June 11, 2007

The New Yorker Cartoon Anti-Caption Place-Holder Contest

There's no New Yorker contest this week, so if you're as bored as I am with last week's cartoon, see what you can do with this 1933 James Thurber classic. Give it your best and/or worst. Next week I'll reveal the actual caption — it's pretty anti-, actually — and maybe choose a new one.


Update. Actual Thurber caption: I brought a couple of midgets—do you mind?

Posted by Daniel Radosh


Hello, my name is Larry. It's a pleasure to meet you.

"Mr Goldwyn, here are a couple of extremely short guys who look very much like you."

I brought a couple of your illegimate kids—do you mind?

"Let me guess, Thurber drew us after he went blind."

"Kali Ma Shakti de... Kali Ma Shakti de... Kali Ma Shakti de..."

"When exactly did you say you started dating my ex-wife?"

"Thanks for being like a father to my sons. Now, is it reversible?"

"Thanks a lot, Michaels, all they talk about now are luge lessons and Summers in Rangoon."

"Looks like your wife left the twins at home."

"You've heard of the long arm of the law? Well, this is the long arm of my right arm!"

"I'm going to rip out your still-beating heart and serve it as an appetizer."

I have no testicles, so these are my little bouncers.

"You own a majority of the stock in United Petroleum. I've stolen your children and taught them to mock you by dressing like you. Let's do business."

"No, no, just stay put...my arm will keep stretching until it reaches you."

"My name is Bert Levine. I'll be eating faster and talking louder than you this evening. Pleased to meet you."

"No, no, no. You're doing it all wrong. It's like this. Dumm dee dooo. And... A... Zing. Like this. And here. Here is the part you're missing. The Electric Slide is 22 steps, not 18."

"And these are Mini-Me and Mini-Mimi."

"What, you thought the Nicholas Brothers were black?

I brought a couple of midgets - do you mind?

"My name's Wonka. And these are my Oompa Loompas."

The invitation said guest plus one - so I brought two halves, what's your problem?

Yes, the extremely short, funny looking guys behind me are mypalmike and his twin brother - and they've just spoiled the party for everyone!

I don't know why they did it - they're just brats! I tried to raise them right but I failed! What can you do?

Jenkins, I successfully cloned a duplicate who can do everything that you do. The other one is for your wife.

Yes, they serve bald men here! In fact, I ordered 2 for myself.

Good Day, Adams. Since we are stuck in this blasted Thurber illustration, I took the liberty of cloning 2 of you. I have named them 'Walter' and 'Mitty-Me'.

That's right... they may have your devilish looks, but they have MY evil eyebrows!

Damn, It looks like every man here went tuxedo shopping at the same Men's Warehouse sale rack!

We are the Jersey Boys... 3 Gangsters... here to 'off' you... 'whack' you... perhaps as a threesome we'll even 'whack-off' you!

"See Mini-Me's? I told you the Austin Powers' here are obscene.

"I'm telling you. I was a bitch finding TWO size-zero cumberbunds."

"Let me tell you about all the advantages of having a 5-foot right arm. And while I do, you might want to ignore my extremely short companions."

I want the ten grand back that I paid for your midget cousin sex-toys. They never smile and it's a real pain in the ass finding formal wear that fits them properly.

"Bruce Wayne - or should I say batman? - You are the reason my hand and arm are mangled like this. I, The Strider, and my sidekicks, Two Steps, shall have revenge now!"

"Clease is the name. I;m from the Ministry of Silly Walks."

"So the cat says
'I will pick up the hook
You will see something new
Two things. And I call them
Thing One and Thing Two.'
Now forty years later, here they are. My sister Sally there can verify that what I'm telling you is true."

"Perhaps these two bald midgets in tuxedos will refresh your memory!"

"I shrunk them and I'll shrink you too! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha wait, should that have been 'shrank'?"

Let's talk -- you too can have a 12-inch pianist.

Fusilli, you crazy motherfucking dickslap, how the fuck are you? And may I present my two young sons? I really shouldn't curse around them as much as I do, but sometimes it's hard.

"Smell my hand. SMELL IT."

"Do ignore the diminuitive copies of yourself that appear to be trailing me. They aren't real. Our cartoonist suffers from Charles Bonnet syndrome, an otherwise harmless disorder which causes him to conjure up convincing, undersized hallucinations."

Welcome to my gallery opening. The Renoirs here are obscene.

"Borenstein, you crazy bastard! Where'd ya get those thalidomide menorahs?"

"Put it there, Gurspan! Say, you wouldn't have 4 quarters and a postage stamp for a dollar, would you?"

"They're a little gift I brought- when I saw them I immediately thought of you."

"Great party. Do you mind if I take a couple of midgets for the road?"

"I'm a big fan of your work on Night Court, as you can see from how I had my children surgically modified to look like you. I also molded my daughter into John Larroquette, but she killed herself."

"Hi, I'm the inspiration for the song 'Blister in the Sun.' You must be some ugly guy."

"A fan of Arli$$, really? Wow, I hardly get that anymore. Or, for that matter, while the show was running. Anyway, so yeah, now I'm a waiter."

"Hey, buddy, look - my arm is so long it's bigger than either of my bald-headed sons."

"Hello, and welcome to Hell. You're lucky you got into the posh section, where our punishment is substandard caviar, but we still get to watch the proceedings from our giant picture window."

"Pull my hideously oversized finger."

"Hi. As you've probably surmised, my sons have head lice. Or had, I should say. Hopefully we've finally licked 'em this time."

"Oddly, my right arm is normal; it's the rest of my body which is freakishly small."

Sanders, great to see you. Don't you hate these formal affairs? I often call my tux a 'Monkey suit' but it's natural after all, what with me and my freakishly long arms. Are these your kids behind me? I see the resemblance.

So my doctor says, "Stretch... try to touch your toes without bending your knees."

I had to quit seeing the quack... I mean, in our world who can't touch the tip of their toes without bending??!

"My sons are offering the tops of their heads as stand-ins for your wife's missing tits."

Hi, I'm James Thurber and this is my carnival. Now, with your permission, I'd like to give your wife a Wonderful O.

"Captain Picard, I'd like you to meet my boys. And by 'boys' I mean my huge hairy testicles. By the way, who invited those midgets?"

Luke, I am your father... and by the way, these are your 2 brothers. What did you think??! I'd take over the galaxy and not get any action?

You can't outrun the long arm of the brother-in-law.

Sam cringed inside as Larry approached him. He had been hoping Larry would not show up for this, the tenth reunion of the 1997 Syracuse Midget Tossing Club. But of course he would. Larry "De Tossa" DeCosta, although never holding an official title, was the de facto king of the club. His midget tosses were the stuff of legends, echoes of which still reverberate like so much drum-n-bass through the beer-soaked halls of Fraternity Row. Sam's heart drooped wearily as he considered how his biggest rival, his secret rival, had found professional success in a sport that had been a mere novelty just a decade before. It was Sam, not Larry, who had done all the hard work to bring the burgeoning sport to Syracuse, fought with the Dean, the Registrar, the Bursar's office, the police. Larry had ridden the coattails of, indeed stood on the shoulders of, giant Sam. Only one thing calmed Sam's simmering anger: the knowledge that the statue in the foyer was modeled after himself, not this beast whose grotesque arm stretched out before him.

The Maitre Double D's will seat you.

I hear it's your first date and we just wanted to assist you with the small talk.

I just wanted to introduce you to our shrimp chefs.

Sorry if you have to wait long for your meal. We're a little short on staff.

"T.A. Winchler, Senior, here."

"T.A. Winchler of Acme Cloning; you pick one, we keep the other as a backup. They'll get bigger."

"They can only stay a minute. You see David Chase is coming back from France tonight and they're employed to prevent his 'knee-capping.' "

"They're the grandsons of Maria Tallchief and, yes, I DO realize the sublime irony."

"The hors d'oeuvres here are obscene."

"I know what you're thinking. Does that grotesque cartoon hand have five fingers or only four? Well, to tell you the truth, since Ive been standing here for 74 years, I've kinda lost track myself. But being as this is the only caption contest you'll get this week you've got to ask yourself one question: Do I feel lucky? Well, do ya punk?"

"Yeah, I know..."But doesn't his tuxedo fit nicely"...save it, babe!"

"Don't mind them...they're keeping an eye on my right-arm only, 500 pound barbell that I bring everywhere!"

I'm going to ask you one more time: is tonight the first time you met my wife?

"Hello. I've brought low expectations and little patience with me this evening."

"Let me extend my hand, another 5 feet or so, and welcome you both to the Waldwarf Historia."

"Buck, your time has come."

The key to Midget Toss is the follow through. Come on, let's play another round.

"No winner to Contest #102? Who the hell do you think you are, Radosh, David Chase?!"

"If this thread breaks 100 comments before the new New Yorker Caption Contest is announced, The Anti-Caption Contest will have, in effect, established itself as a separate, self-sustaining (well...) entity. Isn't that fascinating? Hey, where you going..."

"My giant hand looks like a perfect fit with your wife's grotesquely enlarged neck."

A thousand dollars says that the Pollack is a fake.

Well, its like this Jim, first you shake the hand, then the hand gives you what youve always dreamed of - two tiny, well-dressed, albeit incensed, versions of yourself.

"Good evening! I am the Golux, the only Golux in the world, and not a mere Device."

"You don't know me, Mr. Savalas, but you might say I know you. I bought a sample of your DNA on eBay eight years ago and we've been lovers ever since."

Are we wearing cutlasses or are our trousers striped? I would like to know, because these two midgets and I are approaching you in a menacing fashion, sir.

I'd sure like to be in the catbird seat. And by "cat", I mean "pussy". And by "bird" I mean your wife. And by "seat" I mean your wife's ass. And of course, the midgets get to watch.

Jenkins, good to see you! Oh, crap, you brought Sally, your wife! I only brought 2 midgets for us to sit on, as there is never a chair at these gatherings. Would Sally mind sitting on my lap?.... Well, perhaps she'd actually be more comfortable sitting on your lap?!

"Nice to meet you. I'm the letter 'K' and these are the single quotes."

"Daniel Edwards, me and my boys just saw your sculpture of John Travolta urinating on a poodle in the next room, and we're not one bit happy about it."

"Mr. Mathers, nice to meet you. I'm Kid Rock, and these are my boys Joe A and Joe B. As I'm sure you know, their brother can't be with us tonight."

"Yes, I'll give you one. It's like"Sophie's Choice," but not so icky and holocaust-y."

"They're perfect little gentlemen which is more than I can say for you, sir, since you clearly fucked my wife."

"Say, did you watch the '33 World Series? Seventy-four years from now, my kids will still be cheering for the New York Giants."

"Sure they're short. Times are tough!"

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