Q. How many dog breeds are there?

A. Ruff-ly three hundred!

Q. How did the Witches’ Supply Company, Inc., get eye of newt into tins?

A. With a fiendish in-can-tation!

Q. Why did the organic gardener forget to turn his compost heap?

A. Because he was non compost mentis!

Q. What did the boxer’s ex-wife get him for his birthday?

A. A pair of socks!

Q. Who writes this stuff, anyway?

A. [redacted]

Announcer. And now Malt-O-Cod, the delicious malt food drink flavored with real cod-liver oil, presents…

(Music: Fanfare played on a portable reed organ.)

Announcer. The Adventures of Superego!

(Music: March theme on organ, under for…)

Announcer. Yes, it’s Superego, the hero your parents want you to admire. Dressed respectably in a dark grey suit with deep maroon necktie, Superego fights an unending battle against the forces of chaos and wanton doyourownthingism.

(Music: In full, then fade.)

Announcer. As you recall, in our last episode, Superego had finally come face to face with Sir Edward Iddington, a diabolical villain who insists that he has the right to do what he wants because he’s a big boy now.

Superego. You’re wearing one mauve sock and one red sock with a green Christmas tree on it. What would your mother say?

Sir Edward. Irrelevant! I can do what I want! I’m a big boy now!

Superego. Yes, but what will people think when they see your mismatched socks?

Sir Edward. They will think that I have ankles! And they will be perfectly correct!

Superego. Well, I came here to negotiate with you about the articles of capitulation you sent to the Secretary General of the United Nations, but I’m not sure I can get past the socks thing. Do you really think that the Security Council will agree to turn over control of all their armed forces to a man who can’t match his socks? And I haven’t even brought up the plaid jacket with striped pants. You look like a used-car salesman. Supervillains who get ahead in the world are the ones who dress respectably. I mean, look at Vladimir Putin. Except when he’s posing for pinup calendars, he’s always in a suit and tie. And his socks match.

Sir Edward. Ha! That is because Putin is a supervillain without imagination! He is hardly super at all! His puny proletarian mind can imagine nothing beyond conquest and world domination—the poor, circumscribed dreams of an idle schoolboy!

Superego. But you just demanded the entire United Nations submit to your unlimited authority. How are your dreams any less circumscribed?

Sir Edward. A mere stepping-stone! An intermediate stage! A way-station on the route to my ultimate victory! A Howard Johnson’s on the turnpike to my ideal world!

Superego. And what will you do with the world once you have it under your control?

Sir Edward. I will give it liberty!

Superego. Liberty? But we already have liberty. We have a republican form of government, under which the people elect representatives to make the laws by which they are governed. This is the only sure foundation of personal freedom.

Sir Edward. Incorrect! You have negated your argument by your own words! The people make laws! Where there are laws, there is no freedom!

Superego. Then how would you govern the world?

Sir Edward. I would give the people liberty! They will want to eat ice cream for dinner, and I will say, Yes! You may! They will want to leap off the porch roof to see if they can fly, and I will say, Yes! You may! They will want to lynch their immigrant neighbors for speaking Spanish at home, and I will say, Yes! You may! They will want to blow up public buildings just to watch them go boom, and I will say, Yes! You may!

Superego. But that’s complete chaos. The human race couldn’t survive that kind of anarchy. We’d be extinct in a year.

Sir Edward. Precisely! I will give the people rope enough to hang themselves, and I will say, Yes! You may! And then there will be no one left to tell me what to do! Ha! Ha ha, ha ha ha! Ha, ha ha ha, ha ha ha ha ha!

Announcer. Is this the end of civilization as we know it? Don’t miss next week’s philosophy-packed episode of the Adventures of Superego!

(Music: March theme, in full and under for…)

Announcer. Of course, girls and boys, when you talk about liberty, there’s only one freedom that really matters. That’s the freedom to drink Malt-O-Cod morning, noon, and evening, and any time you get a craving for the rich, satisfying flavor of malt from contented barley and oil from the cream of the North Atlantic cod fisheries. Tell your parents you’ll stage a revolution if you don’t get your Malt-O-Cod every day. And, in honor of America’s upcoming 250th, look for the red, white, and blue powder in specially marked packages. It’s the malt food drink that’s brain food—Malt-O-Cod!

(Music: In full, then out.)

No. 348.—The Speke’s Pectinator.

Once upon a time there was a Speke’s Pectinator who lived near the town of Holhol in Djibouti. Now, you’ve probably heard all kinds of stories about Speke’s Pectinators before, because you’re just the kind of boys and girls who like to trip up a poor old lady who’s just trying to make a few extra bucks on the Internet by telling educational stories, and you’re going to write in the comments about all the things I got wrong about Speke’s Pectinators, but I don’t think so, not this time, because I looked them up in Wikipedia. So this Speke’s Pectinator was wandering through the shrubby shrublands of Djibouti when he met a Pelzeln’s Gazelle. And the Pelzeln’s Gazelle said to him, “Oh, please, could you pectinate for me? Because I’ve never seen anybody pectinate before, and it would just about make my day.” But the Speke’s Pectinator said, “No can do, because I don’t pectinate for just anybody, you know.” And the Speke’s Pectinator continued on his way, and he met a Grevy’s Zebra. And the Grevy’s Zebra said to him, “Say, would you pectinate for me? I’ve heard a lot about it, but I’ve never actually witnessed a live performance, so to speak, and it’s my birthday next week.” But the Speke’s Pectinator said, “Not this time, buster, because I don’t pectinate for just anybody.” And the Speke’s Pectinator kept walking, and he came to a Ferruginous Duck. And the Ferruginous Duck said, “Hey, you must be a Speke’s Pectinator, and I could use some pectin for my guava jelly. Would you pectinate for me?” But the Speke’s Pectinator said, “Amscray, bird, I’m tired of everybody asking me that.” And I could go on like this, but I think you all get the point, and it turns out the Speke’s Pectinator never did pectinate at all. Now, isn’t that a shame? But it just goes to show you. This story teaches us a good lesson, which is that you can’t make assumptions based on people’s appearance. Like everybody thought my uncle Stu looked like a fireman, but the one time our house caught fire Uncle Stu was the first one out and he didn’t come back until Aunt Emma went down to Krzrnski’s Cafe and dragged him off the barstool and made him call the insurance company. And that’s the lesson we learn. Next time we’ll hear the story of the Patagonian Mara who lived in Duluth, and I’ll bet I get comments about that one. Till then this is your old friend Mrs. Cheswick saying clean up your room, and that should make people stop saying I’m a bad influence on kids, shouldn’t it?

No. 61.—The Chipmunk.

Once upon a time there was a chipmunk. Now, you’re probably thinking you know all about him already. You probably think he was Chipper, and he ate Chipped Ham, and his name was something alliterative like Chester or Cholmondeley, or even something like my name, which is Cheswick, except that’s my last name, and we’re talking about his first name, which wasn’t alliterative with “Chipmunk” at all, and you might think it was but you’re wrong. His name was Ralph. But he hated the name Ralph, so he went by the name Abernathy. However, no one he knew could remember the name “Abernathy,” so they all called him Phil. So one day Phil the Chipmunk was out gathering nuts in the woods. He gathered some chestnuts, and he gathered some walnuts, and he gathered some butternuts, and he gathered some peanuts, and then he said, “Wait a minute, peanuts don’t grow in the woods. I must be in a field in Virginia or Georgia.” But he wasn’t in a field, and someone had put the peanuts there just to fool him. I don’t know why they wanted to fool a chipmunk into thinking he was in a field in Virginia. Some people are just like that, I guess. So while Phil was gathering all these nuts, along came a red squirrel, and she said, “What’s your name?” And he said, “My name is Abernathy.” And she said, “Really? What a coincidence! My name is Phil, too!” And they lived happily ever after except for the mortgage crisis in 2007, when they lost a lot of the nuts they had invested. This shows you that you shouldn’t use nuts to speculate in dubious loans, but you should bury them in the woods instead, and then they’ll grow into big nut trees, and you won’t have the nuts, but someone fifty years later long after you’re dead will be able to eat nuts from those trees, or maybe bury them and make more trees, and eventually we’ll have nothing but nut trees as far as we can see. I hope we all learned our lesson from that. Next week I’ll tell you the story of the itsy bitsy spider who had a lemonade stand in Nuuk, which didn’t work out very well for her, but I don’t want to spoil it for you. Till then, this is your old friend Mrs. Cheswick saying eat your granola or something, cause I want to have a good effect on you kids.

Announcer. And now Malt-O-Cod, the only malt food drink flavored with real cod-liver oil, presents…

[Music: Fanfare.]

Announcer. The Adventures of Sir Montague Blastoff, Interplanetary Space Dragoon!

[Music: Theme, in and under for…]

Announcer. As you remember, in last week’s episode, Sir Montague and Colonel Darling were on their way back from performing a routine orbital tuneup on Pluto when they spotted a strange alien ship from a race never encountered before by human beings.

[Music: Fade.]

Sir M. I say, Colonel, what can your panel full of glowing rectangles tell us about their ship?

Col. D. It’s not much of a ship, Monty. It seems to be powered by a very basic thermidorian reactor. And I don’t think it has any weapons, because if it did, this rectangle would be red, and it’s more of a sort of chartreuse color.

Sir M. Then they must be peaceful explorers, which will save a rotten lot of paperwork when we get back to base. See if you can hail them with the universal hailing thingy.

Col. D. Sending standard greeting now. Oh, look, Monty! This rectangle is glowing green! That means they’re responding! Let me see if I can— There! I have the strange extraterrestrial creatures on visual.

Alien voice. Greetings, strange extrafilzippial creatures. We are explorers from the planet Filzip, and we are intensely curious about your planetary system.

Sir M. How delightful! We’ll be more than happy to tell you about the solar system. We’re rather proud of it, if you don’t mind my saying so.

Alien voice. How is your planetary system configured?

Sir M. Well, we’ve got eight planets. Well, nine. Or rather eight. Actually, we’re still having arguments about that, don’t you know. But they’re all lovely places. There’s Mercury—

Col. D. It’s so romantic there! If you stand in the right place, you get a perpetual sunset.

Sir M. And then there’s Venus—

Col. D. I love the saunas!

Sir M. Quite so, though the acid does tend to sting a bit. And then there’s Earth—

Col. D. Earth has the best shopping.

Sir M. Earth is also where the Interplanetary Space Command headquarters is, of course, which I’m sure accounts for some of the shopping.

Col. D. And then there’s Mars. Borrrr-ing.

Sir M. Mars is rather suburban. Everyone tells me it’s a very nice place to live, but not really known for its cultural opportunities. But then Jupiter—

Col. D. Not much there, is there, Monty?

Sir M. True, but the moons are quite trendy. Likewise with Saturn, although Triton is a bit run down these days. Mostly tawdry ten-cents-a-dance ballrooms and that sort of thing.

Col. D. They’re not that tawdry. I mean, not that I’d know, of course, but still…

Sir M. But there’s still quite a bit of undeveloped property on Uranus and Neptune. I understand the land is being sold off in lots at very reasonable prices.

Col. D. Might be a good place to settle down and raise a family, right, Monty? I mean, hypothetically.

Sir M. Yes, quite. Hypothetically. On a purely hypothetical level. —So that’s our solar system, and I hope we’ve given you the information you wanted.

Alien Voice. Thank you very much. You have provided the necessary information for our invasion.

[Music: Stinger.]

Sir M. I say! Invasion?

Alien Voice. Our system has just two cruddy planets, and we’re running out of room. Yours sounds ever so much nicer.

Col. D. But, gosh!

[Music: Theme, in and under for…]

Announcer. Will Sir Montague and Colonel Darling be able to stop the alien invasion they seem to have started? Don’t miss next week’s dialogue-packed episode! Till then, kids, don’t forget to wear down your parents’ resistance. They may think you don’t need more Malt-O-Cod, but you know you can’t let a day go by without the rich, satisfying flavor of real cod-liver oil. Tell them you need a fix now, or you can’t be responsible for your actions. It’s the malt food drink that’s brain food—Malt-O-Cod!

[Music: In full, then out.]

No. 118.—The Gopher.

Once upon a time there was a gopher. Actually it was a groundhog, or a woodchuck. I’m pretty sure they’re the same thing, but I don’t know whether a gopher is the same thing as a groundhog. Or a woodchuck. I’m leaning toward saying that it is, but I know someone is going to look it up in Wikipedia and prove me wrong. I suppose I could look it up in Wikipedia first and forestall all that, but then I’d never get my story done, would I? So there was this gopher. Or groundhog. And there was also another groundhog or gopher. So anyway, the first one said to the second, “Hey, what’s that stuff on the back of your neck?” And the second one said, “That’s fur.” And the first one said, “Oh, I see. Do I have fur, too? Because I never see the back of my own neck.” And the second one said, “Yes, you have fur, and if you wanted to see it, I could take a picture of the back of your neck with my cell phone.” And the first one said, “Well, that sounds like a good idea, because then I would be able to see the back of my neck.” You see, groundhogs don’t have mirrors, so they can’t usually see the backs of their necks. Though come to think of it, they couldn’t see the backs of their necks even if they did have a mirror, could they? Well, I suppose maybe if they had two mirrors. I’ve never seen the back of my neck in the mirror, but I’m pretty sure I have a neck. So anyway, the first gopher took a picture of the back of the second one’s neck. No, I’m sorry, it was the second one who had the cell phone, and he took a picture of the first one’s neck. I think. And then the first one looked at the picture and said, “Well, my neck looks pretty much like yours. I guess we all look alike, neckwise.” And the second gopher said, “Not Willoughby over there, because he had an unfortunate encounter with a lawn mower, although the lawn mower came out of it worse than he did.” So anyway, that’s how the two groundhogs learned to be careful of lawn mowers, which was a good lesson for them, and I hope you learn it too some day. And Willoughby lived happily ever after in spite of his bald spot, so don’t feel sorry for him. So that’s our story of the two woodchucks, and I hope we all learned our lesson from it. Next week I’ll tell you the story of the family of barn swallows and how they learned to beware of telephone scammers. Till then, this is your old friend Mrs. Cheswick saying I hope you all listen to your parents and don’t go reporting them to Children and Youth Services just because they left you locked in a hot car and you came down with heat stroke, because really you were fine in a couple of days.