

his name, Tommy Quilo,
6fts to a Sprint, he's on a train.

Johnny Two-Gurts in a
cab and it's going round and

round, Gianni Martins
in a grit in going up to等.

Anita Grey, Pat and Dave,
come to take a bow, or our

babe to stay to face, who's
really, we don't know how.

tours about the face all our family,
we sit every day.

He is there, plus there every night.

Up to the skies He is thinking of his
flying machine

In his flying machine When he disappears
from you He's being very naughty

When he's flying, the sheep are falling

to the sea, in his flying, when he's
flying, in his flying, the sheep,

coming down onto the ground, he's feeling
very crazy.

Looks around, takes off again, oh, mazy
modern daisy, as he flies up to the sky.

He's thinking of his flying machine,
he's thinking of his flying machine,

he's thinking of his flying machine,
in his flying.

I'll never see you again We let her go
I'll never see her I'll never see her

Since the saxophone Since the saxophone

She wears a pink and yellow spotted dress
She never looks a mess Yes, she always

dresses smartly, her dolly dolly hair is
backing at the noose, on saxophonies,

it's magnificently divine, I know,
I'll never see her again, we let her go,

I'll never see her, I'll never see her,
since the saxophone.

Since the saxophone.

We let her go, I'll never see her,
I'll never see her, since the saxophone.

Since the saxophone.

Come on, get yourself together.

They came at one o'clock, went at three,
didn't bother to notice me.

As they left, they gave me a note,
on at the nice Inspector Road.

53 Summer Street will never be the same.

53 Summer Street will never be the same.

53 Summer Street will never open again.

Again.

The club is empty, now everyone's gone.

I should have closed it, I was so wrong.

Tables are empty, I cry on the floor.

Nobody's laughing about anymore.

53 Summer Street will never be the same.

53 Summer Street will never open again.

Again.

I wanna be free again.

It's good to be free.

I want to laugh at the rain.

I wanna be free again.

It's good to be free.

So I can laugh.

They've come to get me, now I feel so low.

Now it seems that I've got to go.

As I leave, the club feels so cold.

When I get out, I'll be much too old.

53 Summer Street will never be the same.

53 Summer Street will never open again.

Again.

Again.

53 Summer Street Will never be the same.

53 Summer Street Please

don't listen to me.

That's what I know.

If I Paris forgets If I Paris forgets I
want everybody to see that a man,

sometimes be happy, sometimes be sad.

Oh, the sea shines over her body,
the sea shines over her world,

the sea shines over her crying, then it
has happened and there's no other way.

Some are still laughing, some ain't so
sure, they can remember what went before.

The blackness was
with us and then it was

gone, the way we are
going, it won't be long.

Oh, the sea shines over her body,
the sea shines over her world,

the sea shines over her crying, then it
has happened and there's no other way.

We are one.

Laugh at the sun.

We are one of the few.

The circles are closing in on the squares,
the way we are going will soon be there.

Oh,

the sea shines over
her body, the sea shines

over her world, the sea
shines over her crying,

then it has happened and there's no other
way.

We are one.

Oh, the sea shines over her body.

The sea shines over the world.

The sea shines over her crying.

Then it has happened and there's no other
way.

Sunshine...

And they're all playing cricket and they
don't know what they see.

Doves come fast, shy as a reef.

They're only playing cricket on the little
village tree.

Yes they are, yes they are.

They're all playing cricket on the little
village tree.

Horse and pine, that's all they seem to
be.

Smart and respectable in every fine
degree.

Where are they going?

They think they've gone on a thrill.

They're only playing cricket on the little
village tree.

Yes they are, yes they are.

And the world wants to know.

Bob and Pop and the girls in the sand.

They're the founding members, the leaders
of the land.

It's very sad.

Life they should spend.

All our lives.

Let it should end.

Flossie Phillip, she has just been born.

So has Hector and Bentley Percy Pong.

When they're forgotten, who'll take their
place?

Another Flossie with a different face.

It's very sad.

Life they should spend.

All our lives.

Let it should end.

They could see.

The loneliness surrounds me.

If I could go.

To stay at Fifteen, I'll chum roll.

Roll.

I

just believe then the band plays us a
tune.

There's Dennis on the xylophone.

Bessie on bassoon.

You'll never believe it.

What I have got to say.

The tales of Flossie Phillip.

All happened in a day.

It's very sad.

Life they should spend.

Let it should end.

Flossie Phillip.

It's time for her to go.

Say goodbye to Moon Malone.

And dinner in Dr. Dose.

Don't forget the little man.

Who couldn't pronounce his name.

Tommy Kilo, six foot two.

Spent his on a train.

Johnny Tugert in a cab.

And going round and round.

Gianni Mattis in a carrot.

And going up to two.

Anita Gray, Pat and Dave.

Have come to take a bow.

All our thanks to Space the Face.

Who did it, we don't know how.

It's Flossie Phillip.

Evan Ray, Jonah Jim.

Bill the coat as well.

It's Flossie Phillip.

Marigold, pink and silver.

Baptist ringing the bell.

It's Flossie Phillip.

La, la, la, la, la, la.

As he goes up to the sky.

He's sinking off his bogey.

She is waiting on the ground.

In the 1940s.

As he flies.

Up to the skies.

He's sinking off his flying machine.

He's sinking off his flying machine.

He's sinking off his flying machine.

In his flying machine.

When he disappears from you.

A little pause.

..

and we are back.

A little pause... and we are back.

A little pause... and we are back.

A little pause... and we are back.

A little pause... and we are back.

A little pause... and we are back.

A little pause.

.. and we are back.

A little pause... and we are back.

A little pause... and we are back.

A little pause... and we are back.

A little pause... and we are back.

A little pause...

and we are back.

A little pause... and we are back.

She shines over her crying Then it has
happened And there's no other way

Some are still laughing Some ain't so sure
They can remember What went before The

blackness was with us And then it was gone
The way we are going, it won't be long.

Oh, the sea shines over her body.

The sea shines over the world.

The sea shines over her crying.

And it has happened, and there's no other
way.

We are one.

Laugh at the sun.

We are one of the few.

The circles are closing in on the squares.

The way we are going will soon be there.

In time we have finished.

We don't understand.

The kids are still happy.

They're playing in the sand.

Oh, the sea shines over her body.

The sea shines over the world.

The sea shines over her crying.

And it has happened, and there's no other
way.

Oh, the sea shines over her body.

The sea shines over the world.

The sea shines over her crying.

And it has happened, and there's no other
way.

The sun shines over the world.

It has happened, and there's no other way.

As far as we know, they share what weiesen
don't need.

Christmas!

It might happen... Remember
the sea shines over the rest of us.

The sky shines over the white earth.

It shines over the whole universe.

It shines over the stars.

It shines, and it shines over the moon.

Where are they going?

They think they're gonna grill.

They're only playing cricket on the little
base green.

It all

happened so many years ago.

Nobody knows, cause nobody wants to know.

Bob and Pop on good old Sydney side.

They're the founding members, the leaders
of the land.

It's very sad.

Life they should spend.

All of their pain should end.

Flossie Phillip, she has just been born.

So has Hector and friendly Percy Pond.

When they're forgotten, who will take
their place?

Another Flossie with a different face.

It's very sad.

Life they should spend.

All of their lives.

Let it turn out.

They could see.

The loneliness surrounds me.

If I could go.

To stay at $50.

I'll try and grow.

Grow.

Ice relief then.

The band plays us a tune.

There's Dennis on the xylophone.

Bessie on bassoon.

You'll never believe it.

What I have got to say.

The tales of Flossie Phillip.

All happened in a day.

It's very sad.

Life they should spend.

All.

Let it turn out.

Flossie Phillip.

It's time for her to go.

Say goodbye to Moon Malone.

And dinner in Dr. Dose.

Don't forget the little man.

Who couldn't pronounce his name.

Tommy Kilo six foot two.

Spent his on a train.

Johnny Tugert in a cab.

And going round and round.

Gianni Mattis in a kilt.

And going up to two.

Anita Gray, Pat and Dave.

Who've come to take a bow.

All our fakes just face to face.

Who did it we don't know how.

Bill and Ray Jonah Jim.

Bill the coach as well.

Mara Gawthick and Sylvan.

Bats are ringing the bell.

La la la la la la.

La la la la la la.

As he goes up to the sky.

He's thinking of this bogey.

She is waiting on the ground.

In the 1940s.

As he flies.

Up to the sky.

He's sinking off his flight machine.

He's thinking of this flying
machine He's thinking

of this flying machine
In his flying machine

When he disappears from view He's being
very naughty Showing off his loo To the

colonel and his country As he flies up to
the skies He's sinking off this flying

machine In his flying
machine A little pause.

.. and we are back.

A little pause... and we are back.

In his flying, when he's flying.

My dearest sister's saxophone is gone.

Oh, she won't be long, she's got her brown
new boots on.

She's taken the 11.30 boot and bus.

She never offered us a chance to disperse
later.

I know I'll never see you again.

We let her go.

I'll never see her, I'll never see her.

Since the saxophone.

Since the saxophone.

Since the saxophone.

She

wears a pink and yellow spotted dress.

She never looks a mess, she always dresses
smartly.

Her dyed gold hair is back in.

She's got the hoops.

Oh, saxophone, she sings magnificently
divine.

I know I'll never see her again.

We let her go.

I'll never see her, I'll never see her.

Since the saxophone.

Since the saxophone.

Oh, oh, oh.

Oh, oh, oh.

Oh, oh, oh.

Come

around to see her off.

The short, but hairy top.

The label on the table.

As she goes, she slips and slides and
breaks her nose.

And even all the roses grow in our window.

I'll never see her again.

We let her go.

I'll never see her, I'll never see her.

Since the saxophone.

Since the saxophone.

Come on, get yourself together.

They came at one o'clock, went at three.

Didn't bother to notice me.

As they left, they gave me a nod.

53 Summer Street will never be the same.

53 Summer Street will never open again.

Again.

The club is empty, now everyone's gone.

I should have closed it, I was so wrong.

Tables are empty, I cry on the floor.

Nobody's laughing about anymore.

53 Summer Street will never be the same.

53 Summer Street will never open again.

Again.

I wanna be free again.

I want to laugh at the rain.

I wanna be free again.

So I can laugh.

They've come to get me, now I feel so low.

Now it seems that I've got to go.

As I leave, the club feels so cold.

When I get out, I'll be much too old.

53 Summer Street will never be the same.

53 Summer Street will never open again.

Again.

53 Summer Street.

53 Summer Street.

53... I

want everybody to gather around.

They should be thinking they might be
proud.

54 Summer Street will never be the same.

I want everybody to see that a man
sometimes be happy, sometimes be sad.

55 Summer Street will never be the same.

Oh, the sea shines over her body.

The sea shines over her world.

The sea shines over her crying.

Then it has happened and there's no other
way.

Some are still laughing, some ain't so
sure.

They can remember what went before.

The blackness was with us and then it was
gone.

The way we are going, it won't be long.

Oh, the sea shines over her body.

The sea shines over the world.

The sea shines over her crying.

Then it has happened and there's no other
way.

Then it has happened and there's no other
way.

We are one life at the sun.

We are one of the few.

The circles are closing in on the squares.

The way we are going will soon be there.

In time we have finished, we don't
understand.

The kids are still happy, they're playing
in the sand.

Oh, the sea shines over her body.

The sea shines over the world.

The sea shines over her crying.

Then it has happened and there's no other
way.

Oh, the sea shines over her body.

The sea shines over the world.

The sea shines over her crying.

Then it has happened
A little pause.

..

and we are back.

A little pause... and we are back.