Author Archives: beviannajaxon

Christmas Carol Countdown – Bob Cratchit

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By Joshie Jaxon 

Greetings, geek fans! We’re a week away from X-Mas, and I’m giving you your gift early. Rather than reviewing three versions of A Christmas Carol, I’m going to rate some of the main characters each day, and then give my overall review at the end. I’m hoping this will be a fun format for ya, so if it isn’t, you’ll just have to put up with me all week. These are my favorite adaptations of the story, and oddly, I’ve never read the original. I find these to be the most entertaining, and maintaining the spirit of our site. Let the geeks begin! 
Diva’s Christmas Carol – 

Lets get this Bob out of the way. He sucks. There’s nothing to make him the sympathetic character in this version. Yeah, he still works for Scrooge/Ebony, but he’s not nearly as abused as Mickey or Kermit. He’s just an overworked assistant to a pop diva. Boo fricken hoo, Bob. Most of our community would give our left nut to serve. Yes, we get some back story that he and Ebony were once an item, and now she’s his boss, so I guess he gave his nuts up after all. I think my issue with this incarnation of Bob is that the story has a modern setting. As we see in flashbacks, his wife and Tim have a house, food, and aren’t suffering other than he’s not there. Oh, and the whole sick kid thing, so I guess there’s that, but I just can’t sympathize with Bob, or even relate, beyond the fact the we all at one point have had a boss that doesn’t value us. Next!
Mickey’s Christmas Carol – 

Who’s the leader of the club that’s made for you and me? M-i-c-k-e-y M-o-u-s-e! As the leader of his franchise, of course Mickey is going to be cast as Bob, the abused worker. Mickey is adorable and loving in his own right, but give him a family and sick kid to support, and the “aww” factor goes through the roof. His family has what appears to be a canary-sized bird for X-Mas dinner. He even takes in Scrooge’s laundry to earn an extra haypenny. When we’re given the glimpse at the future, and Tim is dead, Mickey clutching the crutch with a tear in his eye will get to even the coldest heart. Not mine, cause, yeah, but normal people. Grab the tissues. Mickey does a great job as the Everyman that we can all relate to in some form. As Scrooge goes on his rant at the end, and Mickey thinks he’s about to lose everything, we feel the relief when Scrooge reveals that he’s instead getting a raise and being made partner. Yay, Mickey! 
Muppet Christmas Carol –

The role of loyal employee could only be played by our dear Kermit the Frog in this iteration. He’s got the sympathy factor going for him, along with being someone that we tend to root for in his movies. I may be a Gonzo man, but Kermit gave us Rainbow Connection. He gets points. You sympathize with the abuse he takes from his boss, even for the times they’re in, and does it all with a happy heart. He’s grateful for what he has, and that he can provide for his family. During Scrooge’s visit to the present we see that Bob is loved by his entire family, as they run to greet him when he gets home. He may not have much, but he’s got what matters. Even with a sick son like Tiny Tim, he’s grateful for everything he has in life. Something still relevant today. No better puppet to deliver that lesson than Kermit. Mickey is great, but I have to give the edge to Kermit. It’s not easy being green. 
Tune in tomorrow for Marley during my Christmas Carol Countdown. Until next time, stay geeky, and keep gabbing! 

Dr. Seuss’ How the Grinch Stole Christmas! 

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By Joshie Jaxon  

Greetings, geek fans! It’s the most wonderful time of the year. Free STD checks at the clinic! Kidding! Those were last month. Anyhow, the time for holiday specials is upon us. Despite the busy hours a day job requires, I’m determined to bring you more than one post this month. If I don’t, Santa won’t let me go down his- never mind. This is a special that almost everyone should know. Unless you’ve been living under The Rock, in which case, you’re excused because, gurl. Yeah. I love this one, and though I normally watch things once before going back to review them, I’m confident I can do this on the initial viewing. Wonder what I’ll come up with while I’ve got my Gay Geek Goggles on. Available on Amazon. Only they’re not, cause this is a labor of love, not a paying gig. I’m not bitter, that’s the meds wearing off. Let the geeks begin! 

This is a Chuck Jones cartoon. He’s a legend in Looney Tunes land. You can already tell this is gonna be good. Like when you see the Trojan logo on your cond- um, where was I? Yes, the cartoon. Pan past a mountain as the snow falls. The song starts in the background, and I need captions cause Seuss made up some fun words that I just can’t spell. Fah who for-aze, dah who dor-aze. Welcome Christmas, bring your light. Fah who for-aze, dah who dor-aze. Welcome in the cold, dark night. As the Whos sing, hand in hand, they pick a tree, and topple it to take back to Who-ville. Welcome Christmas, fah who rah-moose. Welcome Christmas dah who dah-moose. Welcome Christmas, while we stand, heart-to-heart and hand in hand. Warm fuzzies as the Whos raise the tree in the center of town. There’s a song sung about decorating, which I will share with you in a moment. I’d like to point out that based on the song, it’s Christmas Eve, and the entire town is getting ready for the holiday. That’s a day away. As in tomorrow. I’ve never understood the decorate the day before people. Even if you don’t want to deal with it for a month, at least let yourself have it up for a week. Having things up is a good thing. I remember this one time, when- what? Fine, back to the song. Your loss. It was a good story. A man triumphed over impotence, and- alright already! Sheesh! 

Trim up the tree with Christmas stuff like bingle balls, and whofoo fluff. Trim up the tree with goowho gums, and bizilbix and wums. Trim every blessed window and trim every blessed door. Hang up whoboohoo bricks, then run out and get some more. Hang pantookas on the ceiling. Pile pampoonas on the floor. Trim every needle on the blessed Christmas tree. Christmas comes tomorrow. Trim you. Trim me. Trim up the tree with fuzzle fuzz, and bliffer bloofs, and wuzzle wuzz. Trim up your uncle and your aunt with yard of whofut flant. Alright, first off, there are a lot of blessed things in Whoville. Second, I’m not gonna trim every needle on a tree. Someone needs to explain “taste” to the Whos. Third, if your pampoona is piled on the floor, you should see the gyno, stat! And finally, if I haven’t tainted your memories yet, I’m just getting warmed up. We’re about to meet the star of our show. 

While the Whos are all scrambling to get Aunt Harriet’s pampoona off the floor, we pan out of Whoville and up the mountain. The Whos like Christmas a lot, but the Grinch, did not! The Grinch hated Christmas, the whole Christmas season. Don’t ask why, no one quite knows the reason. It could be that his shoes were too tight. Or perhaps that his head wasn’t screwed on just right. Maybe he’s worked retail all his life. Maybe he’s Jewish, and doesn’t need a holiday shoved down his throat. Or he’s Pagan and doesn’t like his things appropriated. Er, sorry, I got off Karloff there. And while I’m on the subject, how great is Boris? He’s a great narrator. His theory on the Grinch was that his heart was two sizes too small. Whatever the reason, his heart or his shoes, he stood there on Christmas Eve hating the Whos. As he stands there hating them, his dog, Max, comes out and looks down at Whoville with him. 

The Grinch picks Max up by the scruff of his neck, and starts talking. They’re hanging their stockings! Tomorrow is Christmas! It’s practically here! I must find some way to stop Christmas from coming. Well, maybe if you edge it a while, you could stop it from- what? That’s not what he meant? You’re sure? But he said- Fine. The Grinch knows that all the Who girl and boys will wake bright and early. They’ll rush for their toys. And then, oh, the noise! Oh, the noise, noise, noise! There’s one thing he hates it’s all the noise! Their shrieks, squeaks, and squeals racing round on their wheels. They’ll dance with jing-tinglers tied on to their heels. I thought you attacked the jing-tingler to your- you know, I’ll let that one go on my own. They’ll blow their floo-floobers, they’ll bang their tah-tinkers. They’ll blow their hoo-hoobers, they’ll bang their gah-dinkers. Ok, none of those sound like child appropriate activities. Is it just me? Oh. It is. Moving on. They’ll beat their trum-tookers, they’ll slam their sloo-slonkers. Actually, you can’t slam a sloo-slonker, their knockers can only handle so much pressure. They’ll beat their blum-blookers, they’ll wham their woo-workers. You shouldn’t wham your woo-wonker. I mean, unless you’re into that sort of thing. Personally, I treat mine with the reverence it deserves. The Grinch goes on to say that after they feast, and Who-pudding, and rare Who-roast-beast, that they’ll do do something he hates most of all. All the Whos down in Whoville, the tall and the small with do a most unpleasant thing, they’ll stand hand in hand, and sing! Cue the Fah who for-aze, dah who dor-aze reprise. Stick with me, people. We’re only seven minutes in. 

The more the Grinch thought of the Who-Christmas-Sing, the more he thought he must stop the whole thing. He’s been putting up with it for fifty-three years. He’s earned a little peace and quiet. Max comes out of the snow with a mock hat and bears on, and the Grinch gets an idea. An awful idea. A wonderful awful idea. He’ll make a quick Santy Claus hat and coat. The Grinch takes scissors to his curtains, like he’s Giselle in Manhattan or something, and You’re a Mean One Mr. Grinch starts up. Before I get into the awesome lyrics of the song itself, he spends the time using Max as his dressing dummy to make his outfit. Then to run his sewing machine, which catches Max’s tail.

You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch. You really are a heel. You’re as cuddly as a cactus, you’re as charming as an eel, Mr. Grinch. You’re a bad banana with a greasy black peel. You’re a monster, Mr. Grinch. Your heart’s an empty hole. Your brain is full of spiders, you’ve got garlic in your soul, Mr. Grinch. I wouldn’t touch you with a thirty-nine and a half foot pole! 

 

The Grinch admires his look in the mirror. Now he just needs a reindeer. Reindeer being scarce in the Land of Who, he decides he’ll just make one. Seeing where this is going, Max hides under the bed. The Grinch gets him out, and uses black thread, to attach a big horn to the top of his head. It topples Max over. He’s too horn-y. That one wrote itself. The Grinch removes some of the bulk from the horn, and Max is able to stand upright. He loads his ramshackle sleigh with some bags and sacks, and whistles for Max. Being a dog, he naturally assumed they’re going for a ride, and sits in the sleigh, wagging and happy. The Grinch breaks the forth wall to look at us, the goes to remind Max who the master is. Taking Max by the horn, he attaches him to the front of the sleigh, cracks the whip, yes on his dog, and they start towards Whoville. Max tries to run faster than the downhill momentum of the sleigh, and fails. He ends up under it, behind it, on it, pulled back to the front, upside down, clinging to the Grinch, then managers to stay ahead of it. I’d like to point out that the Grinch is about to do his burgling while the Whos are a-snooze. Why he needs Max dressed as a reindeer is beyond me. I get the point of his outfit, but Max is clearly a dog in a horn. Whatever, maybe the Whos are gullible. Spoiler alert, they are. 

They reach the first house, and Max steadies the ladder. The Grinch slid down the chimney, a rather tight pinch, but if Santa could do it, then so could the Grinch. He got stuck only once, for a minute or two, then he stuck his head out of the fireplace flue. First to go, the stockings. The Grinch pulls out a magnet and uses it to remove the nails holding them up. Next, with a smile most unpleasant, he took every present. Pop guns, pampoonas, pantookas and drums, checkerboards, bizzel-binks, popcorn and plums. Then, for whatever reason, rather than opening the door, he sends his stolen goods UP the chimney, where upon the roof, he then has to send them back to ground level. Me thinks the Whos aren’t the only dim bulbs in the land. We get another verse of Mr. Grinch as the stealing montage plays. During the thefts, his poor dog is the one having to carry all the sacks to the sleigh. All the Grinch really needs to do is take anything that makes noise, and all the batteries as well. There will be unhappy kids, and statistically a few moms too, but problem solved. 

You’re a vile one, Mr. Grinch. You have termites in your smile. You have all the tender sweetness of a seasick crocodile, Mr. Grinch. You’re a rotter, Mr. Grinch, you’re the king of sinful sots. Your heart’s a dead tomato splotched with moldy purple spots, Mr. Grinch. You’re a three-decker sauerkraut and toadstool sandwich with arsenic sauce. 

He cleaned out the icebox as quick as a flash. The Grinch even took the last can of Who Hash. After stuffing all the food up the chimney with glee, the Grinch decided to stuff up the tree. Again I say, open the front door. Better yet, I’m gonna chime in with, haven’t you ever heard of, open the goddamn door? No? Well, as the Grinch shoves the massive wood in the small opening, of which I can now see the appeal, he hears a noise. He tells the chimney to relax, it’ll be over soon. Actually, it’s a sign from little Cindy Lou Who who was no more than two. She asks why he’s taking their Christmas tree. I must say, she’s quite articulate for a two year old. Though again, kinda stupid. There’s a lot more missing from the house than the tree you caught him taking, but let’s just focus on that, cause after all, still two. Grinchy Claus lies and tells her there’s a problem with the tree, and that he’s taking it to his workshop to be repairs, before bringing it back. She buys it, and he gets her a drink, and sends her to bed. Then he got the tree up the chimney. He even takes the log for the fire. Time for the final robbing montage. Final verse. 

You nauseate me, Mr. Grinch. With a nauseous super “naus”. You’re a crooked jerky jockey, and you drive a crooked horse, Mr. Grinch. Your soul is an appalling dump heap overflowing with the most disgraceful assortment of rubbish imaginable mangled up in tangled knots. You’re a foul one, Mr. Grinch. You’re a nasty, wasty skunk. Your heart is full of unwashed socks, your soul is full of gunk, Mr. Grinch. The three words that best describe you are as follows, and I quote, stink, stank, stunk! 

 

At quarter to dawn, with the Whos still a-snooze, the Grinch took his loaded up sleigh, and headed home. Max, bless his little doggy heart, has to try and pull the full thing on his own. Poor puppy. A few cracks of the whip are motivation enough, and Max begins to get them up the side of Mount Crumpet, so the Grinch can take his load and dump it. Thought I was gonna make a load joke, didn’t you? Well, I’d hate to disappoint. Ahem, there once was a man from- what? The review is running long? We need to cut the load joke? Can’t we just-? But if I could- Sigh. The Grinch is delighted that the Whos are waking up. He can’t wait for them to realize that no Christmas is coming. He can just picture their mouths hanging open, Giggity, before crying boo-hoo. That’s a sound he can’t wait to hear. He ran to the ledge, placed a hand to his ear. Only he doesn’t hear what he expected. Fah who for-aze, dah who dor-aze starts up again. The Whos gather in the center of town and start singing, without any presents at all. The Grinch puzzles aloud to Max. It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes, or bags! Maybe Christmas, he thought, doesn’t come from a store. Maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more. Tender moments. Alright, running long or not, we need to break this down right now. Why the sudden message about presents making Christmas? This isn’t Peanuts. The Grinch never had an issue with presents being what the Whos were celebrating. Though it isn’t the birth of Who Jesus I can tell you that much. His crusade was to stop all the noise. Yes, he did a bit of overkill by taking everything, but he was trying to stop all the singing. He wasn’t out to stop the holiday. Granted, he could have just left a note asking them all to keep it down. Or he could’ve gone to visit the Sneeches, Horton, or even the Cat in the Hat, rather than staying home and listening to others have fun. Are y’all with me? Ok, on to the finale. 

The sleigh starts to go over the edge of the mountain, and realizing they’re gonna sing with or without presents, the Grinch decides to save them for whatever reason. Christmas miracle, or whatever. Dunno why hearing their singing didn’t annoy him this time. No, I’m not gonna let it go. It’s kind of a plot hole, if you ask me, which you didn’t, but it’s my review so I’m not gonna stop. Except I am. For now. He Grinch scrambles to save the sleigh, and Max too, cause might as well. He gets Max free, though more accident than on purpose, then goes to stop the sleigh. Which is on snow. Fighting gravity. Yay, toon physics! The Grinch’s small heart grew three sizes that day, and the true meaning of Christmas came through. He found the strength of ten Grinches, plus two. I know they needed the rhyme, but twelve. It’s twelve Grinches. Also, he now has an enlarged heart. Someone page Doctor Who. Yes! I’ve been waiting the whole time to break that one out! Now that his heart didn’t feel quite so tight, he whizzed with his load through the bright morning light. C’mon, I can’t ignore that one. What do you mean, let it go? This isn’t Frozen, and I’m not Elsa, I don’t have to let it go. Let it go! I am one with the wind and sky! Let it go! Let it go! You’ll never see me cry! Here I stand- You do not interrupt a diva during her number! The nerve! The cold never bothered me anyway! 

 

The Grinch rode back to Whoville, he brought all their toys. He brought back their floof to the Who girls and boys. He brought everything back, all the food for the feast. And the Grinch, himself, carved the roast-beast. He passes it to Cindy Lou, who gives it to Max. That’s right, puppy earned that! Boris repeats the non-Fah who for-aze, dah who dor-aze parts of the opening song, as we pan out to mountain, and see snow falling. We’ve come full circle. The last time I came in a circle was back in- oh, the review is over. Well, merry X-Mas everyone! Until next time, stay grinchy, and keep gabbing! 

Batfink – Pink Pearl of Persia 

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By Joshie Jaxon 

Greeting, geek fans! I’m trying to rally to what passes for normal for me, and figured a vintage cartoon post was just the ticket. It’s a quaint cartoon from 1966. There’s some good fifty year innocence here. And some good old fashioned 60’s racism, but that may be my modern mentality. I’ll allow you to decide for yourselves. Let the geeks begin! 

We open in the Batfink cave. Not the Batcave, that’s DC’s property. Batfink is not Batman. Though he’s a fun parody of Batman, there’s a legal distinction. Just to be clear. His assistant/partner, Karate is carrying a hero sandwich since Batfink is a hero. Batfink says he couldn’t possibly eat it all, so Karate gives it a chop with his hand, and asks if he’d like half. Alright, elephant in the room, Karate is yellow, with buck teeth, squinty eyes, and is wearing a Gi with a black belt. All he needs is a sign that reads “Asian stereotype”. Batfink on the other hand is a grey bat in a yellow suit with red shoes & gloves, as well as black wings. The hotlines goes off, and the chief appears on the bat-shaped tv. The priceless pink pearl of Persia has been pilfered. I do love me some alliteration. Batfink says he’ll be there before the chief can say “Jack Robinson”. The chief says he has a hard enough time saying the priceless pink pearl of Persia.

Batfink and Karate get in the Batillac, which is actually a pink beetle, and head towards the crime scene. See, not at all like Batman. This bat wears bright colors, rides in a pink car, and isn’t broody all the time. I say rides in the car cause Batfink is too important to drive himself. Better have the Asian sidekick do it. I’m sure there’s an Asian driver joke in there somewhere, but let’s press on. The drawbridge is going up, and rather than being a responsible hero and waiting, he needs to get to the crime scene now, cause more stuff may disappear. Well, you tell me. Karate is ordered to try and make the gap, and fails. Before they can crash into the water, Batfink flaps his might metal wings, and carries the car, with Karate inside it, to the other side of the bridge. 

At the museum, the chief shows Batfink the case where the priceless pearl had been, and says there’s positively no clues. Karate says not to be so sure, as Batfink has his supersonic sonar radar. Cause bats use echolocation, get it? Batfink squeaks and two “BEEP” words leave his mouth, explore the case, and the museum looking for clues. Then they return to Batfink, beep the info back to him and disappear. Just go with it. Chief asks if he found anything. Batfink points out the chief’s badge on the floor. Anything else? Yes, he found a really big clue. The chief says he doesn’t know how, as they searched the museum top to bottom. Batfink says he found it in the middle. *Snap! Side note, he’s got such sass on his face it’s perfect. Batfink says he knows who did it. The chief asks if he’ll bring them in. Batfink says no. 

Cut to a tv reporter stating that no reason was given for Batfink’s behavior, and that the police think he’s now on the side of crime. The entire nation is branding him a traitor. Geez, just cause he didn’t give you a clue that you and your staff were too stupid to discover on your own? These are as bad as the Gotham police in Hi Diddle Riddle. But this is totally not Batman. Upon seeing the broadcast, Karate is so upset that he splits the tv in half, cause that’s a reasonable reaction. 

Bad guy hideout. The mobsters see the paper stating that Batfink is a traitor. Since he’s now on their side, he should be cut in on their deal. Um, cause honor among thieves? Batfink didn’t help steal, but sure. Boss then picks up the phone and calls Batfink. *Record scratch Hold up, the mob boss just called Batfink. Picked up the phone, and called him. At home. In the Fink cave. I feel like you’re not getting the significance of this. It’s one thing for the cops to be able to call the hero, but how did the mob get his number? Are there, “for a flapping good time call Batfink at-” signs in the local restrooms? At any rate, they tell him since he’s been good to them, to come to the Surfside Motel, bungalow six. Maybe they met on Grindr once. Batfink says he’ll be there before they can say “Jack Robinson”. The mob boss says he has a hard enough time saying the priceless pink pearl of Persia. I sense a running gag. 

Karate takes Batfink to the hotel, as I’m sure he has before. Batfink tells him to stay in the car, again, as I’m sure he has before. Batfink knocks, they ask who it is, and he tells them. They tell him to come in. Repeat – They tell him to come in. They have a stolen priceless pearl, and they don’t even lock the damn door. That is some sixties bad guy for ya. Batfink enters, and they tell him they were just about to split the pearl. I’m no gemist, but wouldn’t damaging the pearl completely destroy its value, and make it worthless? Just throwing that out there. The little guy says Batfink can have the end cut. He says he’ll take it all, and return it to the museum. They call him a double-crosser, and start shooting their guns. Except the little guy who is using a goddam sling shot. Seriously. Batfink hides behind his wing, and says it’s a shield of steel. Karate hears the gunfire and assumes the fink is in trouble. He chops the door, and it falls on Batfink, causing the pearl to roll back to the bad guys. Karate calls his hand stupid, and says it’s going to be punished by spending the rest of the day in his pocket. Wow. As the mob celebrates having the pearl back, Batfink literally pulls the rug out from under them. To the Batmobile, er, Batillac. 

As Batfink and Karate take off, the mob gets in their convertible and chases them. The little guy who can barely see over the wheel is driving, cause sight gag. Batfink extends a wing, and causes a street lamp to shake. The bowl falls off, and lands on the little guy’s head. Not in a knock him out way, in a mock space helmet kinda way. It causes the to swerve into a billboard, but they rally and head after the Batillac again. Karate says he’ll turn down the ally to ditch them, totally missing the Dead End sign, cause Asian driver. They crash, and Karate apologizes, but at least he still has the pearl. That is, until the mob take it out of his hand. The cronies hold Batfink against a wall by his wings. Arms free. He could punch them at any time. They’re literally in striking distance. Mob boss says he may have wings of steel, but now he’s gonna have a belly full of lead. If I were one of the toadies, I’d be praying the boss was a good shot, otherwise, awkward. Batfink says his wings may be pinned, but he still has use of his supersonic sonar radar. Ugh! Don’t show off your bat powers! Punch the bad guys! Bite their necks! C’mon, man! Sigh, fine. BEEP flies towards the mob boss, and the sound of it disorients him, and makes him cover his ears. Then, and only then does Batfink punch one of the cronies. He then tosses the little guy into his friends. Guess he had a plan all along. 

 

Back at police HQ, Batfink explains how when he said he had a clue, and knew who did it, he was bluffing. It was his way of getting the crooks to come to him. Yeah, cause it’s not like they didn’t already have your number or anything, or that you saw them online for bat play at the motel. Whatevs. The chief says at least they’re done with the pink pearl of Persia. Then the phone rings. Oh no! Someone just stole the sacred Siamese star sapphire of Sicily. I’m not even gonna break down all the things wrong with that one. That cartoon ends, and we’re left on that “cliffhanger” of a joke. Tune in tomorrow, same Fink time, same Fink channel. Totally different! Don’t sue me. Until next time, stay geeky, and keep gabbing. 

Pride Post – End of an Era, Trumpocalypse Now

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By Joshie Jaxon 

Greetings, geeks fans. I come to you today with a heavy heart, and unless you’ve been living under a rock, I’m sure you can guess why. I’m not a political person. I detest politics, campaigning, and the never-ending commercials. I haven’t seen kitty pics or food porn as a regular feature on my timeline in months. It’s been nothing but post after post, and meme after meme about how one candidate was worse than the other. At nearly 35, I’ve lived though several elections, but this one was brutal. I did my best to tune it out, and try to maintain some sense of normalcy in my life. After all, my primary philosophy has always been to not have an opinion what people do with their lives, until or unless it affects mine. Now, while that can hold true most of the time, it was the wrong mentality to have about this election season. Had I seen it coming as a real possibility, I’d have been extremely worried. 

Rightfully so. After all, I’m sure there were many of us that saw him as a joke. There were even some that assumed all of his behavior was taking to the extreme in order to sway things towards Hilary. Whatever the case, we were all wrong, and there’s not a damn thing we can do about it. Like many of you, I was glued to the Internet on Election Day, especially as polls started closing. Any information that would give me a feel for how it was going to turn out. I managed to get through the work day, but I still wanted to check results. It was both good and bad, that is, until the first update I saw had red all over it. I shook my head and dismissed it. It was far too early to be worried. I got home, had some dinner, and attempted to watch tv. I kelp being drawn to CNN, and knowing what the tally was up to. I grew disheartened as I saw more and more red showing up on the electoral map. I attempted to return to what I usually watch, but I couldn’t. It was though part of me knew that the results of this election were too important to ignore. 

I kept texting with Bri Bones, and as things grew tighter and tighter, we both knew what the outcome was going to be. Each of us were positively gobsmacked. There was no way that this man had made it this far, let alone was winning, but there it was on my screen. Even with my limited political knowledge, I knew we’d lost. A pain that cut even deeper as we lost the House and Senate as well. Anderson Cooper, and others echoed my thoughts, “what happened?”. I still don’t have an answer for that. By my logic, you pick the person best qualified for the job, even if you don’t like them. Not everyone likes their boss, but someone has to make the hard calls, and it needs to be someone who can handle it. I’ll never know what made as many people vote for Trump as they did, and that’s probably for the best. I don’t want to know what’s in their minds. What I do know is that we missed out on someone who has been in the political machine for decades, and would’ve continued the progress we’ve enjoyed these last eight years under the Obama administration. She had the popular vote, despite the electoral results. 

The immigration to Canada site crashed as so many people were trying to figure a way out of what was coming. I don’t blame them for wanting to escape. Fighting for your life is exhausting under normal circumstances, now pile on an administration that doesn’t care about you or your peers. I have friends of all colors, sexes, and sexualities. Every single one of them is worried, as am I. The stories I saw being posted on the first day after the unthinkable happened have been upsetting to say the least. From people threatening to grab women by the pussy, cause our soon to be commander in chief did, and if he can they can, to elementary children telling their classmates of color to get ready to be deported. People harassing innocent black people. My trans friends are worried for their very lives. You thought bathroom controversy was bad, I can only imagine what the future will hold. Muslim-Americans question if they should leave the country, or not wearing the scarves of their religion for fear of being assaulted, or worse. It hasn’t even been 24 hours yet, and it’s breaking my heart. If all of that is just a sample, I don’t want to see what happens when he’s sworn in. 

I love my country, and have no desire to leave, but as I stated, fighting is exhausting. I haven’t experienced this level of dread since before, and immediately after, I came out. Despite being in Utah, for the most part, I’ve been lucky enough to be left alone. Most people don’t peg me as gay until I open my mouth and speak. Many of my friends, who I consider family, aren’t as lucky. I don’t know what the future holds, but one thing is clear, we have four years of whatever it is until we get another qualified person in the White House to clean up the mess left by the republicans before them. We’ve survived Stonewall, Prop 8, Pulse, and more, but we’re still here. It is important now more than ever that we unite in our similarities and not be driven apart but the differences. Stay strong, my friends, our fight isn’t in vain. 

Beetlejuice – Skeletons in the Closet

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By Joshie Jaxon

Greetings, geek fans! Today I bring you a treat from the late 80’s. Some of you may not be aware that in addition to the Tim Burton movie, there was also a Beetlejuice cartoon. There are great nods to the movie throughout, such as the exterior of the house, and music by Danny Elfman. However, there are key differences. There’s no Barbara & Adam, and Lydia and Beetlejuice are friends. As you know, I like to do the premier episode of a series, but it’s a drawn out babysitting gig. Instead I’ll be selecting one of the toons from the second episode, as it features more of the show’s characters, rather than establishing Lydia’s friendship with the ghost with the most, which is obvious, and didn’t really need to be stated. We can infer from context. Let the geeks begin! 

We open on a dark and stormy day. There are dogs barking, and we see a skunk pop up, and start running towards Casa Deetz. Inside, Beetlejuice and Lydia are dancing in the air. He says he loves it there. Where he comes from, when it rains cats n dogs, it really rains cats and dogs. Lydia questions him, and he responds with, “would I lie?”. She answers, yes. Beetlejuice puffs into an angel costume, and says she knows him so well. More barking outside, and the skunk runs up a tree. Beetlejuice opens the door, commenting how nice it is to have real rain hit his face instead of a dog or a cat. As he says that, the skunk jumps onto his face, and they tumble into Lydia’s room. Beetlejuice comments that’s it’s a cute woodland critter. Then he sniffs it, and says it smells good. Lydia tells him it’s a baby skunk. Then she says it needs to use less perfume. Beetlejuice sniffs it’s tails, and says corral no 5, and wonders where he’s smelled that before. Then he raises his arm, sniffs, and we hear a foghorn. Yay, gross out humor. Oh wait, it’s for kids. Burp! Fart! Pee! Am I popular yet? 

 

Moving on. Lydia, complete with nose plug, dries the skunk with a hair drier. Beetlejuice asks what she’s gonna do with the nose-number. Lydia says it needs a good home, at least until the storm clears. Beetlejuice shakes his finger at her, and reminds her of her mom’s warning about bringing insects, worms, and wild animals into the house. On cue, Delia knocks on the door. Beetlejuice hides in the closet. Lydia puts the skunk in there with him. The door opens and Delia says the smell is coming from in there. Now, given what I know of the effects of, shall we say, herbal refreshment, they should be giving Lydia the don’t do drugs speech right now. Lydia swears it’s the aftershave she bought for dad. He says he’s gonna grow a beard. Delia says that’ll make him look like a gorilla. He says why not, he’s gonna smell like one. No, hippie. You’ll smell like a hippie. They leave, and Beetlejuice compliments Lydia on her lie. She says she hated to do it, but she was thinking of Stinky. Beetlejuice says she won’t be able to keep it secret for long. Lydia tosses the skunk at him, and says it’s going to stay at his place. Beetlejuice starts to protest, but Lydia is already saying his name. As she says it for the third time he asks if he’s invisible. Too late. Time to go to the Neitherworld. 

The first thing we see there is a veggie stand called Rooty Bagas. Yay, puns! Beetlejuice says Lydia shouldn’t worry, and that a little white lie never hurt anyone. From BJ’s Roadhouse we hear a creepy voice from his closet repeating “lies, lies, lies”. Lydia walks up to the neighbor’s fence to say hi to his dog, Poopsie. Beetlejuice turns into a cat and harasses the dog. Lydia asks what’s wrong. He says the dog is always giving him a hard time, but doesn’t know why. From the now shaking closet we hear, “lies!”. Beetlejuice steps in front of his door and says he can’t have pets. The door opens, and his skeleton friend, Jacque says they can’t have pests, even though Beetlejuice lives there. Jacque says Lydia’s friend is always welcome, no matter how it smells. Beetlejuice calls him out on not having a nose. Lydia declares that Stinky can stay, then asks Beetlejuice if he ever tells the truth. He says he does all the time. Then we hear the voice say, “Beetlejuice is lying.” He says that’s a song his neighbor’s sing. We then hear more of “Lies, lies, lies”. 

Inside, we meet a lady spider named Ginger. She tells Lydia she likes her skunk, and doesn’t even mind the smell. Beetlejuice whispers that if she had eight feet smell wouldn’t bother her either. Ginger asks if they want to see her new dance step. Without waiting on an answer, she starts dancing. Lydia and Stinky watch, while Beetlejuice pulls a face. When she finishes, Ginger says those dance lessons he sold her are paying off. He replies that yeah, they look great. We hear the creepy “Beetlejuice is lying” again. He looks at the closet, and there’s streams of light coming from it, with the chant of “lies, lies, lies”. Beetlejuice looks worried, and quickly hammers the closet closed. Lydia says something strange is happening. He says nothing strange ever happens to him. That’s when the doorbell rings. 

It’s the monster across the street. He’s Texan, and has the voice to match. He’s a cross between Yosemite Sam and the Red Monster from Looney Tunes. He asks if Beetlejuice has bothered his dog. Beetlejuice says no, and the boards he just nailed in come breaking off the closet, and the door opens. Two ghostly skeletons appear, repeating “Beetlejuice bothers your dog”. Uh oh. The monster asks what he just heard. Beetlejuice loudly declares that he didn’t bother his dog. The monster asks why he’s so upset then. Beetlejuice says a mailman bit him. Monster says the mailman is gonna get a knuckle sandwich, special delivery. Light is still pouring out of the closet. Lydia and Beetlejuice stand against it. She asks what’s in there. He says talking dolls he got from the neighbor kids. He says he likes to good good deeds, it’s just who he is. The closet can’t take it, and burst open with a green light. Ghostly skeletons escape repeating the same “lies, lies, lies”. 

Lydia says he’s got skeletons in his closet. Well, HAD skeletons in his closet. Then two of them going flying to Ginger’s door, knock on it, and tell Ginger that Beetlejuice hates her dancing. Ginger starts crying. Skeletons go to the monster and tell him that Beetlejuice bothers his dog. Monster is angry. Skeletons tell Rooty Baga that Beetlejuice steals his fruit. Lydia informs Beetlejuice that his skeletons are telling on him. Ya think? The closet glows, and a smaller, girly, skeleton comes out saying “Lydia lied to her parents”. Capt. Obvious tells Lydia that one was hers, and it’s gonna tell on her. Every lie you tell in the Neitherworld gets you a skeleton in your closet. Most closets can hold a dozen, but his closet is big. That’s why he moved into that place. Lydia’s skeleton starts floating for the door back to our world. Beetlejuice says over the years his skeletons just kinda, built up. Lydia asks how to stop them. He’ll have to look that up. Too bad an angry mob is forming. A skeleton knocks on Jacque’s door and says the Beetlejuice likes him, even though he pretends to hate him. While digging through books, Ginger confronts Beetlejuice about not liking her. He says he doesn’t like anyone. Cue Jacque, happily saying how Beetlejuice likes him, and running towards him. Beetlejuice opens the door, and causes Jacque to collide with the mob. 

Lydia says that Beetlejuice’s skeletons are upsetting everyone. Ginger is still crying. Rooty throws fruit at Beetlejuice. Lydia finds how to get rid of skeletons. Jacque asks why anyone would want to. Lydia says the only way to get rid of skeletons in your closet is to tell the truth, and that he can’t run from them anymore. He says he doesn’t needs her help. “Lies!” He can handle the problem. “Lies!” It’s not his fault. “Lies!” He didn’t know. “Lies!” Lydia demands he tell the truth about something, and asks who his best friend is. Jacque says its him. Ginger knows it isn’t her. Beetlejuice says that Lydia is his best friend. When he does, some of the skeletons pop. Beetlejuice says that truth stuff really works, and Lydia should try it quick. She says she’ll tell the truth about the skunk. The skeleton appears in front of a half-asleep Charles, and starts to say Lydia lied, but disappears. Charles chocks it up to Delia’s cooking. The next morning Lydia returns the skunk to the woods and says that’s one less skeleton in her closet. Beetlejuice agrees, but says it’ll never smell the same. 

 

Don’t you love it when a creepy cartoon still manages to have a moral in it, without being all preachy about it? Everyone got the lesson, right? I know I did. Until next time, stay geeky, and keep gabbing! 

Disney Dynasty – The Legend of Sleepy Hollow

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By Joshie Jaxon 

Greetings, geek fans! A new Halloween post is here. I’ve loved this one since I was kids, though admittedly, part of it scared the bejeezus out of me. As a kid it was scary imagery, as an adult it’s putting myself in that situation. More on that as the show progresses. Let the geeks begin! 

Our story begins in colonial New York, a short distance from Manhattan, in a place called, say it with me now, Sleepy Hollow. It’s a quiet, quaint little down, but it’s also foreboding. It is full of twilight tales, and local superstitions. Hey, they didn’t have internet, they needed to entertain themselves. Incidentally, the story is narrated by none of than Bing Crosby. I tell you this so when I say that Bing said, you don’t think I’m using the internet. Besides, he’s got such a pleasant voice. Bing tells us that there’s a tale of a local schoolmaster who once frequented the area. A pedagogue described as a most unusual man, one might mistake for a scarecrow. Tall, lank, small head, flat on top, with a long, snipe nose. As if a weathercock were perched on his spindle neck. We get it, he’s thin. It’s colonial times. Girl needs a sammich. 

One drowsy afternoon, at the old Snooker & Schnapps Shoppe, the rustic Sleepy Hollow Boys were gathered. Their leader, Brom Bones arrives, with a “yahoo”. Bing tells us he’s a burly, roistering blade, always ready to fight or frolic. I just bet he is. He’s a prankster, but there’s no malice to them. He’s loved in the whole county. He then opens a keg, pours a round for the guys, the breaks open the lid so that his horse and the local dogs can drink too. Yes, this is still Disney. It’s the 40’s, be glad that it isn’t historically worse. As the guys finish their drinks, Brom sees Ichabod through the bottom of his glass. He says “odd bodkin! Gadzooks!” It’s so quaint, I love it. 

Time for a musical number. The library is open. “Who’s that coming, down the street? Are they shovels or are they feet? Lean and lanky. Skin and bones. With clothes a scarecrow would hate to own. Yet, he has a certain air. Debonair and devil may care. It’s the new schoolmaster, what’s his name? Ichabod. Ichabod Crane.” During this song, Ichabod is sauntering through town with his nose in a book. He managers to avoid walking under a ladder, and also turns around a black cat that attempts to cross his path. Remember that, people. It’s a character point. As he continues, he opens a gate for a woman with a tray of pies. One appears in his book, and he scarfs it down. Told ya, girl is hungry. The townspeople all agreed they’d never seen anyone like Ichabod Crane. 

The school became Ichabod’s empire. With lordly dignity, he held absolute sway. We see him peeking in kids’ lunch baskets as they’re doing their work. He sees two boys drawing a picture on their slate of him as a bird. Bing tells us that Ichabod believes in the golden maxim, “spare the rod, spoil the child”. As we see him wind up to take a swing, yes really, he notices the heaping lunch the kid has, and decides to discriminate. It’s better to stay on good terms with the kids, especially if their moms could cook. Cut to Ichabod at a student’s house, sniffing the fresh turkey that the mother just finished cooking. Are we sensing a pattern?

Ichabod is in bed writing in his food journal, again, yes, seriously, as Bing sings. Who’s the town’s ladies man? Gets around like nobody can. I dunno if he’s putting out for these moms, or just charming them for food. I’d like to think he’s a man whore. After all, you know what they say about tall, thin, guys; they have big… Appetites. We’re also told that he has creative ways of padding his limited income. *cough hooker! *cough. By means of introducing culture to the town, as their choir director. We hear the ladies sing in harmony as Ichabod “boms” some notes at them. They’re all seduced and practically swooning. Dunno if that’s in the book, or just an excuse for Crosby, either way, it’s fun. As he’s finishing, Brom is outside, and gets a dog to howl on the final note. Ichabod thinks it came from himself, but the ladies are too wet to care. They all hit the ground, captivated. Bing tells us it was only natural that Ichabod be the ridicule of Brom and his gang, but despite that, he maintained an even temperament. Rather than indulging in the ladies, he instead takes advantage of the salad on the table. He doesn’t even toss it. Not a single leaf. 

Then there was the fateful day when SHE came to town. Katrina Van Tassel. Side note, I had a teacher in middle school who claimed to be her descendant, but given how the rest of the story goes, that wouldn’t have been her last name, and therefore wouldn’t have been his. Katrina was the daughter of the richest farmer in the county. Bing describes her as a blooming lass, plump as a partridge. Ripe, melting, and rosy-cheeked. Um, that’s a little much, Bing. Town it down. He sings of her being a coquette, as we see her charm all the local men into unloading her cart, setting up a picnic, then moving it to a better location when she objects to the first. That’s kinda diva, but not in the fierce way. That’s just taking advantage. Bing confirms it by saying she’ll kiss and run, to her, a romance is fun. There’s always another to start. Tease! Ichabod is on a date, but sees Katrina and is dumbstruck. He sits on the cake, puts the chicken on his head, and starts eating his hat. Look, I know the pickins had to be slim, but she can’t be that great, can she? 

Schoolhouse, kids running wild. Book propped up at the head of the class with the beatin’ stick, er, pointer. Ichabod is busy daydreaming. Katrina, would could resist your charm. Who could resist your father’s farm? Gold in those acres, and that ain’t hay. Oh, Katrina my treasure. Treasure. That barn is a gold mine. He’d love to hit the jackpot. Alright, this is definition of gold-digger. He even goes so far as to think that daddy can’t take it with him, and once he dies, Ichabod will step in. Poor little rich girl. Ichabod will protect you. Men are pigs. Only wants her for her looks and her money. I get it, you don’t want to teach forever, but c’mon. Seriously, grow a pair and take care of yourself. 

In town, Katrina is shopping, and handing her purchases to one of the various men that are smitten with her. I’d like to point out that in To Wong Foo, a group of guys were ready to gang bang Miss Chi Chi on day one, yet these ones, despite outnumbering her, are content to carry her stuff. Yes, Disney universe vs our own, I get it. However, given that she knows what she’s doing, and Ichabod’s fantasy proves he doesn’t care about her at all as a person, the whole thing is just stupid. For the record, I don’t condone “rape culture”. I’m not saying she’s asking for it. Are we clear? Good. Ichabod seems to think brains will give him an advantage in the dating pool over the bumpkin locals. What he didn’t count on was Brom clearing them all away. Bing says it piqued and provoked Katrina. Ichabod shows up and picks up all the packages the other men had left when Brom made them leave. Katrina gives some good side-eye to Brom, then smiles at Ichabod. He begins to walk her home, but stops at a small stream in town, and takes off his coat so she can step on it and not ruin her shoes. Side bar, if she’s using him, and he’s more than willing to be used, are they still both bad people, or does that make them a perfect match? Brom ain’t having it either way, and races on his horse through the muddy water, covering Ichabod, and somehow sparing Katrina. She’s on the back of Brom’s horse as he gathers her things. Not wanting her game over, she pulls a handkerchief from her bosom, and tosses it at Ichabod. He’s not giving up! 

In fact, Ichabod is so motivated, that he beats them to Katrina’s house, on foot. Who’d have thought the smell of colonial boob would be that great? Ichabod opens the gate, and offers Katrina his arm. She glances at Brom to make sure he’s seeing this, then leans in close before the walk on. Ichabod closes the gate, forcing Brom to fall over it, and drop all of her purchases. Uh oh, you don’t mess with a girl’s shopping. Ichabod and Katrina laugh, and the former stacks all the parcels back in Brom’s arms before escorting the lady inside. Brom scrambles after them, trips, and drops everything again. Ichabod goes out again to help pick things up. Brom is mad. The lower half of Katrina’s door is closed, so second base is the limit. Kidding. He kisses her hand and waves her off. As he turns to leave, Brom takes a swing at him. Ichabod goes inside, and closes the door. A lady, unescorted during the day? Scandal! He grabs flowers off the table and hands them to her while giving her goo goo eyes. She looks up and sees Brom trying to look inside the window above the door. Katrina places a flower in Ichabod’s lapel, and pulls him close. Brom wants in! Brom smash! Until he hears a kissing noise, and starts to go mad. It’s only Ichabod kissing a flower, but still. Ichabod leaves, and Brom grabs him by his ponytail. He’s all lined up to punch him, when Ichabod waves and we hear Katrina “yoo-hoo” from the window on the upper floor. Brom dusts him off, waiting for the curtains to close. When they do, he takes a blind swing, and punches a hole through a tree. Repeat, punches a hole through a tree! Cartoon or not, this is set in the real world, so damn! 

 

As the Van Tassel annual Halloween frolic drew near, Katrina decides to stoke the fires of the smoldering rivalry, by personally inviting Ichabod. We see him spiffing up in front of his mirror, and “splashing” himself with chalk dust. To this day, I don’t know why. It’s not fragrant and sure wouldn’t have been back then. Anyhow, he rides the horse he borrowed for the party, whistling the whole time. 

At the party, Ichabod feels he has the edge, and prides himself on his dancing. Brom sits to the side, feeling he’s been bested. As Ichabod is being charming and graceful, Brom notices a plump wallflower. She smiles at him, and he winces. Jerk. Big girls need love too. Brom then gets the idea to dump her on the schoolmaster. He offers her to dance; she grabs him and holds on for dear life. Cause after all, as we’ve learned from the past, women are nothing without men, so she isn’t about to give up her only chance at happiness. Yes, he hits me, but you just don’t understand! Sad to say there are still some out there with this mentality. Where was I? Oh yes, the dancing. The plump girl in green is laughing at having fun. Brom manages to get her with Ichabod, but he quickly trades back, and gets away from them. Brom chases after them. He tries to leave his dance partner on a bench, but she won’t go without a fight. He manages to lock her out of the room, and begins trying to get Ichabod to fall into the cellar. Doesn’t work on both counts. She busts in the lower half of the door, and goes right for Brom. I’d like to point out that for her height, there are several moments it looks like she’s giving him head. As LeVar Burton says, you don’t have to take my word for it. 

As the evening passed, Van Tassel asked his guests to tell ghostly tales of Halloween. Ichabod, busy loading up a plate, spilled the salt, and tossed some over his shoulder. Brom knew that Ichabod was a believer in spooks and goblins. This would be his moment. Gather round, and he’ll elucidate, on what goes on outside when it gets late. Round about midnight ghosts and banshees get together for their nightly jamboree. There’s things with horns and saucer eyes. Some with fangs about this size. During this, Ichabod is eating, and looking a tad nervous. Then the guests chime in. Some are fat, and some are thin. Some don’t even wear their skin! The window is blown open, the candles go out, and a girl screams. Ichabod wraps himself up in a curtain, as Brom sings. “When the spooks have a midnight jamboree, they break it up with fiendish glee. Ghosts are bad, but the one that’s cursed is the Headless Horseman, he’s the worst. When he goes a joggin’ across the land, holding his noggin in his hand, demons take one look and groan, and hit the road for parts unknown. Beware, take care, he rides alone! There’s no spook like a spook who’s spurned. They don’t like him, and he’s really burned. He swears to the longest day he’s dead, he’ll show them that he can get a head. They say he’s tired of his flaming top, he’s got a yen to make a swap. So he rides one night each year, to find a head in the hollow here. With a hip-hip, and a clippity-clop, he’s out looking for a head to swap. So don’t stop to figure out a plan, you can’t reason with a headless man.” During the whole tale, Ichabod looks like he’s gonna wet himself, and Katrina is super amused by it. Yeah, it’s just a story, but if you don’t know that, it’s pretty damn terrifying. Think about it, someone wants to cutoff your head and keep it as their own. It’s very Mombi. Brom says if they doubt his tale is so, he met the spook a year ago. He didn’t stop for a second look, but made for the bridge across the brook, cause once you cross that bridge my friends, the ghost is through his power ends. 

Later that night, as Ichabod rides home through the hollow, he’s filled with anxiety and terror, as the details of Brom’s story are in his mind. The clouds cover the moon, and the wind is making spooky noises. He tries to whistle his way through it, but as the crickets, frogs and toads are making noise, he can’t. He swears they’re croaking his name. He runs into what looks like a ghost, but it’s just a tree with two fireflies in it. Then the croaking almost sounds like “uh oh”. A crow/raven nearly collided with his face, cawing “beware”, as we see the cemetery. Ichabod hears galloping, but his horse isn’t moving. He gets off, and tries to push it into going. When that doesn’t work, he ties pulling. He ends up falling backwards next to a log where cattails are beating against it, making the hoof noises. Ichabod laughs nervously as he discovers there was nothing to be afraid of. He even grabs some of them, and laughs maniacally, as he walks back to the horse. The horse gives himself over to laughing along with him. That is, until they hear the evil laughing of someone that isn’t them! They look over, and there’s the Headless Horseman! He pulls out a sword, and a flaming pumpkin from nowhere. Run, girl! 

The Horseman takes a swing, but Ichabod dodges it, and scrambles with the horse to get away. There’s nearly two minutes of the Horseman taking swings at Ichabod as he tries to escape. It doesn’t sound like a lot, but when you’re watching it and invested, you’re right there with him. There’s no streetlights, no cops, not a lot of people in the “new world”. It’s just you, and someone without a head, on a horse, with a sword, trying to kill you. That shit’s scary. Here’s the worst part of it, as a kid I thought, oh it’s just Brom trying to scare him, but he produces the pumpkin from nowhere, and it taking swings not just at Ichabod, but at the horse. Bing established earlier that there’s never been malice in Brom’s pranks before, which leads me to believe that in this particular cartoon universe, the Headless Horseman is real. Further evidence of this, is that when Ichabod finally makes it through the bridge, the Horseman stops. If that’s Brom, he wouldn’t feel the need to honor that part of the legend. Even though he stops at the bridge, and Ichabod makes it to the other side, the Horseman throws the flaming pumpkin at him. Ichabod had been looking back, and was paralyzed with fear, the inference is that the pumpkin hits him in the head. Now, if the Horseman can’t cross the bridge, how would the pumpkin be able to? These are the things I think about. For that matter, the Horseman just wants head. I’m sure Ichabod could have managed to give him some to keep himself alive. Hell, in a life or death situation, I’d offer it up. Gotta go with your strengths.

The next morning, Ichabod’s hat is found, and so are the remains of a pumpkin. No trace of the schoolmaster. Can’t cross the bridge. How would he have gotten rid of Ichabod? Cut to a short time in the future where Brom and Katrina are married. Bing tells us there were rumors of Ichabod still being alive, and married to a widow in another county, but the people of Sleepy Hollow wouldn’t believe it. They knew he was spirited away by the Headless Horseman. *Bing mic drop

There you have it, ladies and gents. Another glorious Halloween tale. I got another today from the stop-motion animation era. I’ve never seen it. I don’t know how good or bad it’ll be, as it’s from 1967, but I’m working on it for you. Until next time, stay geeky, and keep gabbing!