Sit back and relax as you read Mr. Blacks' longest adventure ever!

Mr. Blacks…in Prison? The Chilling Story

Intended air date January 21, 1998, brought back from the sewers April 15, 1999!

Mr. Blacks was busily kicking back and enjoying being boss when suddenly a gigantic monster leaped at him!

"Stay away, you vile beast!" he screamed, jumping up and throwing his chair at it. The monster swallowed it whole.

"All right you clattering hunk o' junk! You wanna play hard ball, huh? Take that!" He threw his hat at it. It bounced right off.

"Stupid monster!" he screamed, throwing his shoes at it. "Take that, and that, and that!"

Mr. Blacks was soon reduced to his under garments.

"Alright! You wanna play rough! We'll play rough!" Mr. Blacks began pulling off his Mickey Mouse boxers when, suddenly, the monster reached over and unzipped its stomach. A boy walked out laughing.

"He, he, hey! The Blackster! Howz it hangin', dudemeister?"

"J-jimmy, aka Montgomery Moe! My old sidekick! I haven't seen you in almost thirty years, when you mysteriously stopped hanging around with me! Whatever happened to you? And why haven't you aged in appearance yet seemingly updated your character for a modern audience?"

"Those are two good questions, Mr. Blacks. Very good questions. Hey, look over there! I bet you'll be pleasantly surprised with what you see!"

Mr. Blacks turned around. "Hmmm. I am."

"Anyhoo," said Montogmomery Moe, "I'm here to help you fight crime again! How's that sound, Mr. Blacks?"

"You goddamn slimy beast!" Mr. Blacks pulled out a machine gun and shot him. Montgomery was reduced to a puddle of oozing blood.

"Let that be a lesson to the rest of you monsters out there! Monster slayer thy name is Mr. Blacks!" He sat back down in his chair. A couple of seconds passed.

"What a lazy relaxin' kinda day," Mr. Blacks muttered, cracking his knuckles. "Really makes me glad to live here in any town, USA!" Mr. Blacks reached over to the ice cooler and pulled out a lemonade. "Sweet, sweet lemonade. What would I do without its refreshing tangy bite?"

Montgomery got up and dusted himself off. "Whew. That sure stung. Anyway, Mr. Blacks! My main man! Slap me some skin!"

"I thought I told you to die, you stupid monster! Die! Die!" he screamed, shooting Montgomery again. He was once again a puddle of blood.

"Whoa! Good one, Blacks my man!" he said, getting up. "Still playin' the same old tricks!"

"Die, die, die, die!" Mr. Blacks repetitively shot him, when suddenly some mean looking police guys kicked down the door.

"We're just coming by to check out those beautiful azaleas you have in your window and---" the police chief started, when he saw Montgomery oozing with blood on the floor. "Oh my God! A murder! We're gonna get a raise for this one! You're under arrest! Boy does it feel good to say that after fifteen years of arresting almost exclusively senior citizen imposters who tried to get into movie theaters at discounted prices!"

"Hmmm," said Mr. Blacks. "Alright! Enough has been said. You guys can just dilly dally out here before I call the cops on you."

"Joe, what's he talking about? Tell me what the hell he's talking about!" one of the officers said.

"I dunno. It's probably some legal crap. We should probably hear him out."

"Yes, you see I work for the FBI, and I have for more years then the sun has supplied us with cool, crisp air! So, just get out of here and forget what you saw. Believe me, it's for the best."

"What are you saying, sir? Are you implying you work for the FBI? I can assure you, you're not on any government listing!"

"I'm on this one, wise guy!" Mr. Blacks said, reaching in his drawer and pulling out a list that read 'Government agents: Mr. Blacks.'

"Sir, this is an obvious forgery."

"What are you talking about, fat face?" screeched Mr. Blacks.

"Well, for one thing it's written in pink crayon."

"You damn fools! That's not pink! It's called crimson sunset! Now get out of here before I really get mad!"

"Alright! Let's just forget it! No jury in the world would convict with evidence this minuscule," said the chief, while Mr. Blacks stuffed the body and gun in to his closet. "Now come on! I think I see a dog running around without proper identification!"

They arrested the dog and then came back and arrested Mr. Blacks for not watering his azaleas.

Will Mr. B rot in jail?

Mr. Blacks…in Prison? The Chilling Continuation…

Mr. Blacks' trial was held the next day at the Quaintsville District Courthouse. He was brought into the courtroom wearing a blue suit that was at least two sizes too small for him.

“Mr. Blacks! You’re charged with murder in the first degree! How do you plead?” said a stern looking judge, pointing at Mr. Blacks.

"Not guilty."

"Very well. I see here that you wish to defend yourself in this case. I assume you feel confident you can convince the jury of your innocence?"

"I think you'll find the state’s case is as thin as this playing card," said Mr. Blacks with a grin.

"Uh, what you’re holding appears to be an unabridged copy of the Oxford English Dictionary, sir."

“I'm holding you in contempt!" said Mr. Blacks disgustedly.

"Mr. Blacks! Please! Cooperate for just one moment!" the judge ordered. "If you can't prove you’re in the right mental state to defend yourself, I'm going to have to bring in the public defender! And I'd like to remind you that this state has ruled aging circus animals fit for that job!"

"I think I can handle myself."

"Very well. I'm going to forgo all the legal formalities and bring out the state's attorney to begin arguing with you heatedly."

"Bring 'im on!" Mr. Blacks cried with enthusiasm.

The attorney hurried into the room. "Mr. Blacks, could you tell me what you were doing on June the 3rd?" the attorney asked slyly.

"Shut up!"

"Well…does murdering your long lost sidekick Montgomery ring a bell?"

"Shut up!"

“Isn’t it also true, that upon the murder of Montgomery, you heartlessly let several beautiful flowers go un-watered?”

"Shut up!" screeched Mr. Blacks again, his face reddening.

"Mr. Blacks, would you please answer the questions?" asked the attorney.

"No! I'm sick of this! Your entire case is built on hearsay and conjecture!”

"Actually, sir, I feel my evidence is more than adequate to prove your guilt in this instance and others! However, we’ll stick to the brutal murder of your former sidekick for today," the attorney said, straightening his tie. “Now, I have here a copy of your autobiography which includes a chapter entitled ‘The Day I Murdered Montgomery’ that I’d like to submit as exhibit ‘a.’”

"Gimme that!" cried Mr. Blacks. "I object to this, your honor!"

The judge looked puzzled. "On what grounds?"

"He's an idiot!" he exclaimed excitedly. "I think clashing shirt and tie proves that!"

The judge looked at the attorney. "Hmmm. Sustained. Go ahead, Mr. Blacks."

"Your honor, I would like to call a surprise witness."

The judge nodded.

"I call Jonathon Salmon to the stand."

"Objection, your honor," the attorney said, exasperated. "The witness is a wooden dummy! In fact, it appears to be Charlie McCarthy, which I believe was stolen from the Smithsonian last week!"

"That’s right!" Mr. Blacks said smiling, "I do a quite entertaining act too."

"I'm gonna have to allow this," said the judge, leaning back and placing his feet on the podium.

Mr. Blacks did his act to the applause of the judge and jury. He took a bow and returned to his seat.

The state's attorney arose. "Alright, Mr. Blacks. Let's cut to the chase. You're guilty and you know it."

"Define guilty," Mr. Blacks said in a self-satisfied tone.

"Chargeable with, or responsible for, something censurable."

"I know you are but…what am I?" said Mr. Blacks, sticking out his tongue.

"Guilty!" cried the attorney.

"Innocent!"

“Guilty!"

"Innocent!"

“Guilty!"

Mr. Blacks paused a moment, thinking up a plan. "If all those Saturday mornings I spent studying literature have paid off, I think I know just what to do in this situation. If I say 'guilty' he'll be tricked into saying I'm innocent, winning me the case! It's a no fail plan! Advantage, Mr. Blacks."

Mr. Blacks stared into space for about thirty seconds, and then opened his mouth again. "Guilty!" he said triumphantly.

"Pardon?  Did you just admit your guilt?"

"Yep," said Mr. Blacks, a smug smile on his face.

"Then I guess the prosecution rests."

"Mr. Blacks," said the judge. "I'm only gonna go through this once. Are you sure you want to admit to this horrendous crime?"

"God damn it! I'm guilty, I said! Guilty!"

"I'm going to be frank with you. Since the attorney already left for lunch without issuing a closing statement, I'd probably have to let you go if you just said…"

"Guilty! Guilty! Guilty! You wanna see the body?"

"Okay, sir," said the judge, "so be it. If you'd just sign these papers admitting your guilt, it will speed everything up.”

"Sure thing, stupid!" Mr. Blacks said, signing the paper. "Hee! Hee! They're falling right into the trap."

"Okay, Mr. Blacks, in light of your confession, I guess I have no choice but to sentence you to death!"

"Okay, you dope!" Mr. Blacks said chuckling.

Continued soon…

Continued soon…

Mr. Blacks…in Prison? The Chilling Conclusion

Mr. Blacks was taken to a prison and locked in the high security section. He sat, smiling, on the bench, next to a large, tough-looking man.

"Hey, cue ball," said his cellmate, "what are you grinning about?"

"It's just that those idiots are so stupid," Mr. Blacks started smugly. "I committed a major felony and I got away with it! I beat the system!"

"In what sense did you beat the system?" his cellmate replied. "You're in prison and you're set to be executed in a week!"

Mr. Blacks looked around. "What? You mean this is a prison cell? I've been tricked! I though I was joining a monastery!"

"Not quite," said the cell-mate.

"Then who does everyone here call me 'friar'?"

"Probably because you're wearing that ridiculous brown robe and walk around with birds perched on your shoulder," his cell-made said.

 "Hey! St. Francis!" said a guard, walking over to the cell, "those birds aren't allowed in here! And where's your uniform? That robe isn't permitted!"

"Alright, wise guy! So I'll change!" Mr. Blacks snapped, reaching into a suitcase and pulling out a black and white striped prison outfit.

"That's not acceptable either! Prisons haven't used clothes like that for well over 60 years!"

"Well they ought to!" Mr. Blacks screamed. "This black and white striped ensemble is all the rage in Paris!"

"Is that so? Well, too bad! You'll wear this and like!" the guard said, throwing him the actual prison uniform.

 "This won't do at all," said Mr. Black, tossing the clothes aside. "I can't even begin to tell you how fired you are!"

"F-fired?" stammered the guard. "Damn proposition twenty-four! I don't care what they say! Inmates firing guards doesn't make sense!"

Mr. Blacks cackled villainously.

"You know, this joint is beginning to cramp my style!" Mr. Blacks said to his cell-mate. "Just between you and me, I'm bustin' outta here first chance I get! I have to get back to the spy industry! Who knows what sort of horrible, chaotic mess this town has become in my absence!"

"Actually," said his cell-mate, "I saw an article in today's paper that said the town's crime rate has decreased almost fifty percent since you've been locked up."

"Pfft! You can manipulate statistics all you want! The fact is, this town needs me and I'm not going to let it down! Now listen to my escape plan! I've drawn several diagrams to outline each step..."

Mr. Blacks pulled out some diagrams and charts, and presented his plan, complete with choreographed footage of the proposed escape. "…finally, re-entering society a free man."

His cell-mate looked at him blankly.

"Now, the first step in my carefully laid out plot is to whittle this bar of soap into a key," Mr. Blacks said, taking a bar of soap from the sink, shaping it into key-shaped form and sticking it into the lock. It crumbled to pieces.

"Oh, well. That didn't work. I guess I'll just have to revert to plan B! To start, I'll need to order a cake…"

"Are you kidding? Having a file baked into a cake is the oldest trick in the book! You'll never get away with it!"

"Who said anything about baking a file into it? I just want some eats!" Mr. Blacks said, sticking his head out of the bars. "Hey," he screamed down the hallway, "can I get some cake here? And don't get stingy with that mustard!"

Mr. Blacks was brought cake, which he proceeded to devour. When he finished it, he arose excitedly.

"Now! On to Plan B! Fortunately, I'm never without my welding torch!" he exclaimed. "…except today! Hmm. Oh well, this crow bar will do…for now."

Mr. Blacks bent back the bars with the crow bar he had handy and ran down the hallway towards the exit.

"Hey! That man is escaping!" said a guard.

"Shhh!" said the other. "It's our lunch break! Let him go."

"Oh! Sorry, Mr. Boss-of-me! I didn't realize you were the tyrant of this entire jail!"

"Oh, be quiet, Frank! You always get this way when you're tired!"

Mr. Blacks was already safely out the door.

"I'm a free man" he cried, kissing the ground. "I'm out of jail and the world's my oyster!" he said, walking into a conveniently located plastic surgeons office.

"You gotta help me, doc! The Feds are on my trail! I need a new face! "he screamed at the doctor, desperately.

"Get in line, buddy!" the doctor said, pointing to a long line of prisoners.

"Yeah," said a wolf in prison clothes, "you've gotta wait your turn like everybody else!"

"No time for lines!" Mr. Blacks cried, exasperated. "I'll have to perform the operation myself! I've got some wax in my pocket from the candle-in-your-pants contest they had at work that I can use to extend my nose, and I can draw on a mustache with this pen," said Mr. Blacks, proceeding to cram the wax on his nose and scribble some lines above his lip.

"Hee, hee! My own wife wouldn't recognize me! And I mean that too, since I'm not married," he chuckled, walking back outside.

"Hold it right there, Blacks" said some men, holding guns to his face.

Mr. Blacks jumped in fear. "I didn't do it! I mean, I'm not Mr. Blacks! Look at my nose! My nose! The…the candle! That is, uh, uh, you're fired! All of you! How do you like dem apples? Huh?"

"Mr. Blacks, we just tracked you down to congratulate you for foiling the evil twin of your former sidekick, Montgomery Moe. By doing so, you triumphed over the forces of evil and rottenness, spreading the forces of goodness and niceness across the western world."

"Well," said Mr. Blacks blushing, "I'm just doing my part for the country. After all, we've all got to do our share to get ride of those damn Injuns, right?

The men looked at Mr. Blacks blankly, their mouths wide open.

"We'll show those damn Red Skins who was here first, huh?"

"Mr. Black!" said one of the men, in shock, "we're not trying to get rid of the Native Americans! You appear to be under the impression that this is the mid 1800's! We're currently doing our best to make up for how we've severely mistreated their people in the past!"

"Are you trying to tell me the Indian Removal act was repealed?" Mr. Blacks sputtered.

"Over two hundred years ago, sir."

"What?" Mr. Blacks sputtered. "Next you're going to tell me I have to get rid of those slaves on my sugar plantation!"

"Dear lord! Slaves? Mr. Blacks, slavery was outlawed in the late 1860's! It's the most horribly atrocious violation of human rights imaginable! Your actions are completely contrary to every ideal this country holds dear! You're the most despicable human being I have ever seen!"

The men's stern expressions broke, and they began to laugh.

"Oh, who are we kidding?" one man said, slapping Mr. Blacks on the back playfully. "You gotta love this guy and his humorist racist views! He’s this generation’s Archie Bunker! He’s the kind of guy we want in our government and everyone knows it! Mr. Blacks, you're officially promoted! You'll have a bigger office and twice the pay! What do you say to that?"

"I say you're fired, damn it!"

The men chuckled as our story ends.

The End