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September 17, 2006

The New Yorker Cartoon Anti-Caption Contest #67

Submit the worst possible caption for this week's New Yorker cartoon. Click here for last week's results. Click here for an introduction and "rules" to this contest. Click here for amplification of those rules. Click here for contest index.

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"You see, thanks to the dog, our fingerprints will not be on any of the small pieces of paper, so no one will be able to prove that it was we who buried the girl's lifeless body under small pieces of paper. In my office."

Results after the jump

Winner
"Yes, he's quite useful. Frankly, I haven't seen a dog bring in that much money since 'Superman Returns'." —TIm C

Finalists
"To succeed here, you have to work like a dog to bring in the cash. Oh look, here's my dog now. He's not bringing in cash though, just the take-out menus that he fetches from Chinese restaurants. It makes me a little nervous, truth be told, because I'm afraid they might capture and eat him. Is that racist?" —John Tabin

"Regretfully, I must now leave you to your fate. Goodbye, Mr. Bond." —Walt

Posted by Daniel Radosh

Comments

My father, who showed very poor judgement in facial hair decisions, nonetheless had an excellent command of the 'dog eat dog' apothegm.

"I know the help wanted ad wasn't specific, so let me give you some more info... Basically, you'll be working in the Dog Ate My Homework receivables department. Obviously you won't be able to tell anyone about your work."

It's says it right here in your contract, if you win "The Price Is Right" you get all your winnings up front, but not until you neuter at least one dog.

In our business, loyalty counts more than the smarts. Take Snuffy, for example: he is kind of slow, but has the longest tenure here.

To succeed here, you have to work like a dog to bring in the cash. Oh look, here's my dog now. He's not bringing in cash though, just the take-out menus that he fetches from Chinese restaurants. It makes me a little nervous, truth be told, because I'm afraid they might capture and eat him. Is that racist?

"Hey. Make eyes at your *own* secretary, bub."

"Thank you, Sparky. Just add those to my In pile. Boy, you go on vacation and the work really backs up."

"He's a Halliburton Terrier. They were originally bred in the 19th Century to steal money. Nowadays mostly I use him to steal money. I love stealing. And money. So the two together is, like, awesome."

"Henderson, you've been a model employee for years, and I'd be most honored if you'd jump into my special pile of While-You-Were-Out notes. It's really fun, I promise. My dog is fuzzy. He's a widdle fuzzy lovekins. Jump! Jump!"

"Here at Bancroft, Kimble, and Bancroft, we expect you to work like a dog. That one, to be specific."

"Our auditors were here. We need to work on our internal controls."

"We need more cuts. I want this quarter's surplus to be at least ten feet high."

"It's raining out, so I told him to pee in the large pile of cash."

"I told my dog that, as long as he paid for it, then he could have a novelty portrait of himself with sideburns and a moustache, as well."

"In conclusion, diagonal lines are a good way of indicating glass windows-- Hey! Are you listening to me?"

"Computer?" "Telephone?" Honestly, Fergusen, sometimes I think you must have gotten your MBA from Radio Shack.

"Jack Russell? No. That's Jack Chick. He's delivering his latest comics for publication."

"Arf! Arf! Arf! That's right. I speak dog."

Dammit, that dog keeps coming into the office and making a pile of what may or may not be money. I mean, seriously. Double-yoo tee eff?

"Bad dog! I told you to fetch a pig mile of bunny! Don't you know what that is?"

I'm sorry, but we've already hired this terrier to replace Nancy Schrom Dye. Thanks for your interest in the position, though.

TCM: There's a joke for you, me and Vance Lehmkuhl.

You've got to let somebody handle the money. It was him or the Jews.

"No, the people behind the mirror can see the dog just as plainly as you can. When I asked you if you noticed anything strange, I was hoping that you could confirm that father is still chiding my actions from beyond the grave."

"He's a running-dog capitalist, doy."

"I don't see what's so fucking funny about--oh, wait, here's the dog with more paper. Thanks, Farfel."

"That's no dog, that's my magpie."

"My accountant's a real bitch."

"Why does your iguana have floppy ears?"

"I'm Satan and that's my lapdog Dick. He pissed his name on the rug."

"He thinks he's people. Greedy, unorganized people."

"When I said go find some bones, I had no idea he would look up the word in the Urban Dictionary."

Regretfully, I must now leave you to your fate. Goodbye, Mr. Bond.

"At Prescott, Fitzsimmons and Bartelby we make monmey the old fashioned way--we retrieve it."

(That should have been "money")

Spot is helping me collect Camel Cash. I'm saving up for the satin jacket.

"You know, in all the years of my giving these so-called 'job interviews,' you are the first and only one to recognize the eyes of that dog staring at you from the portrait of our founder. So congratulations - here's your winnings!"

Someone left the door to the vault open again dammit.

Beats the hell out of the bomb-sniffing beast we had in the mail room.

He knows if he stops he'll be put down.

"Now, if it were 'Money Fetches Dog,' we'd have a story."

You see I'm really into Roman culture. The piles of books, the sculpture of Romulus, the painting of Cesar...and now all I need you to do is put on that gladiator suit and tell me I've been a baaaad CEO.

"Bad dog! I told you to catch a fountain of mash!"

"Let's get one thing straight: this pile belongs to me. Your pile will be coming from Rex's other end."

Yes, he likes to cover up his big, stinking messes with piles of borrowed cash - god knows where he got that idea...

"Did you know that any money that a dog brings you is tax-exempt? Think about that the next time to try to tell me lobbyists are a waste of company resources."

That should be "...the next time you try to tell me..."

"Whenever the dog leaves a pile on the carpet, it'll be your job to launder it."

"We rescued him when the pound was about to collapse. Get it-- 'pound'? It's a currency pun. I've got a 'yen' for those. Hee hee. It's from when I used to work for the 'Rand' corporation. Haha. Oh, wait, a yen is a desire, not a knack, isn't it? Oh well, whatever, you get the idea."

"You see, ever since we abandoned the gold standard in 1933, we've relied on 'dollar retrievers'."

"Yes, he's quite useful. Frankly, I haven't seen a dog bring in that much money since 'Superman Returns'."

"Because he can. Duh."

"Sure, it may seem odd to you, but trust me: Radar's on the cutting edge -- soon all magazines will pay their writers this way."

"No, I don't know where it comes from, nor do I care. All I know is, the day he stops fetching it is the day this whole company collapses."

"As I'm sure you know, every store coupon has a value of 1/100th of a cent. So once a week, Jeffrey here goes and fetches the Sunday coupons from newspapers all over town. Then we cash them in in order to meet payroll. Honestly, this whole 'Morgan Stanley' thing is just a front for the operation."

"Grampa built this company from the ground up. Grampa saved every dollar he earned. Grampa lost his vision so I sent him this well trained seeing-eye dog. Grampa still thinks his life savings is well hidden in his mattress. Silly Grampa."

"He's actually very generous once you get to know him, but first you have to get down on all four and sniff his butt."

"Financially speaking; 'dog is my co-pilot'."

"This trick is impressive. But I once trained a dog to give me a sarcastic look whenever I watched "Oprah." Now that was genius!"

I know the two things you love most are cash and sneaky dogs, so for your bonus this quarter you get to choose between a big ol' pile o' dough or a dog who's been trained to steal mouthfuls of money and then inconspiciously back away from the scene of his theft.

There he goes again. Stealing from my cash pile, then walking backwards out the door.

So, that should give you a good idea of the kind of work we do here at Visual Non Sequiturs, Inc.

Whoops, I think Adam Cole-Kelly beat me to the joke.

(This is not a caption submission. Or...is it?)

We don't just believe in the natural hierarchy, but more specifically, in a social one of our own imposition as well. In many ways you'll be starting at the bottom of that hierarchy, but you understand that, of course.

You should see her play the ukulele. Would you like to? What are you and the misses doing tonight?

No, I didn't think he had a sense of humor either.

"Well, he's a real son of a bitch, but he's a big earner so we keep him around."

"Whichever of you brings in the most money won't have his balls cut off. Looks like Rex here has a running start."

"I believe he won it in the poker game going on next door."

"Don't take this the wrong way or anything, but have you ever fellated a dog? Just asking."

We've tried teaching him the rudiments of modern portfolio theory, but he just lets it sit while inflation eats away its value. So actually,no, he's not that smart a dog.

"The funny thing is, he thinks he's a cash cow."

"If you can get past their idiosyncrasies, annuities can be very attractive investments."

"As my sainted father used to say: Money is grand. But money laced with puppy breath? Divine!"

"This really is a rather unique theme restaurant, wouldn't you say? I'm sorry your side of the table doesn't have any leg room."

ď...and thatís what I do, like my father, and my fatherís father before him. The take is a generous sixty percent; I donít know what it does with its forty, and I donít care. But Iím telling you, Warczynski, if youíre serious about making money youíll liquefy those mutual funds and put it all into dog pussy. So to speak.Ē

Excuse me a moment... This buys you ONE week, you lowlife scum. I don't see the rest by Friday, the bitch dies.

I insist he replace the taste of dog-ass with that of sweet, sweet money before he licks my face.

"As a senator, I'm always listening to my constituents. And now I'm about to hear what PETA has to say."

Caucasian pleeeese! You want to run with my posse, but you don't give me no respect like my dawg here.

"That dog is the reincarnation of my former partner. His picture is on my wall. I never get tired of him bring money into the office again - it's just like the old days. Do you think my desk makes me look small?"

"I won a bet with Michael Bloomberg. Don't he look cute in his li'l Snoopy suit?"

"The pile has to get pretty big before it's any fun to hump it, apparently."

That? Sparky told FEMA he lost everything in Katrina now FEMA's paying for his new doggie trailer.

Now that you've signed the NDA, I can tell you that we plan to sell millions of little sheets of yellow paper partly coated on one side with half-dried dog saliva. We expect them to be our top seller for the 80s. Your job will be to stack the pieces of paper into neat little pads.

"Fido and I oppose the paperless office. For grossly different reasons."

Meet your new colleague- Rex. You'll be helping him get his piles in order.

This is just his bread & butter. On [ital]really[ital] good days he does our wiretapping.

Look at it this way: you're not being outsourced; your position is just being usurped by my secretary's dog.

Oh, that's just Bob from Accounts Retrievable.

They are baby pictures of Suri Cruise - I have no idea where he finds them.

"Trust me, if it's a dirty deal it's got Cheney's name written all over it."

Stick with me. Soon we'll up to our ears in cash.

"Stick with me, Henderson. Soon we'll be up to our ears in cash."

"That's a hell of an act. What do you call it?"

"If you've no other questions, let's go have a look at The Jism Room."

"As head of payroll, you should have known that 'direct deposit' doesn't generally involve lhasha apsos. Wait, I think I said that wrong. I meant to say, 'former head of payroll.'"

Yes, I've discovered that the secret to collecting child pornography without getting caught is don't use the fucking Internet! Unfortunately, I have to kill you to keep my secret, but since I've already got you tied to that chair, let's get some of that clothing off you first. You're not my usual type, obviously, but let's see if we can make some magic anyway.

They're caption contest entries. We're supposed to pick a winner today, but sorting through them is going to be a bitch. So to speak.

That's the licensing fees he gets for letting us use use the gigantic glop-spewing nozzle he invented. I believe he got the idea while licking his genitals.

"Don't laugh .. He's the director of accounts receivable"

Oh, I'm completely serious. In fact if you turn around you'll see that my associate Mr Jenkins is brining in the last of your severance pay, even as we speak. What's the matter? You look surprised.

"On the Internet, nobody knows you're a venture capitalist."

"Disturbed by that dog? Of course not. The guy in the portrait's facial hair is freaking me out, though."

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