Judas: And I would’ve gotten away with it, too, if it weren’t for you nosy kids and your darn Messiah!
To be precise, she’s helping Thelma “look for her glasses.”
If you know what I mean.
Actually, the giant inflatable rat has potential. Think about it, Eve! Depending on its height relative to Scooby Doo’s, you might be able to set it up in a rather, shall we say, “interesting” position. The rest I leave to your imagination.
CJ
(Hang it, where’s an evil smiley when I want one?)
Not that much time, then. A sighted person certainly could have a malicious motive in putting something ugly on his roof that the neighbors have o look at, but he doesn’t. That was my only point.
Eve, I am afraid you would expire within minutes of coming across the city line into Dundalk. Not only does the neighbourhood around us have such monstrosities, but lights and glowing pumpkins and black and orange garlands galore.
One house has 14 of such inflatable thingies. Two archways and assorted jack-o-lanterns, ghosties and ghoulies. FOURTEEN. And you know how small the yards are in Dundawk, hon.
Wait, is this the one with Brandi Sue Condileeza?
Jeepers!!!
These giant inflatable eyesores deserve vandalism all across the country. They’re foul and deplorable.
If you don’t feel comfortable sending Inflat-O-Scooby to his ultimate reward on your own, Eve, why not quietly hire someone to do it for you? A few strategically placed cuts will prevent Inflat-O-Scooby from inflating any longer, or, someone could simply cut the power cord (after it’s unplugged) on the fan motor. Have it done during the day when you’re across the river in the city. Shouldn’t cost more than $20, if you know someone whose sense of mischief is stronger than their thirst for cash or their sense of personal property. 
You have a drug addict and a physically abusive ex-con in your building and Scooby bothers you?!
Daphne: “Permission to lick your Mary Janes, Velma?”
I’m not sure I’m comfortable with the direction this thread is taking… 
I’d do the dirty work for you, Eve, if I wasn’t several thousand miles away.
Poetic justice, it’d be.
Cheers,
Daphne
Now I’m picturing a Strangers on a (Commuter) Train scenario. I find someone from another town on my train, and I’ll agree to stab his neighbor’s giant inflatable witch if he takes care of Scooby-Do. Or Double Indemnity . . . I could get Fred MacMurray to throw Scooby onto the NJ Transit train tracks . . .
By the way, Scoob is now inflated, and it turns out he is the small, “tasteful” 3-foot-tall version rather than the monstrous 8-foot-tall one. Just the right size for drop-kicking . . .
Post notices offering a reward for the return of it. Someone’s bound to steal it to try to claim the reward.
Paint a large penis on it, and then call the authorities to complain.
Steal one off of another lawn, and then report your neighbours to the police.
I can hear the Kallikacks screaming at each other two floors down. He seems to be getting the better of it, though she’s doing a lot of high-calibre whimpering. I wonder if he’ll wind up beating her to death, or she’ll shoot him in his sleep? I just hope they don’t torch the house to cover the evidence. Ye gods and little fishes! Why do people stay together if they hate each other so much? They’re not even married!
Inflatible Scooby may be the only survivor.
Aw, c’mon, Daphne, you know you wanna…
I am quite confident that I don’t. Thank you very much. Humph.
I find a stiletto to the nether regions is undetectable.
:eek: :eek:
“If the neighbors get a court order against your Christmas light display, you might be a redneck!” – Jeff Foxworthy
I have a question. Why are these two trying to attract trick-or-treaters?
Puncture the Scooby late one night and leave them a reimbursement with a poem
I shived the Scooby on the lawn
By the light of the moon
Because it was there!
Because it was there!
Inanimate, obnoxious, monstrous
I couldn’t let it remain
A beacon to gaudiness
So it died it sooth my senses
I caused you loss, no argument
Pangs of penitence
Must be reckoned
I’ll not be guilty without
Honorable restitution to cleanse
The deeds of my own doing
Forgiven, your aesthetical transgression
On grounds it never returns
Scooby will die a thousands deaths
If his shadows befalls this land again
But where lightening strikes twice
Guilt does not
I know what you mean.