The Million Dollar Policeman
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
One of a series of comedy/science fiction novels featuring slow-witted detective Frank Burly, by John Swartzwelder, the writer of 59 episodes of The Simpsons.
(Unfortunately, no plot summary available anywhere I can find. I'll write one after I've read it.)
Satan: His Psychotherapy and Cure by the Unfortunate Dr. Kassler, J.S.P.S.
Seriously Funny: The Rebel Comedians of the 1950s and 1960s
Monty Python at Work: A Behind-the-Scenes Account of the Making of the TV and Stage Shows, Films, Books and Albums
more foul-mouthed. They smell 9% worse, but we expected that. And the parents of Central City owe it all to your good advice.” He shook my hand. “That’s fine,” I said, “Glad I could help. But the thing is, I have new advice.” “Wonderful! Hey, boys! Burly’s got some new advice for us!” His boys hurried in and stood there looking at me with expectant smiles on their faces. “Um… well… my new advice is… put everything back like it was before.” Fred frowned. He didn’t get this. “Why?” “Well…
camera swung around until it was pointed at me. I did a little dance step. The cheering stopped and the camera turned away. Okay, forget it. Wonder Witch put down her prop can of motor oil and took off her gas station hat and came towards me, frowning. I held up a hand. “Now before you start zipping anybody’s mouth closed…” I began. She zipped my mouth closed. I tried to finish my sentence using sign language, but I don’t really know any sign language, so it mostly just looked like I was
nothing was ever going to make me leave. Then Fred Ferocious showed up. CHAPTER NINE I had just finished up my day’s work on another Snotty Snail cartoon (I almost got him that time), when the small menacing figure of Fred Ferocious appeared out of nowhere in front of me. “My pal,” he said, with one of those smiles of his that aren’t really a smile. I stared at him. He wasn’t the last person I expected to see—George Washington was—but I was still pretty surprised. “What are you doing
to hide. I mean, nobody’s going to crawl into a septic tank with a flashlight to look for you unless they absolutely have to, are they? Of course not. They’ll look in the nicest smelling places first—flower dumps or something—and hope you’re in one of those. Anyway, after three days there were still no signs of any pursuit, and no further lightning bolts. Either I had given Wonder Witch the slip, through my cleverness, or else I wasn’t as important as I thought I was and she just had better
Witch was frowning and shaking her magic wand. The cartoon characters were being drawn into the studio all right, but they were resisting her far better than they should have been able to do. “That’s funny,” she said, adjusting the sights on her magic wand. “No living thing should be able to resist me.” “Yeah, but they’re not actually living things,” I pointed out. “They’re just a bunch of crappy drawings.” “Hey, that’s right,” she said, a little worried now. When the cartoon characters saw