Check it out, Peter.

Our minds are one, and this is our astral body.

Never have I felt so violated.

Note to self, do not throw supervillains at buses full of orphans.

We bought the secret headquarters with the grant you got from the National Endowment for Superheroes.

When was the last time you dusted this secret entrance?

Just look at that wallpaper, hideous.

Try out some superhero costumes for me.

Oh, forget it.

Just wear the shirt.

No, please.

We're the last one.

Please, please, please.

Hello, Turlock Inquisitor.

I'd like to take out a classified ad.

Single worm superhero seeks supervillain for climactic battle between good and evil.

No fatties.

I'm mad, I tell you.

No, Peter, not on the table.

What did that dog just leave on the table?

I don't know, but I think we've found our new series.

Oh, dear, you ugly old ladder.

You ugly, ugly.

Well, Evil Jim is right where he belongs.

Serving a two-month sentence in a minimum security prison?

Don't question our system of justice, my little pink old friend.

We now return you to Baywatch.

Oh, um, someone's drowning.

I better put on my bikini.

Oh, all right.

Baywatch is out.

Shark attack.

I better put on my bikini.

I have a long and floppy head.

I went to bed at night.

Call me Ethel.

Is there a Mr. Bleveridge?

Nah, I just use a Mrs. to keep the men off.

Dig me, I'm a flapper.

The old superhero's home.

Sorry?

The elderly.

No, the senior.

All right, fine.

The chronologically gifted superhero's home.

Can we please move on before they come up with a new euphemism?

Can't say anything fun these days, can you?

A themed letter from President Truman.

Thank you for your kind offer to end World War II, but we have a bomb we want to try out.

Aren't you going to remove your helmet in the presence of a lady?

A lady?

Okay, okay, a dog in a dress.

Just take off your helmet, pinhead.

Hey, man.

Groovy.

Kids today, with their long hair and hippie clothes.

Hey, he looks different.

Well, have you seen the Great Worm Spirit before?

He saved my life in the NARM, man.

It was the Mekong Delta Sea.

Charlie was moving in hard and fast.

Grunts were getting shot to pieces all around me.

It was a nightmare, man, a screaming nightmare.

Then the Great Worm Spirit pulled me into a foxhole.

I'll never forget it, man.

Not till my dying day, man.

Our story opens at the bastion of all that is pure, noble, and good.

Oh, sorry. Actually, it opens at the White House.

Then take a look at this.

No!

You could keep your country!

Say, what's on that paper that scared Cyclo so badly?

Just the national pet.

Wait a second.

I know what will bring in more viewers.

Okay, two things.

One, this isn't going to work.

And two, my bikini is giving me a snuggy.

I guess we shouldn't have gone for the thong thing.

Jim, that's your pants phone. Aren't you going to answer?

In a sec. I'm kind of enjoying it.

Yeah, yeah, okay.

I have eaten my words and found them bitter as the lingering regret from a failed love affair.

Excuse me. That ape was my husband.

Not counting for taste.

What the heck is going on here?

Nothing, nothing, nothing at all.

Um, question, how can your monkey communicate with the apes?

Apes and monkeys aren't the same thing.

Actually, he is a chimpanzee, a member of the ape family.

He has that tail stuck on and he likes people to call him a monkey.

Um, okay, why?

He feels that he's a monkey trapped in the body of an ape.

Psychedelic.

I know, I know, don't get me started.

Let's see, seborrhea, trichinosis.

Ah, turning into apes.

It says the cure is peanuts.

I'm cured, cured.

Not effective on worms, puppies or puppies with worms.

Ew.

With those puppies.

Did you say puppies?

Puppies.

What in the heck with it?

Let's just toss a coin.

Pull it in the air.

Toss a coin.

Me and my big mouth.

Ooh, frozen yogurt.

Hmm.

Today's topic, kids who caught their moms kissing Santa Claus and moms who are proud of it.

Where did you hear all this anyway?

The voices in my head told me.

Hey, hey, hey, when we're on the clock we keep our eyes on our work.

You don't want to know what happens if the big guy catches you slacking.

Whoa.

Let's just say it involves figgy pudding.

Ew.

It was you.

What snatched Santa, wasn't it?

Spill the beans or a hard reindeer's going to fall.

It wasn't me, I swear.

It was some insect with a butt the size of a Macy's Parade balloon.

Rush Limbaugh.

No, Jim.

Queen Slug for a butt.

Oh, right.

Sorry, wrong room.

Go to sleep.

If it's going to upset you this much, you shouldn't watch the news.