The Fastest Draw in the North!

Happy Xmas and Merry Holidays and all that jazz to all of you all!

Fessy Monroser

Fessy Monroser will complain to anybody about anything. At all. In fact, he will also complain to anything about anybody. I once saw him tell a fire hydrant that Emperor Charlemagne was too short and not nearly alive enough for his tastes. And, of course, when the fire hydrant tried to reason with him, he just started yelling to passers-by that fire hydrants are sexist. By the way, he may attempt to muddy the waters of social discourse with irrational irrelevancies. But then, I suppose that's to be expected . . .

Holiday Cheer Times!

Well, the holidays are looming low upon us now, and what better way to stir up that Yuletide cheer than with Robo-Cheer-Bot 1292-C! Robo-Cheer-Bot 1292-C is programmed to be the ultimate in cheery holiday fun providing and maintaining! His exhaust fairly reeks of cinnamon and cloves, and his parts are lubricated with authentic old-fashioned home-style nogs, both egg and otherwise! His voice is an electronic amalgamation of Gene Autry, Jim Nabors, and Doris Day, all culled from the festive lyrics of their most famous Christmas Carol-style songs! (With just a hint of Boris Karloff as "The Grinch!"!)! Robo-Cheer-Bot 1292-C's brain is a highly sophisticated piece of wonderfully advanced jolly equipment, composed utterly from recycled stocking stuffers! His hands are designed completely for unwrapping gifts for the elderly and infirm, and are 73% jingle bell! So go ahead on and grab your mitts over Robo-Cheer-Bot 1292-C, for all your finest holiday seasonal joy!

Available exclusively next summer!

The Morose Tale of Peter Henderson

From the very first day it first touched his tongue for the very first time, Peter Henderson has adored the taste of booze. Any booze. At all. It's just about his favourite thing, second only to the wondrous sensation of losing yourself alongside sobriety as the alcohol systematically takes over your entire being. How terrifically sad, then, that Peter is really only a giant head, with no sort of system of organs or anything to process alcohol. And that his arms are so teeny, he can't really get a bottle near his lips. Thus is he consigned to a purgatory of sombre sobriety.

Also, he ugly.

Ike Punt: Unpleasant Furniture Manufacturer

Please don't misunderstand. It's not the furniture. The furniture's fine. Hell, it's gorgeous. To die for, as the kids say. And he makes everything. Chairs, couches, tables, end-tables, stools, lamps, even lanterns! Also sofas and chesterfields, not to mention benches and sideboards and bookshelves; plus knick-knack display chests, decorative step-ladders, entertainment centres, and love-seats! He personally inspects all the wood procurement, and demands naught but the very finest animal-hide substitutions. In his hand, mere furniture becomes art - Nay - exceeds art, smashing through the glass ceiling of art to blossom into some new, fabulous hybrid of personal architecture and aesthetic glory!

It's just that he himself is a bit of a twat.

What it Really all Boils Down to.

Unlike most people, Marvin doesn't have a little angel and devil living on his shoulders. Rather, he's got The Planet Lenny telling him filthy gossip about people he's never met; and then on the other side is Darin Millstrop, who yells convincingly at him about things that really aren't his fault. And if you think about it, that's all any of us really have. Because angels and devils aren't particularly real.