Issue # 07

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Issue #8

Letter from the Co-Editors

Greetin's, and welcome to Issue #8 of the Looney Bin! Sorry it's taken so long since issue #7 came out. We've had to deal with a few bumps in the road, so to speak. Sbonk! But, it's finally here, with quite a line-up! Some old series come to an end, others live on, and new ones are born. With illustrations by Federica Warner, to top it all off! Read on and enjoy!

Harley Quinn, Editor-in-Chief (SROTW)
Penelope Pussycat, Co-Editor
Romey, Tech Assistant

The Top Ten Reasons Why Bruce Wayne Chose the Name Batman:

Written by Sylvester D. Cat, from the home office of Acme Acres, take a left turn at Albuquerque
Illustrated by Federica Warner

10. Rat-Boy just wasn’t manly enough.

9. Superman was already taken.

8. Batboy was already being used in baseball.

7. He read the best-selling book “1,001 Superhero Names Guaranteed to Pick Up Chicks” and Batman was one of them.

6. What do you expect from a guy who likes bats?

5. A man came unto him on a flaming apple and said “You will be Batman…with a B.”

4. With the name “bat” he could now use it to name everything else he owned…the Batmobile, the Batcycle, etc.

3. When signing the Superhero Contract, the fine print stated “If you plan to be a superhero, might we suggest you call yourself something that interests you.”

2. He looked the name up at…searched under “great names for people with no idea”.

And the number 1 reason why Bruce Wayne chose the name Batman: he would be a celebrity who has had a cartoon series, 4 movies, a TV show, a comic book all about his life…wouldn’t you have chosen that name, too?

Sylvester & the Case of the Missing Ruby: the final part…finally!

By Penelope Pussycat, with help from Ron “Keeper” O’Dell
Illustrated by Federica Warner

She took the handkerchief, blew her nose in it, and proceeded to hand it back to me. "Keep it," I said. "Did you just say you let her out and she never came back?"

"Yes," Babs sighed. "What do you think I said?"

"Er, um, nothing," I answered. "I was just um...clarifying." As I said this, I felt my cheeks turn red and sweat coming from my forehead. Then I continued, hoping neither she nor Bugs would take notice. "Is it possible she might've run away?"

"No! At least...I don't think she would!"

Then Bugs stepped in. "Have you tried the pound?" he asked.

"Excuse me, Bugs," I interrupted, pushing Bugs aside. "Who's the one investigating this case?"

"Sorry," Bugs replied, stepping back.

"Have you tried the pound?" I asked Babs.

"I've been calling them every day and no one has turned her in yet. I've also put up fliers." She went back to the bar and returned with a copy of the flier. "See?"

I took it and studied it carefully. "Looks familiar," I said.

"Of course she does," responded Babs. "I showed you a picture of her when I first hired you, didn't I?"

"Oh, um, I meant the printing on the flier."

Babs sighed as Bugs stepped back in to take a look. "That was printed at Fliers, etc. down the street," he commented.

"Could we please get back to the real issue here?" interrupted Babs.

"Sorry," Bugs and I said in unison. Then I continued with my questions. "Anything else you can tell me about her?"

"No," said Babs. "Just...find her before she gets hurt."

"I will," I responded, then left the club.

On the way to my car, the same cat I had seen twice before crossed my path again. "What's with this cat today?" I pondered to myself before getting in the car and driving home.

That night, I didn't sleep a wink. I kept stewing over why the picture of the cat on Babs' flier looked so familiar, and over the large submarine sandwich I got for dinner on the way home. Note four to myself: never eat more than your stomach can handle.

Then, it hit me--a specially autographed Mickey Mantle baseball that sat on a stand on the shelf above my bed! "Ouch!" I said as I rubbed the top of my head. Note five to myself: never put anything on that shelf that could fall off and hurt you.

A few minutes later, something else hit me. No, not the authentic Fui-Ling Dynasty vase that had been on the shelf above my bed, because I moved it-- remember note five? What hit me was where I had seen that cat other than in the photograph!

The next day--February 1, 1997, at 9:43 am--I started to look for the cat that had been crossing my path so many times the day before. I checked every alley, as well as the area around the pawn shop and the jewelry store. I asked around and checked the pound as well, and while I saw plenty of other cats around town, I never found the one cat I was looking for--the white one with the bright red ruby on her collar. Feeling frustrated and tired, I decided to return to the night club.

6:12 pm: I was back at the night club. Once again Babs' bouncer tried to stop me. "Where do you think you are going?" he asked.

"I was just here yesterday!" I blurted. "I'm the detective your boss hired to find her cat!"

"Yeah, sure you are. And I'm Superman. Now leave or I will be forced to turn you into a puny little furball."

That's when I decided to get aggressive. I put my hand into my pocket and pulled out my badge! "Do you believe me now, Superman?" I asked.

He nodded and stepped aside. As I walked by I could feel him glaring at me, and what a chilly feeling that was.

Once inside, I found Babs...holding her cat! "You found her??" I asked as I approached her.

"Arnold did yesterday right after you left. I'm surprised you didn't see her. I tried to call you to tell you, but you couldn't be reached."

"Oh, well, I'm glad you found her safe and sound," I said as I attempted to pet her cat.

"I suppose I should at least pay you the rest of the money I owe you." She put down her cat on the table and retrieved her purse. "How much?"

"Just give me the last hundred."

She pulled out her checkbook. "You do accept checks, don't you?" I nodded.

She wrote the check and handed it to me. "Thank you so much for trying." At that, she picked up her cat again and disappeared into a back room.

The next morning--at 10:36 am--I went down to the bank to cash my check. As I stepped out the door, Bugs appeared in front of me. "How do you do that??" I blurted.

"Nevermind that," replied Bugs. "Do you have the money?"

"Yeah yeah." I pulled out the $200 and gave it to him. "That's all the money I had, too! I hope I never make a wager with you again."

"Ya shoulda taken my advice, Doc," Bugs said.

"I bet you're right," I said.

Bugs grinned. "You do, huh? And, eh, what was my advice, pray tell?"

"You told me to-- you told me the Patriots had good odds!"

"I think you just lost yourself another bet there, pretty boy."

The last thing I remember before passing out was saying, "Sufferin' succotash!"


For parts 1-3, visit my web site at, or look through old issues of "The Looney Bin". They’re in there somewhere. =)

Pinky & the Brain Round Robin
Continued from Issue # 7

Written by Romey
Illustrated by Federica Warner

"Umm... Brain? About what I said earlier... I'm beginning to think Boomer really *IS* a giant chicken... NARF!" said Pinky.

"Nonsense, Pinky. Like I said before, Boomer is one of the greatest quarterbacks of all time; he's only quivering because he's under a lot of pressure to succeed. There's no reason to call him a giant chicken!" Brain retorted.

"Actually, I was referring to the way he's scratching and pecking..."

"That's nothing more than an aggravated display intended to instill fear into the opposition. Observe how the other team is held in terror by Boomer's aggressive manner!"

"But, Brain! I don't think..."

"Quiet, Pinky!"

As the mice continued to stare out from within, a loud voice could be heard shouting, "Forty-two, sixty-six, pi! Hike!" Within milliseconds, Boomer was crushed under every player on the field. His helmet, along with Pinky & Brain, was sent flying into the dugout. Paramedics rushed in to peel the players off, one by one. The fans were silenced by what they saw when the unfortunate quarterback was finally freed... The two mice, now very roughed up, climbed from the helmet to see what had grabbed the crowd's attention.

"I guess he was a giant chicken after all! Ha ha! NARF!" remarked Pinky, still heavily dazed from the crash. The crowd started jeering and throwing things into the field. Many spectators left their seats to demand their money back. Police were even called in to handle the riots.

"Yes..." said Brain, in a weary tone, "This should keep the crowd distracted long enough for me to calibrate the micro-magnetic thermonuclear hypnotic device for this transmitter! But first, a short nap..." Thus said, Brain passed out.

(Commercial break!)

“Cats Don’t Dance” Quiz: Part 1 Answers
By Penelope Pussycat

Here’s the answers to part 1 of the quiz, which was in issue #7:

Danny - F. male cat trying to make it big in Hollywood
Sawyer - C. former star who’s now a secretary
Pudge - A. ice-delivering penguin
Tilly - H. sweet hippo
Cranston - M. old goat
Frances - B. old fish
TW - K. nervous turtle full of fortune
Woolie - piano-playing elephant
Farley Wink - head of an animal talent agency
LB Mammoth - E. head of a movie studio
Darla Dimple - L. child star who’s not what she seems to be
Max - I. bodyguard/servant
Flanigan - G. movie director
Scott Bakula was also the star of b. “Quantum Leap”.
Jasmine Guy played d. Whitley on “A Different World”.
Kathy Najimy stars in a. “Veronica’s Closet”.
TW is voiced by Don Knotts, who played a. Mr. Furley in “Three’s Company”.
John Rhys-Davies had a part in “Raiders of the Lost Ark”.
Rene Auberjonois also provided a voice in c. “The Little Mermaid” (as Prince Eric’s cook).
Lindsay Ridgeway also costars in b. “Boy Meets World”.
Danny’s from Kokomo, Indiana.
The title of the movie is skywritten.
Scott Bakula’s name appears on a riverboat.
Jasmine Guy’s name appears on the roof of a barn.
On the way to Hollywood, the bus stops at a diner.
Randy Newman provided the music and lyrics for the movie.
The title of the song that plays in the opening credits is “Our Time Has Come” (sung by James Ingram and Carnie Wilson).

The Warners' New Toaster, Part One: Bearers of Death

By Craig M. J. Marinaro

[A mailman walks warily up to the water tower. He pulls some letters out, and attempts to stick them into a mailbox that has conveniently sprung up out of nowhere. Some growling arises from the bushes behind him, and he whirls around to see Wakko on all fours, bristling like a dog. He warily backs his way to the mailbox, and opens it up. A huge mallet comes out and attempts to strike him, just as Wakko leaps to bite him in the leg. The mailman jumps out of the way just in time, and Wakko is smashed by the mallet. The mailman throws the letters to the ground, and dashes off, as the mallet withdraws back into the box, leaving a flattened Wakko to ponder what has transpired.]

WAKKO: [After much consideration.] That wasn't supposed to happen. [He picks up the mail and flips through it. One letter catches his eye.] Oh! "Mortician's Clearinghouse--You May Already be an Heir!" Faboo! [He pushes a button on the scaffolding of the tower, and the entire Warner Bros. Lot raises up to level with the top section of the tower, carrying Wakko with it. He hops up onto the tower, and the Lot zooms back to regular level, just as Ralph the Guard is making a lunge for the tower. He zips back down with the ground.]

[Inside the tower, we see Dot taking her ears out of curlers. Yakko is standing with his pants on, but no belt. Inside his closet, we see dozens of belts, all the black-with-yellow-buckle style we've grown accustomed to. Finally, after much deliberation, he reaches in and grabs one from the back--it's a bright aqua color with purple and yellow polkadots. He puts it on and models it for Dot.]

YAKKO: What do you think...does it clash with the pants?

DOT: [Dryly.] It doesn't just duels to the death. Go with the black, honey.

YAKKO: [Grumpily.] Yes, ma'am...

WAKKO: [Dashing in.] Lookit, guys! Mortician's Clearinghouse, that worthy institution that gives away the possessions of dead guys who didn't have anyone to will them to, has selected us as potential heirs! Think of all the useless junk we could get!

YAKKO: Eeeeh, I dunno...what's on the schedule for today, Dot?

DOT: [Holding up the paper.] Mostly just tomato sauce. Wakko used it for a napkin at dinner last night.

YAKKO: Alrighty...Mortician's Clearinghouse it is! Where do we have to go?

WAKKO: Nowhere! They come to you! [Suddenly, the doorbell rings. Wakko gasps and runs to the door. He peeps through the peephole.] It's him! It's...ED MCMAHON!

ED: [From outside.] Are ya decent? 'Cause I'm comin' in! [The door swings open, and in steps Ed, with Dick Clark following close at his heels.] Heya, folks! I'm Ed McMahon, and this is my faithful sidekick Dick Clark! And we're happy to tell you that you've been selected as heirs for...what've we got for 'em Dick?

DICK: [Á la $25,000 Pyramid.] Okay, this is a big metal put toast in it, and it pops it up...

ED: A Toaster!

DICK: Right! [The two do a little victory dance, then settle down.]

ED: [Reading off a piece of paper.] Now, then...this toaster had belonged to Princess Diana. According to her will here, it's a very good make...never once malfunctioned in fifteen, toasts to a slightly crispy tan...only catch is that it's haunted. [The sibs gasp.] Haw haw haw! And here it says you can have it only if you can survive a night with it! Or, if you can drink a whole bottle of poison!

DOT: Which is safer?

ED: Oh, poison, I would imagine, from the tone of the writing...

DICK: [Pointing at the page.] Actually, it says right there that the night with the toaster would be much less life-threatening--

ED: Um, oh...yes, I saw that! Naturally, the night with the toaster would be less life-threatening...that doesn't necessarily mean it's *SAFER*, does it, Dick?

DICK: Ah--

ED: Right! Well, here's your brand-new toaster! [Hands it to the three.] Enjoy! If you don't survive the night, we'll be by to repossess it in the morning. Haw haw! C'mon, Dick...only four hundred thirty-nine houses to visit before lunchtime!

DICK: Aww... [Trods wearily out the door behind Ed.]

YAKKO: [Yawns.] Well, sibs, looks like we're in for a long night! May as well get ready to hit the hay... [He begins to march off toward the bathroom.]

DOT: Uh...Yakko?


DOT: It's only 11:15 AM.

YAKKO: Eeeeh...oh. Well, we'll fix that!

[Wakko runs outside, reaches up to grab the sun out of the sky, and eats it. An odd glow emits from his eyes, ears and nostrils, as he wanders back into the tower. Dot comes out with a brush and artist's palette, and with a few strokes, repaints the entire daytime sky dark blue. She dots it with some stars, and a big crescent moon. The two join Yakko, who is resetting the clock on the wall to 10:00 PM.]

YAKKO: Well, sibs, it's 10 PM! Did that day zoom by or what? Well, may as well hit the hay...

WAKKO & DOT: Right!

[The three run into the bathroom. Dot weaves a long piece of floss back and forth between every one of her teeth. She then yanks it, pulling it through all her teeth at once. She smiles, and one of her teeth glints. Yakko turns the sink on and grabs a bar of soap. He then pulls his hands out of his gloves. As his gloves continue washing with the soap, he looks in the mirror and combs his ears. Satisfied, he returns to the gloves just as they're drying on a towel. Wakko grabs some mouthwash, and throws the whole thing, bottle and all, into his mouth. He gargles, then spits the empty bottle into the sink. The three emerge from the bathroom clad in their pajamas, and dive into bed. They burrow under the covers and up to the pillows, then nestle in for the night.]

YAKKO: Good night, Dot. 'Night, Wakko.

WAKKO: 'Night, Yakko. Nighty-night, Dot.

DOT: 'Night, Wakko. G'night, Yakko.

YAKKO: [Smugly.] Goodnight, possessed toaster-thingee! Hee hee hee...

[The toaster, sitting on the bedstand, suddenly opens a pair of glowing red eyes.]

TOASTER: Good night, children. Have a nice, looong rest.

[The three sit up in bed, eyes wide.]

YAKKO: Eeeeh...who else thinks this would be an ideal time for a TO BE CONTINUED notice?

And now, a song parody!
By Sharklady


(Sung to the tune of Elton John's 'Don’t Go Breaking My Heart')

BRAIN: I am a mouse with a destiny,

PINKY: And with a lovely large head!

BRAIN: No mere primordial Rodentia intellect,

PINKY: He uses big words instead!

BRAIN: Whoa-ho! But nobody knows it!
I will be redeemed,

PINKY: Brain has a scheme,

BOTH: Whoooa-ho! To conquer the earth!

BRAIN: I’m taking over the world!

PINKY: He’s taking over the world!

BOTH: Taking over the, taking over the,

BRAIN: I’m taking over the earth!

(Spoken during the musical interlude:)

BRAIN: Pinky, where did you put my mobile polarity trans-mogrifier unit?

PINKY: NARF! You mean that snow-blower thingee?

BRAIN: It’s not a snow-blower! What did you do with it?

PINKY: Ah, it kinda got broken when I used it to clear the front walk.


(sound of head-bop. Singing resumes:)

BRAIN: I have an imbecile sidekick,

PINKY: I have some culottes to mend!

BRAIN: His bonehead blunders are constantly thwarting me,

PINKY: But Brain, who else calls you “friend”?

BRAIN: Whoa-ho! I’m extremely tenacious!
My plots go amiss,

PINKY: Still, you persist,

BOTH: Whoooa-ho! To devise a new plan!

BRAIN: I’ll always try it again,

PINKY: You’ll always try it again!

BOTH: Always try it ah, always try it ah,

BRAIN: I’ll always try it again!


BRAIN: “I have some culottes to mend”? What has that got to do with anything?!

PINKY: Sorry, Brain. It was the only rhyme I could think of. ZORT!

BRAIN: Pinky, you possess all the word-organization capacities of a styrofoam cooler!

PINKY: Poit...?

BRAIN: (sigh) Just let me do the lyrics next time.

PINKY: OK! But it looks like we’re already most of the way through this thing.

(Singing resumes:)

BRAIN: Despite the pain and the setbacks,

PINKY: You know you’ll someday come through!

BRAIN: Genius like mine just won’t settle for lesser things,

PINKY: And we’ve not much else to do...

BRAIN: Whoa-ho! Do you ponder what I do?
One scheme will succeed,

PINKY: Then you will be,

BOTH: Whoooa-ho! The ruler of earth!

BRAIN: I’ll be the king of the planet!

PINKY: You’ll be the king of the earth!

BOTH: Be the king of the, be the king of the,

BRAIN: I’ll be the king of earth!


BRAIN: YEESS!! It’s preordained, listeners! Let this message, couched in a musical format, seep to the depths of your consciousness; I, the Brain, am destined to be your...

PINKY: Hey, Brain!

BRAIN: What??!!

PINKY: There’s a scarrry-looking man, coming toward the recording studio door.

BRAIN: (gasps) That’s Wally Faust! Quick, we’d better get out of here! But be careful not to unplug the....!

(Sudden silence.)


Editor: Harley Quinn
Co-Editor: Penelope Pussycat
Writers: Sylvester, Penelope, Keeper, Romey, Sharklady, Craig Marinaro
Technical Assistant: Romey
Artist Extraordinaire: Federica Warner

If you have any contributions of your own, please send them to Penelope at, unless you happen to be an overly amorous skunk. If you have any complaints or extra styrofoam packing peanuts, please send them to Thanks to all who contributed in this issue, and see you all next time!!!


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