CHIP: Sigh, just when I was beginning to think Fridays were safe again.
FUZZYWIG: The boss says we have to do an episode today because he always posts something on Friday the 13th.
CHIP: That makes absolutely no sense.
FUZZYWIG: Which makes it perfect for Shelf Critter Theatre, Chipster!
CHIP: Do not ever call me Chipster again! So, what kind of insanity is going to walk onto the set today?
HANK FOX: Howdy, folks!
FUZZYWIG: Plot development at 4:20.
CLETUS RACCOON: Y’all don’t reckon you could DI-rect us to the location of the farmer’s market, do ya?
JIM BOB SQUIRREL: We’re kinda lost.
CHIP: I’d say you are! It’s still summer and your pitchfork says “Autumn!”
CLETUS: I reckon autumn actually starts on the first of September!
JIM BOB: Meteorological autumn, that is!
HANK: Says so right here in the farmer’s almanac!
CHIP: This almanac’s from 2002!
FUZZYWIG: Does it list the best days to plant MARIHUANA?
CLETUS: I reckon you can find all kinds of agricultural tips in this thing. It never goes out of style!
HANK: Unlike brother Jim Bob’s hat!
JIM BOB: Sure! We’re all brothers! Can’t ya tell?
FUZZYWIG: Brothers from different mothers, maybe.
HANK: Hey, you city folks are on the ball!
CLETUS: I reckon we three did share a Pa, at least!
JIM BOB: Pa really loved the critters around the farm!
CHIP: OK, that is WAY too much information after two weeks without SCT!
And all of a sudden….
SHADOW: Greetings, critters!
HANK: Now that right there’s somethin’ you don’t see everyday.
JIM BOB: It’s sorcery!
CLETUS: I don’t reckon you know anything ’bout those crop circles that keep showin’ up in the corn field, would ya, varmint?
SHADOW: I am a vastly intelligent being, and I’m fairly certain that “reckon” isn’t really a word!
CLETUS: I reckon you’d be wrong.
HANK: Now now, brother. He does look purty intelligent! I’ll bet this varmint made it out of fourth grade even!
SHADOW: I am NOT a varmint! I am an umbreon, one of the most highly evolved and super intelligent beings in the entire universe! And I will not let you three yokels call me…
HANK: Hey, whatever you say there, varmint! We don’t mean no harm!
JIM BOB: Yeah! Besides, I like bunny rabbits!
CLETUS: I reckon you got yourself a new fan there, varmint!
SHADOW: I don’t have the time nor the patience to deal with uncouth country bumpkins! I’m leaving!
Shadow disappears in a puff of smoke.
FUZZYWIG: So that’s how you get rid of that varmint. Chip, take notes for next time.
CHIP: With any luck, there won’t be a next time. This whole story is ridiculous, even by this blog’s low standards!
MARY: Oh wow! Farm boys!
CHIP: You might want to be careful around them, Mary! I think they only exist due to our laxly enforced bestiality laws.
FUZZYWIG: The apple never falls far from the tree…. which is good since I’ve usually got the munchies.
MARY: I’m counting on it! This lamb’s ready for a little ram jam, baby!
FUZZYWIG: Bam ba lam.
HANK: Um… howdy, miss.
MARY: Don’t play coy, country boys! Show this little sheep what happens when the barn door closes!
CLETUS: I reckon this one is a bad influence.
JIM BOB: Shouldn’t that be baa-aaa-aaad influence?
MARY: (Shaking her little woolly tail) Come on, boys! We’re all mammals here!
CLETUS: I reckon we could use a little mutton for Sunday dinner this week!
MARY: OK, I’m not into being eaten like that! Guess I’ll go find a shepherd that knows how to use their staff. Later, gators!
FUZZYWIG: You dudes sure know how to show some restraint. That Mary’s a pretty fine piece of a…
FUZZYWIG: Uhhhh, I said, she’s in a pretty fine class.
CLETUS: I reckon she was afraid we’d really eat her.
HANK: Heck no! We’d never do that!
JIM BOB: She wouldn’t go well with the possum pie.
FUZZYWIG: Possum pie, did you say?
BUSTER: Oh wow, I do love me some possum pie! My mom used to make the best possum pie! In fact, the neighbors loved it so much, they came right over and shot daddy too so they could make another one!
CHIP: (To the audience) And you think your family has issues.
HANK: That’s really swell and all, but we don’t shoot possums for our possum pie!
CLETUS: I reckon we only use imaginary possums.
JIM BOB: We’re a cruelty free farm! Except for the praying mantises!
BUSTER: Well gee, that’s not right!
BUSTER: (Plopping down in front of the trio) Go ahead, guys! Shoot me, skin me, and extract my meat for the best possum pie you’ve ever tasted!
JIM BOB: Is this critter serious?
CLETUS: I reckon he is, brother Jim Bob.
HANK: No. We just can’t do it, brothers. What would our Pa say?
JIM BOB: Yeah! He didn’t even slaughter the sow when it gave him gonorrhea!
CLETUS: I reckon you’re free to go, possum. We’ll continue to make our possum pie with the secret family possum-free recipe…
SNUGGLE: Dude! You pansy asses are a joke!!!
JIM BOB: Oh, the humanity!
CLETUS: I reckon I might have a bandanner to tie around his wound as a tourniquet…
SNUGGLE: NO! You’re gonna let this possum bleed out, run him through the meat grinder, and put him in your next pie. Or I’m kicking all of your asses back to the county line! This is Shelf Critter Theatre, dudes! Act like you’re a part of it if you wanna hang with us!
Snuggle shoves the mutilated possum into Jim Bob’s “gather” bucket and walks out.
HANK: Now I know why Pa never went to the city!
CHIP: Not every populated area is as fucked up as the Shelf is.
FUZZYWIG: It’s something in the weed around here.
CLETUS: I reckon we should turn tail to the back forty before we meet anymore of y’all’s friends.
FUZZYWIG: Too late…
HANK: Come again?
MITZI: Yes, please, like, cum again!
CLETUS: Jim Bob! I reckon you should take your hat off in the presence of this lady!
JIM BOB: I can’t, brother Cletus! It’s stuck to my head!
FUZZYWIG: I wouldn’t worry about it, brother dude. That’s no lady.
MITZI: Mitzi is, like, too a lady! I’m totally not one of those Trans Ams!
CHIP: Mitzi, these poor visitors from the country have really seen enough of this Shelf. Don’t you have an appointment for a lapdance or something you should be running off to?
MITZI: No, but…… oh, like, Mitzi totally needs to get to the plastic sturgeon’s office so he can, like, refill the botox in my horn! Buh bye my widdow barnyard buddies with bennies! Don’t forget to let Mitzi know if you, like, need to have your your horsies’ “stuff” collected for the breeding farm!
HANK: Yeah. So…
CLETUS: I reckon we should probably leave while the gettin’s good.
CHIP: I’m terribly, terribly sorry for what you all had to experience today. You guys seem so innocent. Believe me, I know all too well…
FUZZYWIG: Y’all are welcome back anytime you wanna help us make some laughs for the readers out there. It really is the second best medicine next to….. well, you know….
JIM BOB: I think I’ve been scarred for life! Does that make me a snowflake?
HANK: We better get back and finish the harvest before it starts rainin’. Bye y’all…..
RAINY: WAIT A MINUTE!!!! Did you say….. RAINING!?!?
CLETUS: I reckon brother Hank actually said “rainin’,” but it’s close enough for horseshoes.
RAINY: Take me with you if it rains out in the country!!!! I have this rain gauge, and I never get to use…
HANK: Brothers, ya know, I think she’s exactly what we’ve been lookin’ for to help in the field!
CLETUS: I reckon you’re right, brother Hank! We don’t need to go to the farmer’s market after all!
JIM BOB: Now I won’t get play with the gourds!
HANK: Follow us, ma’am!
RAINY: Yes! I’m so excited!!! I’m finally going to get to collect some rain in my gauge! I’m so happy to help you nice boys out measuring precipitation!
HANK: Don’t mention it, ma’am!
CLETUS: Yep, I reckon you’re a godsend!
JIM BOB: You’ll be the perfect scarecrow for our cornfield!
CHIP: Yeah, I don’t think they’ll ever be coming back.
FUZZYWIG: I hope she didn’t ruin the possum pie.
CHIP: I’m just glad we got this stupid Friday the 13th commitment out of the way so we can go back on hiatus again and maybe live normal lives…
SANTA: The next Friday the 13th is only three months away, putz!
SANTA: Just 61 more shopping days until Friday December 13th!
CHIP: Maybe I can find a civilization without Friday the 13th on their calendar. Or Fridays period!