In-Con Sequential Art
Friday
Feb122010

Rollin' '20s

Batmobile in the alley, and we’re dressed to the nines
C0splay and 3P both reciting our lines
New venue, new location, never heard of Nerdcore
Thought we’d school some fresh fans, so we strolled to the door
Then a gentleman appeared, “Horsefeathers!  You’re here!
I’d been left holding the bag had you two gents not appeared”
Kinda weird, we gave a look, but we followed him in
Couldn’t tell much of the deco with the lighting so dim
Hustled ‘hind the stage, heard some jazz and a crowd
Velvet curtains drawn across like a gallery shroud
“This juice joint’s jumpin’,” says the man in the back
“If you can keep the hoofers flappin’, boys, I’ll double the jack.”
Taken aback, we stutter-stammered, couldn’t get out the words
But then the curtains part, and spotlights settle on two nerds
Blinded by the brightness in this screwy saloon
We stepped up to the mics, began to suddenly croon

Drink some hooch, blow some gage
Death Star’s ducky in any age
Bull you no lines, we’re no flat tires
Nothin’ but the bee’s knees with these two live wires
Don’t need giggle-water to get your wiggle on
Dancin’ to these dew-droppers ‘til you’re gone, daddy, gone
Bump that Victrola on the ones and twos
Find a skirt that skates around and you’ll be pitching woo


Not sure what we said, but from the look on all their faces
We were killin’, so we rolled with it – right off to the races
It was a little bit odd, but by the time it was over
I was looking over a four leaf clover
Couldn't stop my feet from subtle soft-shoein'
Had the Charleston going 'fore I knew what I was doin'
Dizzy dames drapin' over to the left and the right
Patois pugilists, they're any Jane's delight
Know your onions, mind your potatoes
These palookas will make off with your tastiest tomatoes
Chatter boxin' like daddy-os, they're hip to the jive
Daffy daisies shutterbug, floor flushers come alive
Lyrics lubricate the lookers while the brass band squeals
Turning blue-nosed babies into randy roundheels
Add some Hip and some Lindy to that Indian hop
Foxtrottin’ with the shebas as the chorus dew-drop

Drink some hooch, blow some gage
Death Star’s ducky in any age
Bull you no lines, we’re no flat tires
Nothin’ but the bee’s knees with these two live wires
Don’t need giggle-water to get your wiggle on
Dancin’ to these dew-droppers ‘til you’re gone, daddy, gone
Bump that Victrola on the ones and twos
Find a skirt that skates around and you’ll be pitching woo


Everything's Jake when the Death Star's in the heezy
Turns a rundown shack into a speakeasy
Love a choice bit of calico, here little kitten
We've got the scratch, but don't consider us smitten
Heavy on the sugar, hop in my breezer
Hopped up, keep copasetic, cool as a freezer
We're the boss, applesauce, and we hit on all sixes
Two drugstore cowboys droppin' all the hottest mixes
On the level, on the up and up, piffle ain't our bag
Doll-up for the town with our best glad-rags
Dolin' out the bones and berries, yeah we're shellin' out the clams
Plenty for the gold diggers with the coo-coo gams
We don't need choppers, no need to bump off hoods
We're puttin' on the Ritz and you know we've got the goods
We're the cat's meow put your money on the fastest horse
Now you're on the trolley, sing along with the chorus

Drink some hooch, blow some gage
Death Star’s ducky in any age
Bull you no lines, we’re no flat tires
Nothin’ but the bee’s knees with these two live wires
Don’t need giggle-water to get your wiggle on
Dancin’ to these dew-droppers ‘til you’re gone, daddy, gone
Bump that Victrola on the ones and twos
Find a skirt that skates around and you’ll be pitching woo


Eel juice after the set had us more than spifflicated
Left the joint with several janes who were quite infatuated
Woke hung over in our beds with our pockets full of dough
And the memory of Death Star rollin’ twenties at the show

Death Star Bay-beeeee