Viewmaster Booklet Reference Library by Mr Viewmaster
B538 Road Runner (dioramas)
| Wile E. (Ethelbert) Coyote (also known simply as "The
Coyote") and the Road Runner are cartoon characters from a series of
Looney Tunes and Merrie Melodies cartoons, created by Chuck Jones in
1948 for Warner Brothers. Chuck Jones based the character of the coyote
on Mark Twain's Roughing It, in which Twain describes the coyote as "a
long, slim, sick and sorry-looking skeleton" that is "a living,
breathing allegory of Want. He is always hungry." Twain also notes that
despite his poor appearance, the coyote is so fast that if threatened,
by the time you have aimed your rifle "nothing but an unusually
long-winded streak of lightning could reach him where he is now." Wile
E. has brown fur, wiry body, huge ears and black nose. Wile E. speaks in
the cartoons in which he battles Bugs Bunny, but otherwise he speaks
rarely. In those he has an upper-class English accent and an egotistical
bearing. The Road Runner has dark blue and dark lavender feathers. Wile
E. was voiced by Mel Blanc and the Road Runner by Paul Julian. Chuck Jones once said of his most famous protagonist and antagonist that "Wile E. is my reality, Bugs Bunny is my goal." He originally created the Road Runner cartoons as a parody of traditional "cat and mouse" cartoons (such as Tom and Jerry) which were increasingly popular at the time. The major difference is that the audience's sympathy is drawn to Wile E., a comically ineffectual predator whose hunts always end in disaster. |
| Back in the 1960's I had some whopping ideas. Once
I paced the floor waiting for a package from Acme. VIEW-MASTER REEL ONE ELECTRIC SKATE BOARD PICTURE 1. THE ACME driver dropped the package on my foot. Although it was flattened like a pancake, I dragged it as I opened the box. My tail swished back and forth in excitement, and first thing I knew, it was caught in the fan. It whirled me around a few times, chewing up my tail badly. That settled it! I'd chew up Road Runner. Smiling slyly, I saw myself sailing down the road to overtake him. Then I heard the roar of a sports car and the familiar "Beep! Beep!" Road Runner went around that car like the east wind around a farmhouse, and the breeze he made doubled the cactus to the ground. PICTURE 2. THE CACTUS FLIPPED back sending its sharp needles into my pelt. I jumped straight up, howling in pain. Road Runner was so far gone now there was nothing in sight but a cloud of dust. I fumed as I pulled out the needles, and made up my mind I would catch Road Runner if it was the last thing I did. Raising my head with this thought, I pricked up my ears and wiggled the end of my nose. Carefully lifting the skate board and fan out of the trunk, I started to put my invention together. PICTURE 3, BUSY AS A BUMBLEBEE in a barrel of tar, I grabbed the electric drill to bore a hole for the masthead. Put-tut-ut-ut! Pumph! Yeow! The drill had gone through to my foot, Limping a little, I fastened the sail to the mast. Work- ing fast, my hands were flying. The fan was bolted securely when I heard Road Runner's "Beep Beep." Baring my teeth in a fiendish grin, I picked up my mallet, plugged in the fan, and stepped aboard. PICTURE 4. THE SAILS BILLOWED OUT and sparks flew off the wheels as I picked up speed. Road Runner looked and opened his beak in fright. Then he thrust his long neck forward and ran so fast his feet looked like tumbleweeds in a Texas tornado. Over the hills and around curves we raced. The dust rolled up behind us like ghosts cavorting on Halloween. Soon I was on his heels. I raised the mallet. I'd squash a long squawk out of him and forever stop those beeps. He turned and grinned at me like a treed possum. I should have been suspicious, but I was so intent on aiming my swing, I didn't see . . . PICTURE 5. ... THE CURVE AHEAD, which I missed and shot out over the canyon. The cord ran out and the fan stopped. The sail folded as limp as a potato sack after the last potato's been fried. I was dropping. Wow! I looked down and became so terrified the hair on my jaws stood straight out. The canyon floor was far, far below, and the ground down there so very, very hard. I wished for a good Texas breeze old-timers said would hold a logging chain in midair, so taut a man could walk on it. Which reminded me . . . PICTURE 6. WASN'T THE WIND OF TEXAS in my lungs? I threw out my chest, took a long, deep breath, and blew. The sails puffed out again. The skate board lifted upward. If I could only hold out till my "ship" landed on the other side. My face turned a raspberry red, then deepened to plum purple as I squeezed the last whiff of breath out of me. Just when the tip of the skate board touched the other side of the canyon, I strained but un-ungh! . . . PICTURE 7. ... MY WIND was gone and I was going— going down. Whi-in-ing! The wind whistled in my ears as they flopped around. Faster and faster I dropped. Looking up, I saw the can- yon walls seem to move to- gether, and looking down, the ground came up to meet me. Zoo-oo-omph! I hit, and the dust rose like an atomic mushroom. From a coyote- shaped hole, I tried to dodge them, but the skate board hit me between the eyes, and the fan plunged into my midriff. From above Road Runner impishly chirped, "Beep! Beep!" |
