The Lost Episode of Beetle Bailey

This is a fictional joke story written by DaveTheUseless. Don't take it seriously, fellas.

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Hey there, you. I have a story to tell you—not because I want to tell it, but because I have no choice. So much for free will—which is kind of ironic, because my name is Will, and I am no longer free.

So, I have a question for you have: have you ever heard of the classic American television cartoon 'Beetle Bailey'? It was based on a newspaper comic that was supposed to be about the U.S. Army, but instead of going to war they would do silly things like refuse to wake up on time to practice their military drills, or go golfing when they were supposed to be on kitchen duty. All in all, it wasn't very realistic. Or so I thought, until my real life was... changed. Changed... forever................

I was on a date with my babe, Fiona. She had nice hair. Freckles. Cute smile. Tight ass. Grandma suggested that a yard sale would make for a romantic date, and who was I to disagree? I considered buying a double VHS set of Titanic, 'cause my girl had never seen it before (Fiona, that is—grandma is a big fan), but it was too expensive (the only change I had on me was a Sacagawea dollar.) Luckily, the guy who ran the yard sale was Native American, and pleased to accept my humble coinage offering for a different tape: 'Beetle Bailey in: The Summer Blockbust'. Now, I had no idea what a Blockbust was, but I did name my dog 'Blockbuster' after a Summer that we lived off of the video rental chain's popcorn, candy, and soda products, so I gave the tape a purchase. And to Fiona, a 'holla!'.

You know, things kinda turned sour right after that. Grandma was driving us home, and was chatting me up as she always did, but as for Fiona, she was unusually quiet. Once I got around to doing the math in my head, I put two and two together: she was pissed at me for not buying the Titanic VHS. "It isn't that I wanted to see the movie, William.", she explained. "It's that you're poor."

Well, shucks. That wasn't very Christly...

I had grandma put on a cassette tape of the Animaniacs singing songs about movies and world geography. Otherwise, the ride home was awfully quiet, until we pulled into the driveway and I made a desperate attempt to lighten the mood.

"I'm sorry, honey. I didn't mean to bug you."

No response. I paused for a bit. Still nothing.

"Get it?" I remarked. "'Cause a beetle is a kind of bug!", I snickered. Still no response. I gave Fiona a nudge, as if she hadn't yet deduced my attempt at humor. I turned around to catch a... a horrifying sight.

It was Fiona. She looked...disheveled. Her eyes had turned bloodshot. A vein was visibly popping out of her forehead. "You better prepare your will... Will." It was then that I realized that I had committed a titanic disaster!

Anyway, we walked past the graves (we lived in a cemetery) and headed into the house to start watching the tape. I got us some cokes, and set up the cables to get the VCR working.

Now, I know you wouldn't believe me, but as I was setting up the tape player, I heard a voice inside my head. "Eat at Joe's!", it hissed. I know this sounds really weird because it was in my head rather than written, but I could tell that the voice was in some sort of MS Gothic font. I asked grandma if she had said something, but nope. She said it was probably grandpa from beyond the grave. I agreed.

At that point, I had the tape set up. Fiona was in the bathroom, doing whatever girls do in the bathroom (I've never seen a girl naked before, so I don't know much about that.) I was pissed at her for the disheveled scare from earlier, so I started the tape without her.

"He's the military hero of the nation!", the theme song began. "Yeah, right!", I thought out loud. "That's what they want you to think!". The theme song ended with the single-toothed Sgt. Snorkel shouting "Beetle Bailey!" in a voice that sounded like he had smoked far too many cigarettes.

At that point, I really needed to take a dump, but Fiona was still in the bathroom. "You're missing a great show!", I tried to coax her out.

It didn't work.

At that point, it was clear to me that I had two possible options: I could trey to hold it in like a trooper (see my clever military reference?), or I could go out back and relieve myself.

I temporarily shut the tape off. In the process, I tripped over the color-coded coax cables and knocked over my and Fiona's Mexican-style coke bottles. This disconcerted me for a moment, but Blockbuster was a good boy and came over to lick up the syrupy spoils.

"I bet Colin Kaepnerick wouldn't salute Beetle Bailey", I thought to myself while pissing into an unmarked grave. I went to zip up, thinking that I had taken care of my 'unfinished business', but...

I was startled. It was that voice again! It scared me so badly that I zipped my zipper into the area between my penis and scrotum, causing me some untimely pain. "Try Welding that Johnson!", the ghost hissed at me.

"What do you want of me!?", I howled back at 'Casper'. No response. I wondered why the spirit mocked my political preferences, but I shrugged it off when I remembered that I needed to feed Blockbuster (certainly, he would need something to eat along with that coke), so I grabbed some Aleppo dog food off the shelf and prepared to feed my furry friend (my dog... not my penis.)

By the Time I went to turn the tape back on, Fiona was sitting on our living room ottoman, anticipating the return of our television-viewing pleasure. "I'm sorry about what happened earlier, baby.", she explained. "I was on the rag."

Well, that made sense. "No harm, no foul." I pressed play. The scene had changed to Beetle and the rest of the Camp Swampy crew inside of an old-fashioned movie theater. "Why'd we have to watch this cheesy flick?", Beetle Bailey asked. "Because no one loves you.", Sgt. Snorkel hollared back. Rude... but probably not inaccurate.

I was smiling from the innocuous nature of this 1960s throwback animation, but that was before I realized what was really going on. My heart skipped a beat when I...I saw the name of the film they were watching.

'Titanic'. But not just Titanic. 'Titanic... The Poor People Version'.

A chill went straight down my spine. My penis started hurting again. I looked over at Fiona. She was the one smiling, now.

"I'm glad you're enjoying the tape, baby.", she said through her toothy grin. Well, I wasn't...but O.K., I guess!

When I checked the TV again, what I saw was...strange. It wasn't a zoom-in of Beetle Bailey's face, but it wasn't a normal cartoon person's face.

I guess it's strange that I knew something was wrong, but I just...knew. In these old Beetle Bailey cartoons, Beetle's not always covered his eyes and hair, but I could see them in my mind. They made him look like a mix between an angry groundhog and Seattle grunge rock legend Kurt Cobain.

I turned back over to Fiona. She was giggling maniacally, like someone who had just stared into the devil's eyes. To be honest, it was kind of cute.

Feeling guilt that I found pleasure in something satanic, I adjusted my focus back to the tape. The scene had changed to the mess hall, where the Camp Swampy crew eats their meals. The program had changed to showing us the chef, Cookie, preparing supper.

"You know, Beetle." Cookie started, even though no one was present with him in the kitchen. "A baby is a lot like a meal. Takes ingredients from mom and dad. Takes nine months to cook."

Ugh. At that point, I remembered that I still needed to go #2. I made way for the bathroom, and...and...

Nothing—and I mean NOTHING—could have prepared me for what I saw.

"What the frig is this!?", I screamed. The ...the corpse of a he-goat laid in the corner! The walls were smeared with blood! A crimson pentagram decorated the wall sinisterly. This...would not do.

Grandma had gone hunting quail, even though it was night time. This gave me an opportunity to clean up the bloody mess, but first, I had to dump my girlfriend. I tried searching the living room, but she was nowhere to be found! I considered calling the police, but I decided having her out of my life was enough. I briefly forgot about the satanic offering in the bathroom, because I had a VHS tape to finish watching.

The screen was kinda staticy, but I could see what was going on. The guys were in the barracks, but nothing was going on. The camera stayed this way for about a minute. Thanks to the static, I know that the tape hadn't paused.

I crapped myself after what happened next. Sgt. Snorkel had suddenly ran straight into the image, but... he was dead! The Sgt.'s skull was close-up, zoomed-in...and it was on fire! "Join us!", it exclaimed. "It's not like you have a free will ...Will!".

The camera suddenly panned to the corner of the room. The infantry was crammed into a corner ... sweating, fidgeting, eyes bulging! Rocky, Plato, Zero. All of the boys were there, frightened out of their minds. ... Except for Beetle...

Suddenly, there was a loud rummaging. A camera pan revealed that someone was frantically trying to open the door! Could it have been...

And that...was the moment when it all hit me.

For years, Mort Walker's critically-acclaimed funny paper strip lampooned American military matters and poked fun at the U.S. Army with severely satirical slapstick, but never—ever—did it have much to say about any real life military operations.

Until now.

The door burst open with a banging thud. It was Beetle. "Aloha Ackbar!", Beetle Bailey exclaimed, his hat retired for good. The groundhog Cobain face could be readily seen now, but instead of human (or groundhog) eyes there were blank sockets, with bloody eyeballs oozing down all the way to the floor!

Snorkle's skull pulled out its sole remaining tooth, in horror. Snorkle's dog, Otto, whimpered. Cosmo choked on his own cigarette. Could anything save Camp Swampy now?

Suddenly, the camera zoomed to the door. Rampant footsteps could be heard. And our heroes' last hope revealed himself to be...

Bernie... Sanders!?

"I'm going to redistribute your ASS KICKING!", the fizzy haired candidate screamed. A songbird, happily perched onto his fingertip, fled down the hall to peck Beetle Bailey in his pitch black blood sockets!!

At that point, the tape went straight to pitch black. I was speechless, but I realized the point of all of this. There was a break from the program to get me to think. Not just about this cartoon, but about sociopolitics and life.

When the footage returned, it was Bernie Sanders as President. Strange, given that Hillary Clinton was the nominee. President Sanders stared directly into the camera, to give a speech—and he stared directly into my soul.

"Will.", he began. "I understand your lust for liberty. This is reflected in your libertarian politics. But there is something that I have to let you know...

Your girlfriend's dead. But she wasn't always dead. You killed her, in your eyes. But it isn't about what you saw, so much as what you didn't see." Bernie paused. "You didn't see Titanic. I mean, who the fuck hasn't seen Titanic?".

At that point, the power went out. Blockbuster was a good boy, and brought me a flashlight. I checked the VCR, but... the tape was gone. As it had already taught me a lesson, I suppose it decided that its work was done here.

I went outside to catch my breath. Grandma came home with a couple bags of quail. I told her about the bathroom mess and how Fiona was dead. She said that, somehow, she already knew.

You want to know what else is funny? That grave I pissed in, earlier? It was Fiona's. Not only that, but she was the ghost of my grandfather. Turns out reincarnation is real, and it's my fault that is. Apparently, I was the first man, and everyone else who ever lived is just another rebirthing of myself, in an attempt to do things right and break the cycle for good. Fiona, grandpa, grandma, Blockbuster, the Native American gentleman who sold me the tape... they're all me. And I'm you, too.

As for now...?

I'm building more graves at the cemetery. It's a family cemetery, so I need enough graves for the entire world. So I dig, dig, dig, dig, dig, dig, dig. All day and all night. For the rest of my life. Except for bathroom and meal breaks, of course. And sleep, but all of life is a deep sleep dream in the eye of the originator, really.

Anyway, I'm hungry. It's time for my lunch break.

I think I'll eat at Joe's.

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