Well, isn’t this a surreal delight! I have no idea what exactly is happening here, if any “thing” can truly be said to be “happening” in such a nonlinear dreamscape. “Hold it right there, Professor,” the strangely well dressed pet store clerk bellows, as a flock of oddly identical birds arises in precise formation from Heathcliff’s pipe. Why attempt to impose some kind of dull linear “meaning” on this episode at all? Why not just enjoy it in all its trippy nonsense?
Gasoline Alley, 2/28/13
Meanwhile, in Gasoline Alley, beloved rustic Rufus is still planning on marrying a donkey, for money. They’re … they’re really doing this, huh? I would have though they’d have stopped doing this by now.
You know, before today I would’ve said that Marvin had pretty thoroughly explored the dramatic and comedic possibilities of feces, but I hadn’t even dreamed of the concept of revenge-shitting.