Posts Tagged ‘rattlesnakes’


Drop-Kicked Out Of Dogbad

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1. Interior: Dogbad Saloon in the late afternoon.
Here we meet the Saloon Landlord, former Olympian bronze medalist
Theodore Simon Alvin David “Discus Ted” O’Neil. Discus Ted wastes
no words in simultaneously describing his mood and his moniker:
“I am Discus Ted. You are scaring my patrons.” These remarks are
directed on the endeaffened ears of Señors Hsss and Hoss, who have
lowered their consciousness by toasting and drinking each other
into a solemn stupor.
2. Having partook Discus Ted’s micro-brewing, Hsss & Hoss
experience his macro-bouncing. This isn’t the first time he’s
drop-kicked them both out, and it won’t likely be the last.
3. Refuse is hurled to underline the point.
4. Hsss & Hoss consider the awakening a coarse one.
Hsss: “Talk about non grata!” Hoss: “How, very, very rude!”
5. Señor Hsss examines his soiled and crushed sombrero.
He sees right away it will require expensive re-blocking.
What an inconvenience! He may have to send it abroad.
What will he wear? It’s the only hat he’s got.
Señor Hoss asks: “Where to now?” It’s getting late.
6. It doesn’t take Hsssy long to think of a plan:
“Less goap the mountain and wash the sun sit!”
7. Hoss thinks this is a Boney Day and says so. Pleased with
his idea, Señor Hsss congratulates himself: “Farm Edible!”
8. The sum is sitting in the distant maghreb, but it may as well
sit right on top of Señors Hsss and Hoss as they pass beyond
the town’s outer limits. If they notice the notice posted by Dogbad
Sheriff D D Divtag, we don’t notice:
“DON’T LET THE SUN SET ON YOU HERE, REPTILE.”


Purple Pee

On their way home from the mountains Senor Hsss has to urinate…every five minutes! As if that weren’t bad enough, he’s not just peeing, he’s peeing purple, with little gold flecks. Senor Hoss is markedly unsympathetic.

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1.Senor Hsss is staring from behind a boulder. He flicks his tongue as his snake eyes burn through you.
“SSSSSSSSSSSSSS!”

2.Senor Hsss is grimacing and straining- streams of purple droplets spray the rock:
“SSS…SSSS…SSS!”

3.Senor Hsss has finished peeing on the rock. He is disturbed by what he sees- his urine has turned a bright purple, flecked with gold!

4.He yells to Senor Hoss standing nearby. “HOSS- Lookee here!” Hoss: “I don’t want to look!” Hsss:”NO, listen! Every time I pee-”

5.Hoss interrupts: “YOU, PEE? Snakes pee?” He continues in a sarcastic tone of voice. “I never knew that. Thanks for sharing.” “NO” exclaims Senor Hsss, “Hossy, this is serious.”

6.Hssy continues,”Ever since we came off the mountain for the last couple of days I’ve been peeing PURPLE… with little gold flecks”.
His concern is evident.

7.Senor Hoss stands silently regarding this development. Senor Hsss is worried- he looks up at Senor Hoss,
hoping his equine friend will proffer some good solution.

8.Senor Hoss has a sudden Eureka: “Lets head for the ASSAY OFFICE!”


Dogbad 17 Tajectory is my middle name!

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1.Señor Hsss remains locked inside the outhouse (see episode 16). He’s tried everything he could to get out. There’s a small crescent-shaped air hole in the locked door. He’s much too large to fit through the hole in the door; he only hurt his nose when he tried. Suddenly Hsss conceives a desperate gambit: if he receives enough JPEG COMPRESSION, maybe, just maybe, hecan squeeze through that hole! He turns toward the readers: “Did you locate the jpeg settings? See where it says “IMAGE OPTIONS”- PULL IT TO THE LEFT TO ABOUT ’6′.

2.Señor Hsss gets compressed- he’s gone all fuzzy. “THERE- That’s more like it!”

3.”Here goes!” Hsss takes aim and leaps at the small sliver of blue shining through the hole. “P-P-H-P-P-H-PP-PP-H-T-T-t-T-t-T-T-t-t-t!!” He hits the door hard.

4.”NGNGN!! NNNN!” Señor Hsss has managed to squeeze about halfway through. “I- NEED- MORE- COMPRESSION!”

5.Hsss sags in exaustion: “OWwwLLrrRAaghhu….,” he moans,”It’s still not enough.” Again he appeals to someone, anyone who is reading this strip.”Take her down to ’1′.”

6.He pulls again with all his might. “POP”- Suddenly, he is sailing through the sky above the town!

7.Señor Hsss soars through the air above the town of Dogbad! “WHEE! Trajectory is my middle name! I must be higher than Charlie Sheen!”


Dogbad 18 – Return of the Snake Shaman

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1. “I’m losing altitude!” Señor Hsss says to himself, as he begins to fall from orbit. Having popped through the hole in the outhouse door with all the force of his serpentine muscles (snakes are strong!), he propelled himself, projected high above the town of Dogbad. It’s a magnificent view, while it lasts.

2. There below, in the dirt and dust of Dogbad High Street, Señor Hoss, the Debbil and Kit McKlaw stare amazed as their scaly friend rapidly approaches from above. Señor Hsss gives a polite warning: “”Lookout below!”

3. Predictably, Señor Hsss crashes to earth with a large Don-Martinese sound: “THOOONT!”

4. “Just call me ‘Tory’”, quips the compressed Hssster. If Trajectory is his middle name, he’s a tragic Tory in a Majick Story.

5. Suddenly, a heavy wheeled object ZOOMs past, mussing everyone’s fur, scales,and stubble.

6. “WHAT the DUESENBERG was THAT?”, they ask. They are taken by surprise, but they got the ‘make’ right. Amidst wind, dust and fumes a 1930 Duesenberg speeds down the High Street toward the newly-expended and expanded Golden Derivative Guaranteed Safe Gulag Gambling casino. Neither Hsss, nor Hoss nor McKlaw has ever set foot in this notorious establishment. As for mesure le Diable, they wouldn’t hazard to guess.

7. Stopping in front of the main entrance we see the dapper figure of the Snake Shaman stepping out with his date, the glamorous Miss Condomleeza Cobra.

8. The quartet stand mute for a moment before they recognize the Snake Shaman. Señor Hsss is lost for words. “It’s the Shaman!”, exclaims Kit. “What’s he doing THERE?”, wonders Hoss. Perhaps we’ll find out…


Dogbad 19 – Meet Mister Duckbutter

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1. Señor Hsss is rattling with excitement over the unexpected sight of his serpent-guru, the Snake Shaman. “We’ve got to see the Shaman- He’ll help us! He knows EVERYTHING!” “Oh, really?”, replies Kit McKlaw. Kit’s not so sure. He’s had dealings with the Shaman once before, and regards him as little more than a cranky old fool who’s spent too much time in the sun. Hoss is ambivalent, and looks askance. The Debbil just looks.

2. Señor Hoss speaks his equine mind: “I do not share your abiding faith in that shaggy shamanist, my serpent friend, but I’m game for anything if it will remove this unsightly blemish.” He points his hoof at the execrable attachment on his back, and the Debbil responds with a razzle-berry in Hoss’s direction. How could an entity so old act so immature?

3. The contradistinctive quartet approaches the front entrance to the Golden Derivative Guaranteed Safe Gambling Casino. The polished, oversized double doors are guarded by a thin, over-dressed doorman. An obnoxiously obsequious creature, one Mister Herschel Duckbutter, snaps to attention and robotically dribbles out what is perhaps the slimiest expression in contemporary language: “May I help you?” “Yes-” replies Señor Hsss, “We’re meeting someone” continues Hoss, “Inside” finishes McKlaw.

4. Mister Duckbutter gleefully recites his well-rehearsed, opprobrious address: “I’m terribly sorry, sirs- we DO have a dress code for the gentlemen. Please feel free to visit our website for full details.”

5. Our boys do not resond well to this approach. “Why that prissy little high-toned jimcrack-!” seethes Hsss. “I’d like to stomp his girlfriend’s pet gerbil. We’re ten times badder than this phony fag bar.” “Cool your scales, Hissy-” replies Kit, “we’ll show ‘em OUR dress code.” McKlaw has no time for gerbils. Neither of them have a moment to waste trying to imagine what a Duckbutter’s girlfriend would look like, if he had one.

6. Kit and Hsss step around back of the building where a steady traffic of workers and over-loaded linen trolleys moves in and out of the hotel’s steamy laundry complex. “There are other ways to gain entry” observes Kit McKlaw.

7. Inside the casino, upstairs, a dangerous looking pair of serpent gunsels guards the door of a private room, in which a high-stakes poker game is about to be underway.

8. At the head of the table sits the smiling Snake Shaman, his girl on his arm as he proffers a fresh deck of cards to his off-camera opponent: “Here- you deal.”


Dogbad 20 – Dogs Who Play Poker!

Upstairs at the Golden Derivative Guaranteed Safe Gambling Casino, in a private room, Dogbad’s baddest high rollers are facing off and knuckling down in a high-stakes poker game.

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1. Upstairs at the Golden Derivative Guaranteed Safe Gambling Casino, inside a heavily-guarded private room, Dogbad’s baddest high rollers are seated around a large green felt-covered gaming table. To our left among them we see Doug Dieu Henri (pronounced “dog-doo on rye”), a bestial gambler whose malevolent gaze intimidates anyone who dares make eye contact.

2. To our right sits the owner and proprietor of the Dogbad Saloon, “Discus Ted” O’Neil, spiffed out in his most costliest powder-blue silk suit. Discus Ted is stylin’! He’s dressed to win.

3. Mostly ignoring the rest of the players are the twins Harmine and Telepathine, joint heiresses to the Silly Water patent medicine fortune.

4. Further up the table we see the old-money cattle baron and railroad tycoon, hedge-fund hobbyist Benton Flush. Mister Flush is keeping his own counsel while he dominates the room, playing his cards close to his chest.

5. Dogbad’s foul-tempered Sheriff D.D. Divtag sits drinking and smoking a sour-smelling cigar.

6. Most deadly of all is dangerous Daring Daylight- the slickest poker player this side of the far east.

7. Discus Ted goes head-to-head with Mister Benton Flush: “I’ll bet four hundred dollars.” Mister Flush is equal to any challenge. “I’ll see it and raise you five hundred.”

8. Daring Daylight makes her move: “I can match your bets, gentlemen, and raise it by 1000 sestertii, two Swiss franks (sic), a Faberge egg, and this 22-karat signed, cuneiform first edition Song of Gilgamesh.”


Dogbad 21 – Farced Entry

Kit McKlaw and Señor Hsss sneak in through the laundry chute!

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1. Kit McKlaw and Señor Hsss are searching for a way to reach the Snake Shaman. They know he’s somewhere inside the Golden Derivative Guaranteed Safe Gambling Casino, and they must talk to him! That obnoxious doorman Mr Duckbutter has barred them from entry, so they will find their way by sneaking ’round the back. Deep within the bowels of the casino’s hotel laundry complex, Kit and Señor Hsss secret themselves inside an industrial-sized load of foul-smelling, badly-soiled linens.

2. Kit locates the laundry chute. He struggles up the chute several floors and strains to squeeze himself through the opening. He’s not sure what floor he’s on.

3. Señor Hsss slithers up the cramped passage, following close behind his feline companion. Kit observes some activity at the far end of the hall: “That must be where he is!” he points it out to Señor Hsss.

4. McKlaw and Hsss survey the far end of the hall. Guarding a dark, heavy oaken door stand two bored-looking gangster-snakes. The door is emblazoned with a small rectangle of brass, engraved with the word PRIVATE.”The Shaman must be in there”, Kit whispers to Señor Hsss, “but how are we going to get past those two?”

5. “KRACKKK!” “RUMBLE!” “CRASH!” Suddenly, bits of plaster, dust and splinters fly. From behind, an explosion of noise puts an end to Kit’s and Hsss’nervous whispering.

6. Stunned with disbelief, Kit and Hsss behold Señor Hoss, Debbil attached, staggering from out a gaping cavity in the wall where the laundry chute used to be. McKlaw moans out his disbelief: “OH, NO! How did…” “We followed you!”, explains Señor Hoss proudly.

7. Having heard the commotion, the two gangster-snakes calmly face down our friends. “Well, well, what have we here?” cracks the diamondback from under his powder-blue Stetson. “You gay cats wouldn’t be trying to sneak up on us, would you?” The other gangster, a silent green cobra in a cadet-grey spy-vs-spy hat, flicks his tongue about menacingly as he looks on through heavily-lidded eyes.

8. Suddenly, a flash of brilliant emerald illumination overwhelms the group, drowning walls, carpet and ceiling with supernatural green light. All eyes fix upon the crimson Debbil. With a Mephistophilean twinkle in his eyes, out of the very ethers he has produced a matched pair of shining golden horns! Will the Debbil play us a tune?


Dogbad 22 – The Debbil’s Music

The Debbil blows snakes to sleep in the hotel hall…

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1. The Debbil whips out his golden pipes and blows with all his cunning! His Mephistophilean melodies are particularly purposed to appeal to the siesta-instincts of the serpentinian Central Nervous System.

2. The two gangster-snakes swoon and drop like real estate prices. Kit and the Debbil calmly regard the sleeping serpents. It does not appear they will regain conciousness any time soon.

3. Not everyone grooves to the Debbil’s music, though. Señor Hsss has stuffed his rattle in his ears lest he succumb to the soporific sonorities of this infernal brass section. “Is it over?, he asks, grimacing. “Yes”, McKlaw assures him.

4. The Debbil and Hoss, Hsss and McKlaw brace for Kit to bust down the door. “Stand Back- we’re going in!”

5. Meanwhile, inside the private room, Daring Daylight dominates the game. One by one the players have folded, leaving only the Snake Shaman to match wits with the baddest card strategist of her generation. “Ok, Shaman, what you got?” she asks languidly.

6. The Shaman displays his hand with a bold mesmeric glare: “I’ve got FOUR ACES!”

7. Daring Daylight faces him down with all the focused resolution of a cross Macedonian Phalanx: “SAAAAAAY! You ain’t playing on the square, Shaman! THAT ain’t the hand I dealt ya!”

8. Before he can reply, the Snake Shaman finds himself face-to-face with a loaded, blue steel Winchester Glock Beretta Smith & Wesson Colt .45 revolver! This old man does not like them apples. Daylight calmly commands him: “Say your prayers, Shaman”. The cartoonist silently wonders to himself: “Is there such a thing as too much ‘product-placement’?”


Dogbad 23 – What Devil?

Kit, Hoss, the Debbil and Hsss crash the game and confront the Snake Shaman.

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1. Suddenly and without warning, Kit McKlaw, Señor Hsss, Señor Hoss and the Debbil smash down the door of the private room. The partiers flee in panic.

2. As the room quickly empties, Kit draws a pair of revolvers. “Pardon us- we’re here to speak with Mister Snake Shaman.” He stands audacious- flanked by Señor Hsss, Señor Hoss and the Debbil- facing the room’s two remaining occupants- the seated Snake Shaman and his concomitant serpentess Ms Condomleeza Cobra. McKlaw continues,”We need to converse in private.” “Any objections?” adds his pistol.

3. With the last guest out the door, our friends can let down their bluff. “Shaman Sahib, please help us”, pleads Señor Hsss. McKlaw continues, “It’s my Hoss”; “We’ve been spooked” whinnies Señor Hoss.

4. “Na, DAG-NAB-it!” exclaims the cross Shaman. “What is your major malfunction? Can’t you crybabies mind your own bizness and let me mind mine?” He remains seated, and does not offer a chair to anyone. Manners hardly matter at this juncture- all the furniture save his own seat is strewn in bits and splinters around the room.

5. Señor Hoss steps forward. “It’s this Debbil on my butt, I can’t get rid of him! He’s beating me up!” Mister Snake Shaman looks down impassively.

6. Miss Cobra looks up at the Snake Shaman as he disctacts himself by catching flies. At length he replies with a question to Hoss: “What Devil?”

7. Señor Hoss snaps back at the Shaman: “What do you mean, “What Devil?” -This devil right here growing out of my butt! -That’s what devil! Are you BLIND?” Hoss continue pointing to his posterior without glancing back to see the Debbil has suddenly removed himself. What the devil is going on?

8. Hoss turns his attention to his own backside and is momentarily rendered speechless wirth surprise. “Bup, buh, he’s GONE!” The Snake Shaman remains sitting, Ms Cobra silent by his side. Señor Hsss looks on, himself puzzled.


Dogbad 24 – Snakes Don’t Pee

The Debbil has disappeared suddenly, and the Snake Shaman explains the Situation.

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1. Señor Hoss is beside himself with confusion- suddenly the Debbil is nowhere to be seen. He should be grateful enough to not ask any questions, but he puts it to the Snake Shaman: “What did you do? Where is he?” The Shaman is hugely amused at Hoss’s consternation. He rolls about in his chair guffawing his peculiar Shaman’s laugh: “HARKA HUK-HUK!, HORP-HORP!” “DO WHAT? What do you MEAN?”, he replies disingenuously.

2. “THE DEBBIL! What did you do with him?” demands Hoss. “Why is this citizen making a fuss?”, puzzles the Shaman. For a moment he stares back at Señor Hoss blankly.

3. The Snake Shaman explains it to Señor Hoss matter-of-fact-ly: “There was no Debbil. You imagined him.”

4. Señor Hoss isn’t buying. “I did not ‘imagine’ him”, he retorts. “It’s not possible. Everybody else saw him too. We got kicked out of the saloon together.”

5. The wise Snake Shaman points out an oft-overlooked fact- a telling attribute of ‘consensus realities’: “That’s a funny thing about delusions- they’re contagious.”

6. Señor Hsss interrupts: “What about ME? Am I still going to be going around peeing purple gold dust?”

7. The Shaman is nearly out of patience with this lot. He wiggles a beckoning forefinger at the Sombrero’d serpent. “HSSSY, C’mere.”

8. He puts it country-simple: “SNAKES DON’T PEE.”