Nope, I’m still not dead yet. I mean, I just spent $18 to renew my domain just now. I figured I’d make it worth something.
No, I still haven’t been back to Walt Disney World to visit my “buddies”. In fact, I think more about the other Characters than I do the Citizens of Hollywood. That’s not to say that I’ve completely forgotten about them. How could you forget such colorful characters from “the good times”? All I can say about those who have moved on from 1947 Hollywood is they’re in a better place. Especially Francis Fl… oh wait, I forgot. In my head canon, he got eaten by the Fantasmic dragon. Or did he suffer a concussion during an accident with the Public Works that gave him Irreversible Personality Disorder and now goes by the name Lady Winifred? I gotta straighten this out.
Speaking of my CoH head canon, I’ve finished off the rest of the printed stack of Tales comics and included my business card with my various outlets. They’re all in a shoebox ready to be sent out to indie comics artists/fans and CoH Streetmosphans alike. They also make great Christmas presents (hint hint). Then I got to thinking about the letter of thanks I received from Disney Guest Experience Services regarding said comic booklet received by the Citizens and how much they appreciated it. Could this mean that I have their blessing to make new stories for new comics, or, dare I say it, submit them to the local comic shop that carry indie zines like what I have for money?
Or maybe I’m just over-analyzing this, and should concentrate on my own works-in-progress.
You know how the day goes. It starts out pretty fine, you hang in there until about mid-afternoon, and by the end of the day you’re so tired and cranky, that you feel like punching the next person who approaches you for any reason (but don’t do that, really please). This happens to me often, but today I found a remedy for such feelings.
So I got home, went through my mail, and one of the envelopes came from Walt Disney World. It didn’t look like advertising, and I’m wondering what it could have been. I opened the envelope, and read the following:
Dear Mr. Fay,
Thank you very much for writing to the Walt Disney World Resort.
I wanted to thank you for the wonderful comics that you sent in and to let you know that I have shared them with the Citizens of Hollywood. The Citizens were extremely flattered with the amount of dedication you put into your work and appreciate you sharing your creativity with them. We appreciate your passion for the Disney brand and hope that we are able to see you again in the future.
Mr. Fay, thank you again for contacting us.
You have absolutely no idea how elated I was while I was reading this.
Seriously, this letter was exactly the thing I needed to brighten my day. It had been like a month or more since I packaged one of my Tales from the Golden Age of Hollywood Comics and sent it back through time to Paige Turner because she requested one. Considering that most of the cast has changed since I made those comics, I’m still glad that they continue to appreciate my works.
It’s kind of a shame that I was considering closing this blog since I haven’t heard any other news from the Citizens. As far as I know, they’re still on Hollywood/Sunset Boulevard doing their usual skits, holding their Funniest Citizens competition, and making life a little more funny every day. Still, it would be nice to know that folks like Paige Turner, Shelby Mayer, Evie Starlight, Beau Wrangler, and anyone else from the “good times” are still in Hollywood and haven’t forgotten me despite me not being there in a while.
First of all, I know it’s been forever since I’ve posted on here, and I don’t blame any of you if you stopped following (in fact, I’m pretty sure there’s a subscription feature that lets you know when I’ve made a new post), but I just had to share a couple things that’s been going on despite the lack of CoH news that’s been thrown my way.
First of all, the Tales from the Golden Age of Hollywood fan comic book that I made which cost me $11 to print at Kinko’s was a big hit when I used it to build an indie comics network at a local comic art convention. Got some pretty neat trades, and just now I emailed my contacts to let them know that I’m still interested in what they have to offer. How did I accomplish this arduous task? I learned how to print comic books using graphics software and my printer (learning how to sequence my art and pages helped). I must have distributed over 45 out of the 50 books that I had printed. Hey, Paige Turner, I got one with your name on it.
But that’s not the reason why I’m posting.
Lately, I’ve been spending most of my time on DeviantArt, the website for artists of all kinds, and I managed to capture the attention of someone who is just as moderately big a fan of the Citizens as I am. In fact, he subscribed to me just to check out my stuff. So I’m sitting there, watching the 2011 Citizens cast doing the “99 Jokes Walk Into A Bar” routine, and as I’m reading the comments, I notice the icon of one of the posters looking awfully familiar. I checked out this person’s YouTube profile, scrolled down as far as I could, and to my surprise I find that he favorited this vid of the cabbie betting on horses named after park attractions (You probably have seen this before on this site, but I can’t remember):
My mind is honestly blown. All I can say now is thanks for liking my stuff, and if you want to see more, please subscribe to my YouTube channel, follow me on Twitter (this blog is connected to it), or check out past blog entries. I promise I will try to bring you more news when they come about. And to think, I was actually going to end this blog because I’m more busy with washing dishes at an airport’s food prep facility among other commitments and not with my own personal time.
This could be any kind of new CoH character, but it’s not because we all know Disney never accepts any ideas from anyone more creative than themselves.
No, this sketch came from the reaction I got from my original Tales from the Golden Age of Hollywood mini-comic that I had posted about earlier after showing it to several of my friends in person who liked it, including an art therapist at a community center in Brooklyn that I regularly go to. I told him about how I liked to create comic stories like this one, and he offered me some tips on how to create original characters and center stories around them. For instance, the sketch above represents my two main characters that I’ve developed, with inspiration from the original CoH, and I’ve already built a page-by-page breakdown plot of their first story. I think it came out quite good.
So who is this pretty girl and her dog anyway? Do you really think I’m going to tell you? I haven’t even thumbnailed the first 11 pages of story that I already have plotted out. Patience, blog readers. There are several projects I’m already involved in that require my time which there is not nearly enough of. This is just one of them.
Another thing; my sister suggested I join DeviantArt to showcase my art talents and try and connect with others who share my interests. Normally, I’d never register with an interactive-user site under the presumption that I’d be further enslaving myself to technology, but if it was suggested by an outside source then that makes it okay. I’m glad that I did, because I can see that there are in fact people who can make a profit off of art, especially in the genre that I’m best at. You see these type of people in Artist Alley at Comic-Cons everywhere, and this is what I’d like to do while I’m looking for a real job. So if you know of any “cartoonist colonies” out in the NYC area that are looking for talented folks to join their ranks, pass my name along, could you? I’d appreciate it.
First of all, I’m still not dead yet. I just don’t post as much as I did in the beginning when I first started this blog because, well, I just haven’t had any news regarding our favorite ’47 Thespians lately. I did, however, discover this compelling tweet from one Jess Furtado (code name @loveWDW5), and I couldn’t agree more with her sentiments. Let’s take a look.
The Disney Channel Rocks stage show at Disney’s Hollywood Studios took over for the High School Musical Pep Rally when that franchise’s popularity was winding down. Either that, or some “Einstein” suggested since Disney Channel had so many popular musical-themed properties like High School Musical, why not combine all their musical programs into one garishly-obnoxious theme park stage show with WDW College Program performance interns who look like teens bouncing around like Powerball lottery numbers to overpowering, neo-teeny-bopper noise that’s supposed to pass for music that’s “hip for young guests”. If this is supposed to entertain kids, I have very little hope for the future of mankind.
Now let’s take a look at what should be playing at Hollywood Studios instead of this eye-bleeding display of youthful puke-inducing mind-bender
I think we all know who wins here, right?
Several days later, after recouping from our extravagant adventure, Eugene, Artemis and myself decided to go to a diner to take our minds off of the events that had occurred during that time. This gave us a good chance for Artemis to get to know us better, and to learn something from our experience.
As we sat at our given booth, menus in hand, Artemis said to Eugene, “I’m sorry my Freedom Fighters had to dismantle your Time Hopper and lock the surviving notes from your grandfather away for safekeeping. You know, in case they fall into the wrong hands again.”
“That’s okay, Artemis,” Eugene replied. “I guess man was not yet meant to try and control the natural laws of time and space, and even if we could, the past could never be truly changed for any intent or purpose.”
I smiled. “Well said, friend. Well said.”
At that time, our waitress came by to take our order. “Would you kids like to start out with something to drink?”
I began to order a diet coke for myself when I looked upon the familiar face of the waitress. I stared in awe of her flaming red hair, her sparkling eyes, her shiny smile, her bubbly personality, and for a moment, I thought I was looking at someone I had seen before in another time. “Molly Coddler? Is that you?”
The waitress glared back at us, mouth agape. “Excuse me,” she intoned severely, “Molly Coddler was my maternal grandmother, and how do you know her name? That’s kinda creepy, mister.”
I turned beet red from embarrassment as I buried my head in my menu. “S-sorry,” I managed to utter in the lowest tone I could manage. “You just looked like somebody I knew, and… um, never mind. Just don’t spit in my food, okay?”
The waitress continued to look at me for a few seconds more until Eugene ordered two diet cokes for himself and me, and Artemis ordered an unsweetened tea. Once the waitress left, my two friends did their best to comfort me and help me forget about what I went through. Their efforts were noble, but when once you’ve experienced what I went through, it’s rather hard to forget.
As I could feel myself and the van drivers coming to, I looked through the small window to see where we were at, and it was very different. For starters, the sun was in the process of setting, and we were on a street that was unfamiliar except to me. That made me smile. Then my attention was drawn to my captors trying to make contact with their home base to report their findings. They were greeted by a combination of static and a pair of teenage girls talking to each other. Something was definitely up. I heard Agent Hechter suggesting to his partner that they check in on their “cargo”. This would be a decision they regretted making as I heard them step out of the van and into a struggle.
When the struggle ended, and the two agents begged for mercy, I could hear a familiar female voice sneering at them in reply. “You’re lucky I didn’t let my associate hit you with the big one.” That line made me laugh.
“Who are you?” I heard Agent Schechter ask frantically. “Where are we? What do your want?”
“Did you want those answers in any particular order?” the female replied.
“Just tell us what you want from us,” Agent Hechter pleaded
After a slight pause, the female said, “I want you to release your prisoner.”
“No way, lady!” declared Agent Hechter. “He gave himself up willingly.”
“Yeah,” piped in Agent Schechter. “We had a deal!”
The next thing I heard were a pair of guns being cocked for firing and the hum of some kind of electronic energy device. Somehow, that made the agents break down and agree to the lady’s terms with no tricks. I then heard the footsteps of one of the agents, I don’t know whom, get up and walk slowly towards the van to retrieve the set of keys. It seemed like the “no tricks” agreement was working until I heard the jangle of the keys in midair and the sounds of another struggle. This one was worse than before. My heart sank until I heard the rear door of the van unlocking.
Instantly, I turned to the rear door to find a familiar, and friendlier face. “Eugene!” I wanted to declare until he held a finger to his lips to indicate quiet. He needed the stealth and the distraction of the outside struggle to free me from my cuffs and help me out the van where I found my captors holding the female, Artemis, in custody, handcuffs and all.
Agent Hechter had the Artemis’ hands cuffed behind her back while Schechter was in charge of the guns. “Just to warn you, toots,” Hechter said, “there’s going to be a whole bunch of answers we’ll be pulling out of you back at base.”
“And how do you expect to get there without your car keys and a direct route back to 1947?” I called out at them.
The agents looked ahead and found me standing in front of the rear door to the van, free and victorious. I thanked Eugene and Artemis for the rescue as I slammed the rear door.
Agent Schechter wasn’t too happy with my liberation as he drew both guns and declared, “That’s it! You’re going down! All of you!”
“And then what?” I smirked. “If you dispose of us, you’ll never find a way back to your time. Then you’ll have to adjust to living in the future with all our smartphones and tablets and laptop computers and hi-def TVs…”
Agent Schechter asked his partner what I was talking about, to which Agent Hechter asked me, “What exactly do you mean, ‘our time?’ “
Eugene and I directed their attention to the Time Hopper, and we explained to them how I got access to their time period and all the events that had happened up until this point. They still looked at us in disbelief and asked how we knew I was in their custody in the past from the future.
This time, Artemis spoke up. “Apparently, while the Time Hopper was in the custody of the Special Forces Agency in our era, there were some modifications made that could trace its users from wherever they were in the time stream. Nothing more but simple homing devices embedded into the holographic projectors the traveler would have on him.”
Eugene then spoke up, “Once we were able to track our friend here, it was easy enough to set the coordinates and send a beam of tacheon energy into the atmosphere and into your time period through an artificial thundercloud that would home in on the signal and zap our prize back to the present. Naturally, you and your truck just happened to be stowaways.”
As Agent Hechter released Artemis, Agent Schechter rubbed his forehead with his thumb and forefinger anticipating a headache. “Look, guys and gals, me and my partner just want to go home and get some rest before our brains become completely fried. Can you help us out? This time, we really mean no tricks.”
The three of us called a conference to decide the fate of the two agents out of time. Much murmuring amongst us occurred as the agents looked on hopefully. When we completed our conference, we turned to the agents, and I said, “Return to your van. You are free to go,” and I tossed them back their car keys.
Agent Schechter professed undying gratitude to us as he started towards the passenger side when Hechter halted him and said, “Wait a minute. I want him to throw the switch on that contraption.” The “him” in question, for some reason, was me.
I looked at them and asked, “Why me? Eugene here created the thing. I’m just the guinea pig.”
Agent Hechter crossed his arms. “You should know why. You’re the one who caused the mess in Hollywood in the first place. You’re responsible.”
Eugene placed a comforting hand on my shoulder and said, “His reasoning does make sense. No worries, I’ll help guide you through the process.” I shrugged and nodded in compliance as we both went over to the Time Hopper while the two agents got in their van. Artemis followed them and informed them not to reveal any of the events that had occurred during these past months.
After a basic rundown of the controls, I started to flip a few switches and turn some dials. As I did, the machine hummed with electricity and the cannon part started glowing different colors as it focused its aim on the van. While this warming up process happened, Artemis and Eugene stood by me, and once everything was all set to go, I pressed the big red button that fired the tacheon laser beam right at the agent’s van. We shielded our eyes from the bright flash of white light that emitted when the laser made contact.
As the light cleared out, we examined the area where the van stood from our position. There was nothing left but a charred spot of asphalt. The three of us breathed a sigh of relief knowing now that the proverbial weight on our collective shoulders have been lifted, and we could now go on with our lives in peace. However, our victory was short-lived as Eugene called my attention over to the chronal-monitor.
“Buddy,” he said, “are you sure you sent them back to 1947 Hollywood?”
“Yeah,” I replied suspiciously, “why?”
The three of us looked at the co-ordinates only to find out that the 1 and the 9 in the year field were transposed, accidentally sending Agents Hechter and Schechter into the far distant future where no one in our time could predict what may occur at such a far-off date.
Both Eugene and Artemis face-palmed themselves. “Well, look on the bright side,” I said offering a positive view, “at least they won’t be bothering anyone else in either the past or the present, and the zombies will have fresh brains to munch on.” Both of them shot me a dirty look that I could only reply to with, “Um… they’ll make good slaves for the robot rulers?”