Slylock Fox and the Nonbinding Invisible Ink Contract

There are so many things to talk about in today's Slylock Fox. Where to begin?

How about with Shady Shrew's blank contract. Who the hell is going to sign a blank piece of paper foisted upon them by a shrew named Shady, especially with a dripping syphilis pen?

And who exactly among the forest denizens is authorized to sign away trash hauling rights for the entire forest? Seems like Shady would need a government contract for that.

And what are these creatures doing to produce tons of paper and scrap metal?

And isn't even twenty dollars a ton ridiculously cheap? Will it really be worth Shady Shrew's time and energy to haul all that trash away?

Probably not, which leads back to the blank contract. Once King Beaver there signs the paper Shady will no doubt create a contract that obliges all forest dwellers to pay him an annual tax to never bring that infected pen within a mile of them. They'll gladly pay it, too.

As for this week's conundrum: Shady is attempting to take advantage of the dumb forest creatures by charging them different amounts for the same weight. It's the old "ton of feathers vs ton of bricks" story.

Am I right?
I am! Sort of! There's a wrinkle in the answer. Looks like Shady is not only making money on hauling away the scrap metal but plans to sell it at a profit.

I'm calling this round a draw, Bob Weber Jr!

Slylock Fox: Malpractice Edition

Which would be more frightening: seeing Slylock Fox and his trusty rat sidekick stride confidently into your exam room while you were clothed in nothing more than a thin, open-backed gown, or...jeez, I can't think of anything more frightening than that. The horrified look on Kathy Kangaroo's face is all the confirmation you need. Most likely she's thinking, "Will Slylock Fox's claws scape my insides during the digital rectal exam? And why is he wearing a cape?"

This bookend theft certainly is curious. Not so much that Klepto Kathy pilfered the bookend--who hasn't coveted a bookend?--but that there are bookends in an exam room at all. Have you ever seen a line of thick medical reference books in an exam room held upright by sturdy bookends? Neither have I. In fact, I'd find it disturbing if in the middle of an exam my doctor started leafing through the DSM. It's a confidence thing.

And the anthropologist in me is puzzled over the taxonomy of the skeleton featured on that wall calendar. It appears vaguely apelike, but it also appears to be missing its spine. Perhaps Kathy Kangaroo sees Dr. Moreau because he's the only physician in her HMO who caters to anthropomorphic animals. The generic "Diploma" on the wall behind her attests to the good doctor's dubious credentials.

But I think I have this one figured out. Slylock can discover if Kathy Kangaroo lifted the bookend by weighing her. If Kathy Kangaroo weighs more than she did during her exam then there's a bookend in her pouch. And from what I know about kangaroo pouches, the bookend is bound to be mucousy.

Am I right?

I am! I win this round, Bob Weber Jr!

Slylock Fox Steals From Kurt Vonnegut

Green-skinned Count Weirdly has no doubt taken inspiration for his oxygen-generating pills from Kurt Vonnegut's novel The Sirens of Titan. Weirdly no doubt received inspiration for his accommodations from Sylvia Plath's The Bell Jar.

Slylock Fox, hands in pockets, eyes half-lidded, cheek fur drooping, is completely unimpressed with Count Weirdly's stunt. He could crap out a more difficult test of his superior intellect.

The same can't be said for the bug-eyed journalist with the microphone in her purse and the diminutive cameraman who makes everyone look like they're 50-feet tall with his unavoidable low-angle shots. They are nothing but credulous, as they are on deadline for the 11 o'clock news. Vetting Weirdly's claims will have to wait for the inevitable senate hearings investigating how an eccentric noble smothered in a gigantic jar as the news lady captured his dying gasps on her purse microphone.

Oh, and there's a walking scrotum. Seems like inventing useless red pills is the least of Weirdly's crimes.

As for this week's mystery: without air in that bell jar, how can Weirdly drink through a straw? Bad move on the Count's part. He should have had something to drink before he supposedly hermetically sealed himself up. Really, how thirsty can a Count get in 30 minutes? Maybe he has a condition and I shouldn't judge him too harshly.

Am I right?
I am! I win this round, Bob Weber Jr!

Slylock Fox, Esq.

I find it hard to believe that the theft of ten cans of oil would result in a jury trial. With our overburdened court system and overcrowded jails, it seems like an incredible waste of judicial resources to try someone for petty theft, especially of cans of oil, which I'm pretty sure no one even sells anymore.

Judge Owl, realizing the terrific waste of taxpayer money unfolding before him, has his gavel raised, ready to interrupt whatever nonsense Slylock is spewing to the jury because SLYLOCK IS NOT A LAWYER! Isn't practicing law without a license a crime? Not that Slylock would know it, because HE'S NOT A LAWYER! He must have the makings of a great lawyer though because the jurors are standing and leaning over the jury box, mezmerized by his deft legal arguments. "Tell us more about this petty theft," they are saying.

And how did Shady Shrew's ridiculous story ever pass muster with the prosecuting attorney? Anyone would be able to tell that in order for Shady to have his fan belt adjusted the car's hood would have to be raised, obscuring his vision. Which means that for some imponderable reason, Shady is committing perjury to frame Andy Ape for stealing of 10 cans of oil, which, as I may have mentioned, probably don't even exist.

Am I right?
I am! I win this round, Bob Weber Jr.

Kopy Kat sure is an odd forger. Painting a one-eyed, one-eared Mickey Mouse? A proto-human skull watching from a high shelf? maybe he's planing on creating a hoax along the lines of the Cardiff Giant or Piltdown Man.

And it's always interesting to see an art forger who works in his living room, so anyone who walks through the door can see what he's up to.

But this mystery is easy. If Kopy Cat has just put the finishing touches on his latest forgery then it will be wet.

Am I right?

I am! I win this round, Bob Weber Jr!

Foxes Don't Wear Bowling Shoes

It's not unusual for Slylock Fox to offer unsolicited advice. After all, most of the "crimes" Slylock investigates are simple misunderstandings or inane puzzles he happens upon and into which he sticks his pointy snout. But if a fox knows more about marsupial biology than an actual marsupial, the natural world is in a heap of trouble.

And as con mammals go, Shady Shrew has to be one of the worst. Everything about him reeks of untrustworthiness. If I were him, I'd do the following: change my name, or at least stop advertising it with a laminated button prominently featured on my shirt; shave; ditch the do-rag; and buy a better bag for my bowling ball.

But back to today's mystery. Newly born kangaroos are tiny, hairless, and embryonic looking and can barely make the treacherous journey from birth canal to pouch on their own. They are in no shape to jump around.

Am I right?

I am! I won this round, Bob Weber Jr!

Slylock Fox and the School Fund Raiser

From his vantage point outside the gym, Peeping Tom Slylock Fox is in no position to hear the interaction between Cassandra Cat and the One-Armed Dog. For all he knows Cassandra Cat is attempting to sell her nephew's school fundraiser's off-brand Krackle bars to her captive audience, as everyone does at work. Detectively speaking, Slylock Fox is jumping to one hell of a conclusion on this one.

But to the question posed: Cassandra Cat is not a certified trainer because if she were she'd know that fiber will help her exhausted client move his bowels but not build his muscles. But as as scams go, selling fiber bars instead of protein bars is hardly in Bernie Madoff's league, now is it? Come to think of it, she could just as easily sell regular protein bars to old sweaty there; they wouldn't help him pack on the muscle any more than his workouts will. Promising that old dog a healthy body through excercise is the real scam.

Am I right?


I am! I won this round, Bob Weber Jr!