BRAD:  Hello again. This time we've got a daring
           space adventure from the Cold War.

WALDO:  Forbidden Planet?

RAVEN:  Plan 9 From Outer Space?

BRAD:  Uh, no. It's a Space Mouse story from
           WOODY WOODPECKER &73, Oct. '62. The
           giant-sized County Fair issue.

RAVEN: THERE'S your marketing hook.

WOODY: Now here, friends... A treat that's out of
            this world! With the giant Radio-Ear
            telescope, we can be in on the adventures
            of Space Mouse!

BRAD:  Take a look at the Universe! Only 25 cents!

RAVEN:  Hey, that's right! Most of the New Universe
             books are in the quarter boxes!

WOODY:  Say, looks like trouble on the Planet

RADIO:  Space Mouse! Report from Cheddar Valley!
             Bubble carrying off another farmer!

BRAD:   Gotta watch them bubbles. Just ask Greenspan.

NARRATOR:  Soon...

SPACE MOUSE: King Size! If there is some super-
           intelligence controlling those bubbles, they might
           be able to keep track of MY movements, too!

WALDO:  You mean they've belled the mouse?

SPACE MOUSE: We can't stop those bubbles from
           carrying off our people unless we know what
           it is we're fighting... where those bubbles are going!

WALDO:  Insufficient Data.

RAVEN:   In Indifferent Context.

SPACE MOUSE:  So, if it takes a disguise to improve my ,
            chances I'll just have to become another potential

KING SIZE: Take care!

BRAD:   Imagine, a spacefaring monarchy.

WALDO: Just like Ministry of Space. With fur.

SPACE MOUSE: Don't worry! I'll keep in radio contact
           with you... even if I am now going to be just
           a harmless peddler!

BRAD:  In his government-issue spaceship...

KING SIZE: I'll have a rescue rocket fleet ready!

RAVEN: With all the Rescue Rangers!

NARRATOR: But days later, still on patrol...

RADIO: Space Mouse... Attention! Another bubble raid...
           over at Mousely Farms!

SPACE MOUSE: Oh, why won't they pick on me?

RAVEN: Okay, your mother dresses you funny!

WALDO: That's his disguise.

RADIO:  The bubble just appeared out of nowhere and
             zoomed off with another farmer!

SPACE MOUSE: Sizzling star-trails! It's just too !
           impossible It all happens too fast! I can't ever
           get on their trail!

BRAD:  A sleek spaceship under a trailer marked, 'junk.'
           I'm not sure if that's funny or stupid.

RAVEN: I'M sure.

SPACE MOUSE: (voiceover) I might as well give up!
            There's about one chance in ten billion that
            one of those bubbles will EVER pick on me!

BRAD:   That's your cue, Mr. Welk...


SPACE MOUSE: Agh! And THIS is the ONE!

RAVEN:  They plucked him out of the cornfield.

WALDO:  But they won't leave the corn behind.

SPACE MOUSE: (GASP!) Appear out of nowhere is right!
           And so strong! It's incredible! Must be a radio
           force field using an atomized cohesive moisture
           supplement attracted right from the air!

RAVEN:  THIS was in a KID'S book?

WALDO:  By Gene Roddenberry.

SPACE MOUSE: Space Mouse calling King Size! King Size!

WALDO: I think he's "Venti," these days...


SPACE MOUSE: Ow! Too much interference! Which means
           that this bubble must be travelling on a magnetic
           wave! (GULP!) ...and there goes my chance for
           any radio contact!

WALDO: Not much detail to those passing planets.

BRAD: The monochrome backgrounds are to make
           Space Mouse pop out.

RAVEN: Too bad they don't make his bubble pop.

NARRATOR: Finally...

SPACE MOUSE: Why, this is one of the Cloud Planets!
          We always thought they were uninhabited!
           ...Buildings! Who could live in such a
           soggy place?

WALDO:  Uh-oh.

RAVEN:  Not ol' Boxy Shorts!

BRAD: Just wait.

OFFSTAGE SINISTER VOICE: I could, Space Mouse! Ha-Ha!

BRAD:   We see a sweaty figure working lab controls
            through the miasma.

RAVEN:  I use an inhaler for miasma.

SPONGEMAN:  But you will never be able to tell King
                     Size, I fear... until I bring him to join you!


SPACE MOUSE: Good grief! Do you know everything?

SPONGEMAN:  The skin of the bubble serves as an
                      excellent thought-gathering antenna!

BRAD:  It's a shame Space Mouse didn't last 'til
           Star Trek's glory years; they've got the
           doubletalk down cold.

SPACE MOUSE: You're one of the ancient Sponge Men,
           aren't you? I've read about you fellows, but...
           I thought you lived over on the Milky Way!

SPONGEMAN:  Not any more! Not ME!

RAVEN: Too many Snickers.

SPONGEMAN:  Milk is fine, but I got so tired of being
                     sopped in it! Over here, in the water
                     clouds, is the only life for any intelligent

RAVEN:  If he's a sponge, shouldn't he be porous? And yellow?

WALDO: And live in a pineapple under the sea?

RAVEN: This guy looks like Elmer Fudd as a sweaty squarehead.

SPONGEMAN:  With my genius, I shall be a whole one-man
                     glorious civilization... my bubbles plucking
                     slaves like you from off your stupid little

SPACE MOUSE: Well, if you have our people here, you're
           letting them go right now, Spongy... 'Cause that's
           why I'm here!

BRAD:  Call him Space Moses.

SPONGEMAN:  Oh, mercy! Such silly heroics! I shall simply
                     have to bubble you unmercifully!

BRAD:  And his wand shoots out bubble after bubble.



RAVEN: The bubbles made him squeak.

WALDO: I thought you laughed at danger, mouse.

SPONGEMAN:  Drop your gun! You know I can conjure up
                     bubbles as long as there's moisture in the
                     air! Heh-heh!


SPACE MOUSE: All right!... Oh, I feel groggy! Take me to those
           slave pens!


SPONGEMAN: Hah! That's more like it!

BRAD:  Looks like Twinkie the Kid in the sauna. Ew.

MOUSE 1: (GASP!) LOOK! He has even captured Space

MOUSE 2: Then all hope is lost!

SPACE MOUSE:  Oh-h! Now my head is clearing.

BRAD:  Spongeman locks the door.

SPACE MOUSE: Now that Spongy believes I've given up,
           will you chums tell me all you know about his setup?

MOUSE 1: We don't know much! All we do is assemble
               things according to diagrams!

MOUSE 2: They don't make much sense until he puts
               different parts together, I guess.

BRAD:  So, he has his high-tech stuff built by...

RAVEN: He must make his money on the warranties.

SPACE MOUSE: Hmm... Interesting... but our first bet
             is another try for TV or radio contact with
             King Size!

MOUSE 2: Your electra-belt looks too banged up to work!
               ... That's the only reason Spongy let him keep it!

WALDO:  Thank you, Roy Thom-mouse.

MOUSE 1: Wait! Space Mouse is getting through!

KING SIZE: Yes Space Mouse, you're coming through! Oh, my
           word! Prisoners of a ruthless Spongeman!? On
           which cloud planet?

SPACE MOUSE: I don't know, King Size... (crackle-crackle!
           sput-sput!) Ow! My electra-belt is going out...

KING SIZE:  Now we can't even zero in on his belt beam!

ROCKETMOUSE 1: We'll find them, sire... even if we have to
           search every cloud planet!

ROCKETMOUSE 2: There are only twenty or thirty of them!

KING SIZE:  We'll each take a couple!

WALDO:  Gee, one team for two whole planets. Not overbooking,
             are we?

NARRATOR: But, days later...

MOUSE 2: They'll never find us! They might even go to cloud
               planets 'way on the other side of the universe!

WALDO: Yeah! That'd take them at least a week!

RAVEN: How can this be a sweatshop, if Sponge-boy's the
            only one sweating?

SPACE MOUSE: If I could just get to one of Spongy's radios,
           I could beam them in fast!

MOUSE 1: Impossible! Remember how he bubbled you before?

BRAD:  Remember it? It made me glad there was only one
           Space Mouse cartoon.

MOUSE 2: Those are really gas bubbles! You can't keep
               your wits about you when he makes them!

BRAD:  Worse than Wakko Warner's.

SPACE MOUSE: Heh... but what if his bubble gun won't work on me?

MOUSE 1: There's so much moisture in the air! He can always
               seem to stir up those pesky bubbles!

WALDO: Insert burrito joke.

SPACE MOUSE: But look what I've been making from
           some of his electronic parts... a compact little
           high-power dehumidifer!

BRAD:  Special order for Niles Crane.

MOUSE 1:  (Gasp!) you mean to DRY THE AIR?

SPACE MOUSE: Right! The air around ME, so there won't
           be enough moisture for his bubble trick... I hope!

MOUSE 2: (Gulp!) We all hope!

NARRATOR: Meanwhile, far across space...


ROCKETMOUSE 2: Look out! High mountains on this
           cloud planet!

ROCKETMOUSE 1: There's nothing under these clouds
           except more clouds! Sire, it's beginning to
           look hopeless!

KING SIZE: Oh, does Space Mouse's glorious career
           have to end like this?

BRAD:  How could it be a glorious career with
           such a generic name?

SPONGEMAN: Why did you call, Space Mouse? WHY?
           No funny business, now! I warned you!

SPACE MOUSE: It won't be very funny... I hope!

RAVEN: Why start now?

BRAD:  And concentric lines emanate from the

WALDO: Making him Personal Space Mouse.

SPONGEMAN: I'll teach you! I'll bubble you fiercely!
           Take that... and that!

SPACE MOUSE: HAH! See, chums? No bubbles!

WALDO: Thanks to my Magic Coffee Rings!

SPONGEMAN: Agh! Where are they? Why can't I make

RAVEN:  Blossom and Buttercup won't let you, perv.

SPACE MOUSE: Heh... my trusty little dehumidifier
           is working too well!

BRAD:  He's the Thinking Man's Funny-Animal Space Hero.

RAVEN: Yeah, a real Adam Mange.

SPONGEMAN: Oh, no! It's not fair! You're drying the air!
           Keep that thing away from me! I'm allergic to

SPACE MOUSE: Which makes this a perfect way to
           handle sinister sponges... heh... from now on!

WALDO: Space Mouse, call for you on Line One, a Mr.

ROCKETMOUSE 1: A signal! A signal! It's Space Mouse!

BRAD: Calloo, callay, already!

KING SIZE: All ships assemble! It won't be long now!

RAVEN: Thank God.

NARRATOR: And so...

KING SIZE: Humph! He's lucky you didn't dry him up completely!

SPACE MOUSE: He's too great a genius, King Size! This way he'll be glad
           to stay home on the Milky Way!

RAVEN:  Where he'll stay Forever Young.

BRAD:  Okay, obscure candy refs are in bad taste.

SPACE MOUSE: Heh...I convinced him that he'll have a sopping good
           time trying to HOMOGENIZE it!

RAVEN:  Oh no! This story promotes the Homogenizing Lifestyle!

SPONGEMAN: Hmm... I might even whip up a whipped-cream galaxy!

BRAD:  Keep that up and we'll have to build a restaurant at the
           end of the universe. -- And that's our story. Raven, Waldo,
           any comments?

RAVEN:  ...You say there was a cartoon about this mess?

BRAD:  There was one animated cartoon about this character
           but it's unlikely to be shown these days -- it featured
           Siamese cats who talked like Charlie Chan. Despite this
           Dell/Gold Key published several stories about Space
           Mouse but he just never... took off.

WALDO:  Well, I'll say one thing about this story.

BRAD: What's that?

WALDO:  It wasn't spongeworthy.