Popeye Page #2

two dollars an ounce.

Out of my kitchen, Mr. Wimpy.

I knew it, I knew it, see...

You wait for the supper gong.

I could've made

a fortune on Billings

if Bluto would've let me go

directly to the Commodore.

He's so jealous of me,

that Bluto.

Well, who wouldn't be?

Me, I'm not jealous of Castor.

He's my son.

Man jealous of his own son.

You owe me an apology.

I didn't mean you.

Never lets me go

to the Commodore.

Commodore is a paragon

of sagacity.

If ever I could

put in a good word...

"Shut up" is the word.

"Pass" is another word

that Wimpy...

You don't pass.

He should be killed to death.

It says here the Commodore's

taxing salt again.

Don't look as good as I smell,

but too late now.

Got to go.

Oh, Mr. Eye,

have you met... uh, Pop?

Mr. Wimpy, my son Castor,

Mr. Geezil, my husband Cole.

We're all one big

happy family here.

- Hmph!

- Although not really.

I mean, well, Mr. Geezil

and Mr. Wimpy are, um...

Me, I'm family.

Well, you're my husband.

You owe me an apology.

Well, I can't find anything.

What are you

looking for, Olive?

- A glass.

- Oh, uh, here's a glass.

That's a short, fat, ugly glass.

I want a tall, pretty,

slender glass.

They're all broken.

I could've made a fortune

- in fish futures...

- Fish?

But I'd have to dip

into capital.

Fish futures smell.

What kind of glass

do you want, Olive?

A wine glass

or a brandy glass,

or a water glass?

Oh, not a thing...

I don't want a thing.

Real appetizing.

I want a fork.

Right beside your plate.

If it was a knife,

it would cut you.

- And a knife.

- Will you sit down?

Why don't I have a knife?

And a nice dress?

You owe me an apology.

Passing fish, please.

Fish, excellent idea, Miss Oyl.

I would suggest before

matrimony, fish.

Fish before matrimony.

Ooh, that does look good, there.

Wish I had a plate though.

...because four times

engaged is three times much.

Oh, he can't talk me out

of anything; I'm not a child.

I'll say you're not a child.

- Who says I'm not a child?

- You said you're not a child

and I agreed with you,

that's who.

Who asked you

to agree with me?

Well, no one can stop me

from agreeing with you

- if I want to.

- I can.

Quarreling at my table.

You both owe me an apology.

Sorry, Pop.

What?

Please pass the shrimp,

chicken and meatballs.

Well, I don't know.

Captain Bluto has

the patience of Job.

Or is it job?

Certainly got

a very good job, Job.

And he needs

a lot of patience.

Why, he runs this town

for the Commodore

while he's away.

And the Commodore's

always away.

As a matter of fact,

I've never seen him.

- Have you, Cole?

- What?

I'd never let a girl

break my engagement.

I'd break her nose before

she broke my engagement.

And you better not try on me

what you pulled on Bluto,

because I'm no pushover.

You owe your sister

an apology.

Will you stop fidgeting?

Finishing touch here.

Oh, this knife won't cut.

Here, take mine.

Not since I was child

have we had a sharp knife

in this house.

You owe me an apology.

You don't like our knives.

Bluto's rich, he can buy you

plenty of knives.

Ooh, I hate this table,

it's ugly.

I'm the only one

with nerve enough

to tell the truth about it.

Well, then, why don't you

let Bluto the pushover

buy you a new table?

- Am I right, Pop?

- Right.

I'm right, right?

- You're right.

- Right.

Nothing left?

Oh... Bluto, Bluto, Bluto.

Everyone takes advantage

of my poor Bluto.

Get a new... glass,

a new knife.

Now they want a table.

Well, hmph!

That's why I always

have to break off

our engagement...

to stop you all

from taking advantage

of the sweetest,

most humble man

on the face of this Earth!

Hmph.

Mmm.

You make me sick.

Never good to be too full,

I guess.

It's 9:
00!

Curfew!

Lights... out!

You can have a kiss now.

Oh!

Poppa.

Pretty soon you and me

are going to be together again,

huh?

Yeah.

Besides, next Wednesday's

our annual-versity.

Yeah? Yeah.

Stay alive.

That's all I'm axskin you.

Good night, Poppa.

Aw...

There.

Sweep, sweep, sweep, sweep.

Sweep, sweep...

Hey-up!

Ah... whoop!

Eee-oh!

Everything

is food, food, food

Everything is food to go

Everything is food

for thought

Everything you knead

is dough

It is food

Everything is food

Everything is meat, meat, meat

Careful what you put

on your feet

Once it lived on an ani-mule

Now it walks along with you

It could be food

Everything is food

I would gladly pay you Tuesday

for a hamburger today

He would gladly pay you

Tuesday for a hamburger today

Everything is

chow, chow, chow

Everything is food to go now

Everything is

fast-food chains

From your lemon

to your sugarcane

It is food

Everything is food

Did you order a hamburger?

Yeah, I ordered a hamburger.

That's what I got,

a hamburger.

No, I beg to disagree.

Rough House,

a genuine hamburger

for the gentleman.

- I'm buying.

- Hey, thanks.

Who's paying?

I'm buying, he's paying.

A nickel hamburger tax?

I'd refuse to pay

if I were you.

A shocking abuse of power.

Rough House!

Food, food, food

Everything is food

One hamburger-chiseler's tax.

I would gladly

pay you Tuesday

- What kind mooch is this?

- For a hamburger today

He would gladly pay you

Tuesday for a hamburger today

Everything is upside-down

Everything is sunny-side up

Did you pay for this

In American?

They can't trick us

with no hot dog

Everything is food,

food, food

Everything is food.

Hey, hey, hey, Laverne!

Give us a smooch!

I really need someone

to kind of talk to,

'cause I thought everybody

in this town might be deef.

Huh, what's that?

Huh? Oh.

You know, jusk why

I'm here is...

I'm looking for me pap.

Yeah, oh...

I've searched

the seven seas for him,

and I haven't found him yet.

I was only two years old,

me own pap left me.

I was just a mere infink.

Me own pap...

Pipe down, will ya?

Me own pap ditches me.

I'm a very tolerant man,

except when it comes

to holding a grudge.

I never thought

I'd forgive me paps,

but about seven years ago,

I ships out on this boat,

The Gloomy Gus.

That's a boat. Yeah.

Just off the coast of Guam.

It breaks up on this typhoon,

and I'm stuck on

this raft for 45 days

without food or waters.

But after all

this time on this raft,

this visiktation comes to me.

Looks just like me mother,

rest her soul.

And it says,

"Your pap is still alive."

Excuse me.

So, when I was finally rescued,

I figured out that I got

to forgive me paps, you know?

Uh, you see,

I'm only afeared

that he might be dead,

and never realize what a

fine figure of an orphink

I turned out to be.

You sure got a nice-looking

face there,

One-Eye.

One-Eye?

I've seen better arms

on a baboon.

You're a slimy...

Yeah, you want to know

why you're so "lonescome,"

go take a look at that mirror.

You know, if there's

one thing I ain't got,

it's a sense ka humor.

Where did you get that,

uh, pronunskiation?

Yeah? Got an olive

caught in your throat?

Well, yeah, well,

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