“Bubbles The Snitch”

bubbles underwater drown tied up sleeps with the fishes mobster gangster ropes bound suit 1920s 1930s cartoon comic character deisign black white ink sketchbookjack polaroid retro vintage old shoe rubber ducky blurry distorted humor comedy funny art

“Bubbles The Snitch”
(In the style of a commercial jingle)

Plop, plop, fizz fizz,
You’s in trouble, yes you is.
Oh “Bubbles,” you’re such a rotter.
How’s it down there in the water?

You and your brothers
are quite the bothers.
All you stool pigeons
must pay for your sins.
It’s not so nice
to tattle to vice,
now you ain’t got no brass
to cover your ass.

Plop, plop, fizz fizz,
You’s in trouble, yes you is.
Bet you are hoping for wishes,
How is it sleeping with the fishes?

You’re ┬áin such a snitching rut,
can’t just keep it shut?
It’s ok, it’s no sweat.
Everyone will soon forget.
No protection and no fame,
we’ll even have to change your name.
They’ll never know if you were poor or rich,
only that you were “Bubbles The Snitch”

Plop, plop, fizz fizz,
You’s in trouble, yes you is.
Snitch snitch, what a snake,
how’s the bottom of the lake?

For Illustration Friday’s: Under Water

The Milkman

milkman_daily_mobster_cartoon_sketchbookjack_illustration_character_design

The Milkman

Make sure to leave your empty bottles on the step,

or he will have to make a special, second visit.

Oh, and you butter rinse out them bottles, will ya, please?

Don’t fret with that old saying about running away with the milkman.

No running will be involved; he only drags people away.

His English is, how do you say, not so good.

I think he might be from MosCow.

Make sure you get plenty of fluids, and drink all that he leaves,

or there will be tears cried over spilled milk.

In fact, you might be buried in dirt pasteurize.

I don’t know if this milkman works for the mob,

but he sure ain’t like the udder ones.

(For Illustration Friday: “Fluid”)

Little Margie Mason

little_margie_mason_daily_mobster_sketchbookjack_cartoon_illustration

Little Margie Mason

Sing a song of schoolyards.

You’d think she’s awfully shy,

but Little Margie Mason

made them all cry.

Glue was on the desk chair,

tacks were in the shoes,

sticky candy in their hair,

who should they accuse?

The coppers called her daddy,

cuz teacher’s at a loss,

but Mr. Daddy Mason

was a mob man boss.

So the teacher and the children

put up with her sass,

because Little Margie Mason

owns this class.

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