Famous Chicago Cold and Flu Liquid: A Follow-Up

Some time back I issued a warning regarding certain companies to avoid. One B. T. Winningthorpe (alternate spelling: Winningthrope) took offense and wrote to me some sort of rambling family saga of loose associations and some rather boring and mostly irrelevant history. I believe he was under the impression that I would extract some sort of sympathy for him from this tale and understand his "reasons" about why his business has gone awry. Further independent investigations by myself and my loyal postman have revealed that the Famous Chicago brand is actually the third incarnation of what was originally Blythe Corn Syrup Factory and Corn Medicine Shoppe. You may remember this product:

Bythe Corn and Sulfate Starch Thrombosis Powders:

"As Sulfate Would Have It"

It was quickly removed from druggist's shelves for false advertising (as a joke or entertainment, per the US Food and Drug Act.)

Next came Improved Chicago Lung Paste:

"Expectorant Only the Best"

This product too was forcibly discontinued for mislabeling. It was, in fact, not improved and was determined to be more of a salve than a paste.

I make no apologies for providing the public with true facts and certainly make no apologies to groveling humbugs. Or hysterics.

The Taming of John the Baptist, A Critical Review

Last evening, dear Mr. Thoroughgood and I had the unfortunate experience of viewing The Taming of John the Baptist, the most abhorrent piece of theatrical dreck that has ever existed.

Worse than last year's Ring my Bell! The Many Loves of the Hunchback of Notre Dame, and more offensive than the Battle Creek Family Players' recent dramatization of Stryper's 1986 album To Hell with the Devil, last evening's entertainments have left me with the desire to fumigate my eyes. (Yes, it was even worse than Comstock! The Musical.)

Unfortunately, the director did not understand the subtle differences between Baptists and Boaters.

Charmed by the description of this "playful romantic romp with just a hint of religion," Mr. Thoroughgood and I trotted gullibly off to the playhouse. Idiots! We were idiots!

Local Medium and Battle Creek's single largest producer of ectoplasmic jellies, Mr. Barrabas Scrivener's portrayal of the title character might have been somewhat tolerable had he not spent the entire first act swimming in a shark tank. All of his lines had to be overdubbed by Charlie the Prop Boy from backstage.

Miss Vidalia Orpheum was quite stunning as Pansy Tankett, the fast-talking cabaret dancer, but her otherwise flawless performance was woefully impaired by the fact that she was stinking drunk. Mr. Thoroughgood counted seventeen times she fell of the stage. But what really tipped us off was her impromptu striptease in the middle of Sir Lancelot's pivotal "To kill myself or not to kill myself" speech, culminating in a wardrobe so tangled it took five stagehands to put her to rights.

The divine Miss Vidalia Orpheum mistaking Mr. Blinkums the Horse for her love interest.

The coup de grace, however, was director's fatal decision to move the setting of the play from Biblical Jerusalem to Colonial Jamestown. I don't know about you, but I was certainly not aware that there were so many cabarets and auto mechanics in Colonial America, not to mention several Knights of the Round Table! But who am I to deny others their breathtaking stupidity?

The Taming of John the Baptist will be playing Thursday through Sunday at 9pm and 11:30pm until the end of the month. I urge you all to avoid this monstrosity as though it were the most virulent consumption. In fact, I would rather you caught consumption that be subjected to this offal.

Some Useful Charts

I have provided some useful charts for your edification: