Fucking Helicopther

Sometimes a woman can drive a man plumb daffy. Earlier this year, Greg Burson barricaded himself inside of his house for seven hours after a woman inside called 911 claiming that two women were being held against their will in his Los Angeles home. Armed Special Forces and a Tactical squad surrounded the house, weapons drawn. Greg held police to a stand off for seven hours before finally negotiating a peaceful resolution. Once inside the LAPD found a collection of semi and automatic weapons. You may be asking yourself “So fucking what, John. This kind of thing happens all the time. We live in a wacky world, you know.” And you’d be right. But once I inform you that the man who held the LAPD at bay, has provided the voices for Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck and Yogi Bear for the past fifteen years (following the death of Mel Blanc in 1989) You might look at this story a bit differently.

Don’t fret, it gets funnier. Police on the scene were quoted as saying “He was so drunk (that) we couldn’t tell if he was trying to do one of his voices or (if he) was just slurring his words.” Utter hilarity. I couldn’t read the article without imagining Senor Duck demanding, feverishly, for a “fucking helicopther”. What could possibly have happened to make one of the women (who turned out to be Burson’s roommates) call the police? I imagine it started out with a nice dinner at home…

Bugs: Look bitch, are you going to blow me or what?

Woman #1: Stop it Greg, this isn’t funny.

Bugs: …Is the Double-B gonna have to choke a bitch?

Woman #2: Look dude, it’s getting late and we’d like to go dancing. Are you in or what?

Yogi: Why go anywhere ladies, when we can have our own pic-a-nic right here? I can call up Boo-Boo. He’s got a friend that can get us some of that two-hitta-quitta.

Woman #1: Greg, you’re drunk. Maybe you should just stay here. Get some sleep, drink some water. Shake it off, man.

Daffy: Leth ALL stay here. We’ve got cocaine, gun-th by the ton, whith-key, jack, vodka, orange jewth, a “butt-for”….

Both Women Together: What’s a butt-for…?

Bugs: For POOPING, you stupid skanks!
(Laughs maniacally)

Woman #1: Ok man, we’re leaving. You’ve lost it!

Yogi: How much you wanna bet that yoos two girly types ain’t goin….nowhere?

(Silence)

Woman #1: I’m going to get my purse….

Woman #2: Get mine while you’re up there.

Daffy: Hey, who wants to see if I can snort all eleven of these rails and still be able to do the Macarena?

Woman #2: Greg, seriously, I think you need help. This is the third night this week you’ve gotten shitfaced and it’s Wednesday. It’s fucking Wednesday. We’re just worried that you….

Daffy: Look bitch, if I want your fucking opinion I’ll give it to you when I blow my feathery, fucking load across your giant, Roman, fucking nose. Yup, that-th right, two teaspoons of creamy, bubbly, duck oppion! And ath for your “help”, the only help I need from you ith when I’m bending out a brown loaf on your dirty fucking chest! How does that thound thith-ter? You like the thound of that? Huh? Do ya?

Woman #2 stands up in disgust and tries to walk away. Greg grabs her arm violently and throws her to the ground.

Bugs: You think you can just walk away from me? I’ve made a generation of fucking human beings giggle their mudda fuckin asses off and you think you can just toin your back on me and walk away like I’m fucking Hobbes or something? Bitch, I’ll cut you!

Greg grabs a knife from the kitchen table.

Bugs (continued): I’ll k-u-t your cracker ass and dip my carrot in the bleeding, burping gash you fucking whore! I’m just that fucking crazy!

Yogi: He’s just loony enough to do it too.

Daffy: Aw you’ve gone and done it now thith-ter. He’s pithed. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him thith pithed. I’d run if I were you. And not like that Slowpoke Rodriguez punk either…. Run like The Flash, you know from the comics. Hey, can I say “The Flash”? Oh yeah, Time Warner owns DC comics. I can talk about The Flash all I want, HOO! Ahem…yeah, run like him.

Woman #2: Aaah! Heeelp!

She scampers to the door but is stopped by a stomp to the middle of her back, throwing her once again to the floor.

Bugs: Bitch, you made me spill the mudda fuckin coke. I oughtta shoot your ass. Yeah that’s right, shoot your ass right in your poity little head. I know I’ve got an elephant gun around here somewhere. But foist…

Greg walks up to the front door locks it with a key he pulls from his pocket and swallows the key with a big gulp.

Bugs: Ack, remind me to tell my animators how awful those tings taste. Hey…do you hear sirens…?

Shortly thereafter the carrot-chunked shit hit the Acme fan. I’m honestly glad there was a peaceful resolution to this little incident. How on Earth would we have explained this kind of thing to the children of the world had it ended voilently? “Sorry honey, Bugs Bunny now sounds like a stuttering Asian because the guy who did the voice before he flipped out, shot 9 cops, impaled another 3 with some Acme steel-coated carrots and was shot dead in the back when he tried to escape on a pogo stick.”

Oh the humanity…