The Adventures of Captain Scrotor
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As a small child, Mother Hen’s formative years were spent at the knee of two of the gassiest windbags to ever grace the planet. Her father and “uncle” Jim would routinely hold their own crepitation contests, experimenting with various foods to find the perfect blend that would create the most extreme sounds and smells. As this was “business as usual” for life in the Hen’s coop, she grew up thinking that all things flatulent were funny.
As most little kids who idolized their fathers, she thought of her dad as her own personal superhero. His gassiness had become a running joke between them. She has been drawing these “Captain Scrotor” cartoons to commemorate special events in her dad’s life for the past 20 years; everything from comic books to advertisements, pop-up cards and paper dolls. (Fortunately she stopped before engineering a “Scratch and sniff” card.)
Keep in mind these were produced just as a gag gift for her dad in lieu of store-bought cards. He has saved almost all of them. I wanted to share the joy, and MH consented as long as she could fix the colors (time isn’t always kind to ink and paper).
There are many, many, many more!
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LOL! This reminds me of an Angel I made up on Nationstates.org! Brother Flatus, the Avenging Angel!
But when MINE farts, a crack opens up in the earth and demons are cast back into Hell! SO THERE!
Eugene has ripped his pants in just the same place as this Scrotor character has. I have some fringe leftover from making tassels. Perhaps he might be persuaded to dress as the Captain for the Rotary Club Halloween event this fall!
Arrrgh, ye stench brings tears to me freebooting eyes. .
Capt’n Scrotor’s scurvy ways puts the wind in me forward Jibs and strengthens ye Futtock Shrouds.
Hoist up the hogshead and start pouring the bumboo!
After that black bean concoction you made last night, I had to hang yer futtock shrouds outside in the cleansing breeze.
I love this! That’s some fine work there MH.
Oh no! Captain Scrotor’s return! I had forgot all about him, the stench having left my nostrils a few years ago. But it’s back, in full bloom. Probably should consult with Hollywood about film rights.
Dad brought over a folder of Scrotor comics this weekend (I still have some too here someplace.) As an inside joke, it is pretty droll, but it is still an inside joke and I have a feeling it will be about as well received as my other farty nonsense. Hope you all don’t think that is the only thing I find amusing!
Um, nope. Fart noises are never not funny. I had the same contests with my own dad, much to the dismay of my very proper Japanese mom. “Jessica Marie, ladies do not do this”. Great artistry, now I see where your daughter got her skills as an artist.
I love fart noises, but I could go the rest of my life without enduring the olfactory accompaniment. For my dad, it was as much an art as a torture. The sound was secondary to the effluvia. He would try to get enough “hang time” to torment anyone entering the room hours later. The louder we shrieked the more satisfied he was at his “accomplishment”
Contrast this to poor Krell, whose upbringing was so strict that none of the kids ever dared acknowledge the paint-bubbling, wallpaper peeling SBD burrito farts his dad would squeak off all the time. They had to suffer in silence the eye-burning torments. This might be why he finds the Scrotor comics so cathartic.
Brilliant drawings! All things flatulent are funny aren’t they?
Especially after a chicken vindaloo and you’re wifey is just going to sleep and you let a ‘silent but deadly’ go under the quilt, waft the quilt and wait for the reaction!
Nothing better than shared family “inside” jokes and running gags.
Sounds like MH could enjoy fun with her dad,that’s a wonderful thing.