The Magic Bullet

Don’t you just love bullets? Super Mario Brothers is teaching me to love them. See that gray thing there with the teensy fist? That one. From chubby girth to angry eye to opera gloved arm, this little boy bullet* gives me the chuckles. He ranks right up there with a monkey giving a cat a bath. A monkey! Washing a cat! Hah ha hah!

As you can see, Bullet Bill’s abilities as a bullet and a boxer are pretty ineffectual, otherwise he wouldn’t be promoting both. The vibe he’s putting out is like, “If I don’t put a cartoon hole through you—and I don’t expect to: I’ve missed my targets so many times that my genetics altered to grow me some arms—I could maybe probably punch you in the neck as I fly by. If I could reach. Hold still, hold still.” Thing is, folks don’t make the best bulls eye while laughing. They squirm, for one thing, then make goo-goo sounds about the cute approaching projectile.

When you think about it, the real world should totally convert to Bullet Bills. Imagine it: World leaders, underhanded masterminds, and sworn enemies, all using weaponry that leads to pleasantries. Let’s pause for a moment and pretend. A whole new arms race, yeah, of magic bullets.

*In the cartoon world, he-ness is symbolized by a lack of eyelashes. In the real world men are naturally blessed with long, robust lashes. Women covet this. Living, breathing women try to mimic this with mascara, which only makes each hair around their eyes look like a long black spider leg.