The Megaphone (Georgetown, Tex.), Vol. 66, No. 6, Ed. 1 Friday, October 13, 1972 Page: 3 of 12
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THE MEGAPHONE
Friday, October 13, 1972
Page 3
The Amazing Adventures of Mood Man
MOOD MAN MEETS ADMISSIONS MAN AND BOY WONDER
- <
t
(NOTE: Due to the considerable
curiousity concerning the identity of
Frank the Wonder Cat, this authoritative
author will make an exception to his policy
of not disclosing the true identities of his
fantasized characters. Frank the Wonder
Cat’s true iddhtity is. . .are you ready for
this?. . .Frank. Frank is an 8 1/ 2 year old
tom cat, black with white markings,
belonging to Hawk Louis. Frank is
presently residing in the Louis dwelling in
Dallas. All fan mail for Frank the Wonder
Cat, or just plain Frank, should be sent to:
v« rank the Wonder Cat, c / o Hawk Louis,
Box 48, Campus Mail. Frank will be
available for guest appearances next
spring. If your club or organization would
like to have Frank come as a guest lec-
turer, please write his business manager
at the above address.)
LAST WEEK: Mood Man and Frank the
Wonder Cat encountered the Dean Team in,
the Administration Building. Mood Man
was able to convince the Dean Team
leader, Dean Swiftmind, that the com-
puterized surveillance system in use was
not necessary for the control of drugs, sex,
alcohol, fireworks and various other vices
common to the Southwestern campus.
While Frank the Wonder Cat remained
stoned on catnip, Mood Man narrowly
avoided an encounter with Dean “Flash”
Gordon. Making note of the Dean
Supreme’s unusual proficiency in ancient
languages, Mood Man scooped up the
flipped-out feline and left in search of new
Ad Building adventures.
This Week’s Story
It was a mild and mellow afternoon.
Mood Man and Frank the Wonder Cat were
scrounging the halls of the Ad Building in
search of new adventures. Mood Man felt
that his encounter with the Dean Team
hadn’t been particularly inspiring. He
began to think he might have chosen the
wrong place—or the wrong time—to tackle
the shady characters and impertinent
policies of Southwestern. **
“Frank,” Mood Man began, “I think we
might have chosen the wrong time or place
to tackle the shady characters and im-
pertinent policies of Southwestern. Things
have been dull since our arrival in this
building. Perhaps we ought to move on,
and come back some other day. What do
you think?”
“Meow, meow,” Frank replied, in-
decisively. Frank the Wonder Cat wasn’t
one given to verbosity. However, he wasn't
too sure that the Ad Building didn’t have
something special to offer in the way of
unique personalities. “Meow, meow,
meow,” Frank stated, more positively.
“You think we should give this place
another chance, huh?” queried the Man
from Mood. “Okay Frank, I’ll play this one
according to your instincts.” Mood Man
turned at the sound of footsteps and voices
approaching. “Well, well, well,” said
Mood Man. “Methinks you were right after
all, Frank. We’ve got company, and it
looks as if we’re definitely needed here.”
A ghoulish grin frisked across the
feline’s^face. “Meow,” the Wonder Cat
replied, agreeing. This indeed looked
promising.
The agreeable prospect was a sharply
dressed, white-haired man with a used car
dealer’s winning smile. He was talking and
laughing with a trio that appeared to be a
lather, mother and young girl. The smiling
man was engaged in his sales pitch: “Yes
sir and ma’am, send your delicate
daughter to this incomparable institution,
and we promise you that she will not only
receive a fine liberal arts education, but
more importantly, her virtue will be
preserved. We offer all this—and
more—for an unspecified sum which is
payable on the convenient monthly in-
stallment plan. Of course there may be a
slight increase in costs from year to
year—but isn’t your child’s chastity worth
more to you than money?” The gray-
haired fellow paused to let his words sink
in.%ie young girl looked very distressed.
‘Daddy, daddy,” the charming child
_.Jan7
want a man, daddy. I want to go to UT and
Fantasy by Hawk Louis
brains. Get an education; a man respects a
woman with brains. Isn’t that right,
Clarabelle?” p.
“Whatever you say, dear,” the mother
answered. She was quite aware of the fact
that her daughter didn’t want to be
respected for her ’brains—her body,
maybe, but not her brains.
“Well, it’s all settled then,” the smiling
salesman said, interrupting. “If you’ll just
sign here, sir, at the bottom of this ad-
missions contract—no need to read it, sir,
it just says that you’ll keep those coins
coming in—your dimpled daughter will be
a full-fledged female member of this
university. Did I tell you that it’s the oldest
university in Texas?”
“Only a dozen times,” muttered the
morose maiden. She raised her dejected
eyes. She blinked several times at the sight
that greeted her gaze. Before her $tood a
muscular male in gold tights and black
underwear. Beside him sat a colorful cat
with a gold scarf tied around his neck like
a cape. “Who are you?” questioned the
dainty damsel. He’s kind of cute in those
tights, she thought.
“Who’s who?” asked the smug, smiling
salesman. He looked up from the signed
contract and saw the party in question.
The father and mother peered at the
golden-garbed guy andcaped cat. “Gasp,”
they gasped.
“l am Mood Man and he is Frank the
Wonder Cat,” said Mood Man as a means
of introduction. “We are the newly self-
appointed saviours of Southwestern, and
young lady, it sounds as though you need
saving.” Mood Man liked the looks of this
assignment more all the time, so to speak.
Definitely worth saving, Mood Man
thought.
“My hero,” said the girl, galloping into
Mood Man’s arms. “Will you save me?”
asked the maiden, fluttering her eyelashes
and breathing heavy-. Got a man my first
day here, she said to herself.
“Of course, my dear,” said Mood Man,
disentangling the darling damsel. Give a
girl a free hand, Mood Man thought, and
she’ll try to put it all over you. Not that he
objected, of course. “And just who are you,
smiling salesperson?” Mood Man askecl of
the dapper gray-haired gentleman.
“Methinks I’d like to get to know you a
little better.”
“Why, I’m Admissions Man,” the smiler
answered, still smiling. “Mood Man,
huh? That’ll make a great sales pitch
when I make my next sweep through the
high schools. How does this sound? ‘Come
to Southwestern University, the oldest
university in Texas and the only church-
related institution to have its own super
hero!’ Pretty catchy, don’t you think?”
“No, Admissions Man, I don’t. I won’t
have my name or reputation used to lure
prospective students to this institution of
higher learning—not to mention high
morality.” Mood Man looked to his trusty
sidekick: “Frank, what do you think we
ought to do about Admissions Man?”
The terrific tom cat didn’t waste time on
words; he showed the Man from Mood
what he thought should be done. With a
mighty leap, he grabbed the admissions
contract from Admissions Man’s clutching
hands and proceeded to tear it to shreds.
He looked up at the anguished Admissions
Man and gave a loud “Meow” of
satisfaction.
“Well done, trusty sidekick,” Mood Man
said, chuckling. “There now, fair fraulein,
your troubles are over. You are free to go
to school wherever you choose. Isn’t that
right, Mr. and Mrs. Average-Type
Parent?”
Mr. Average-Type Parent started to
protest, but a quick glance at the curved
claws of Frank the Wonder Cat quieted
him. “You can go wherever you want to,
daughter,” he replied. “Isn’t that right,
Clarabelle?”
“Whatever you say, Irving,” Mrs.
Average-Type Parent said. She didn’t
really care; as long as her daughter got
married and didn’t live at home next
she’ll be happy. But more importantly, I’ll
reach my quota of new students for the
first time in years. After all, it’s quantity,
not quality that we’re interested in at this
school. ’ ’
“That’s a terrible attitude. Admissions
Man,” interrupted Mood Man. “Non Quis
Sed Quid is what this school goes by—not
who but what. It doesn’t matter if you’re a
Rothschild, Rockefeller, Carnegie or
Tower—the important thing is what you
are on the inside. That’s what makes the
difference, man.”
“My hero,” muttered the aforemen-
tioned maiden. She was beginning to
wonder if the black underwear he wore
wasn’t a bit much. u
“We’ll see about this,” Admissions Man
mumbled, smiling still. He trotted off in
the direction of the flashing neon sign
advertising “Boy Wonder’s Playground.”
“Why don’t you take your daughter
home berore she makes a hasty decision
concerning enrolling here. I’m reasonably
sure she can make a rational decision,”
Mood Man said, speaking to Mr. and Mrs.
Average-Type Parent.
“What a man,” the gushy girl gasped.
Mood Man was having second thoughts
on this girl’s powers of rational thought.
With an attitude like the one she was
displaying, she really might fit in at old
S.U. Still, Mood Man pondered, there
might be hope for her yet in the real world.
“There he is,” a voice roared. It was
Admissions Man, smiling sweetly. “He’s
been talking those average-type parents
out of sending their daughter to school
here, and that flea-bitten feline tore up the
admissions contract.” Admissions Man
was talking to a roundish, pudgy little man
with a Prince Valiant haircut. He looked a
little young to be doing whatever he was
doing. Dressed in the height of fashion, his
clothes looked too large. Perhaps he hadn’t
grown into them yet.
This latter fact seemed very likely to
Mood Man, who noticed that the sports
jafcket bore the title “Creator of the
University Image.” Such a burden—or
bolt of cloth—belonged on broader
shoulders, Mood Man thought. “What have
we here?” Mood Man asked. “Seems to be
a self-made man who used the wrong
pieces.”
“I’m the Boy Wonder,” the diminutive
figure said “I’ve written over 3,000
published articles, have my doctorate and
soon hope to raise millions of dollars for
the university—and my image.”
“I’m impressed, Boy Wonder. Ad-
missions Man certainly has found a worthy
adversary for me,” Mood Man said. “Just
what is your function here?”
“Obviously you’re new here. I’m known
far and wide as the creator of the
university’s image. What you see around
you today is the result of my work. I’ve
made this university a household name
throughout the land—everyone’s dying to
give money for new buildings, air con-
ditioners and endowed chairs. In ten years
this university will be the proud owner of
no more than*five new buildings.”
“Great,” said Mood Man, “but what
about the educational changes over those
ten years? Shouldn’t professors’ salaries
be raised, new courses financed, new
departments created? Shouldn’t South-
western students have more educational
and socially relevant experiences offered
to them instead of air conditioned
buildings? Can’t you raise some money for
speakers, field trips, student scholarships
for study abroad?”
“You apparently don’t understand the
intricacies of creating a university
image,” the Boy Wonder replied. “As I
once said in an article published in the
Journal of Boy Wonders, ‘students are
important to the university insofar as they
help stimulate the money-giving urges of
large foundations.’ I’m all for student
rights and responsibility, especially when
it helps create a clean, moralistic
university image. The image is
everything. That’s the title of a speech I
once delivered to the American Fund-
Playground. “I’d be very interested in
reading a copy of the speech, Mr. Won
der,” Mood Man replied courteously.
“That’s Dr. Wonder—but my friends call
me Boy,” Boy Wonder said. “Why don’t
you step into my playground, Mood Man,
and we’ll discuss this problem you’ve
caused Admissions Man a ^ittie further I
really do hate to talk to people outside my
office; besides, it’s a very stimulating
atmosphere.”
Mood Man, accompanied by Frank the
Wonder Cat, soon found out how
“stimulating” the Boy Wonder’s
playground was. The walls were covered
with pictures of the smiling Boy Wonder.
Stacks of papers on the bookshelves turned
out to be articles the Boy Wonder had
published. “Quite a place you have here,
Dr. Wonder,” Mood Man said, in-
credulously. “You certainly do project an
image —sort of a cross between an ostrich
and a peacock
“How’s that?” questioned the Boy
Wonder
“Well, Dr. Wonder, or Boy, as you
prefer,” Mood Man began, “1 seem to
detect that you bury your head in the sand,
so to speak, as far as this campus com
munity’s needs are concerned, but at the
same time, you evidently enjoy the
colorful image you ’ve created for yourself
Methinks you might do better to pull your
head out and deflate your ego a trifle.”
“How dare you talk to me in such a
disrespectful manner!” the Boy Wonder
squeeked. His voice, like his frame,
seemed underdeveloped. “I am the
greatest! I have done more for this
university than any ten professors com-
bined! I’ve written more articles, created
more images, raised more millions than
anyone in the history of this university!
And I’m not going to stop there! Soon the
day will come when my staff will crown
me king of the university, and then
everyone will have to co-ordinate their
activities under the auspices of my image!
Students will come by to talk with me
and read my articles, professors will ask
me to lecture in their classes and I will
be loved by all!” At this height of ora-
tory, the Boy Wonder’s voice broke,
and he fell into a temper tantrum.
Waving his arms and kicking the walls,
the Boy Wonder succeeded in shaking
loose the pictures of himself from
the walls; they broke in splintered
slivers around him. Angered by
this occurrence, the Boy Wonder
screamed and kicked even more, causing
the bookshelves full of his articles to
collapse, burying him in a mountain of
paper. Only then was the Boy Wonder
silent.
“What a way to go,” Mood Man said'to
Frank the Wonder Cat. “Buried under his
own articles. But what’s this?” The Man
from Mood picked up a paper that topped
the pile. It was a blank page, except for the
title announcing: “The Exciting Image of
the Boy Wonder.” Mood Man shook his
head, thinking that the boyish man un-
derneath the mountain of paper had
written at least one article worth reading.
“I think I’ll keep this one,” he said.
» Leaving the Boy Wonder’s pummelled
playground, Mood Man returned to the hall
of the Ad Building. Admissions Man looked
dejected at the sight of the duo—however,
he managed a smile. “Mood Man, Boy
Wonder was going to create a new image
for me. Did he say anything to you about it
before you left?” asked Admissions Man.
Man.
“He certainly did,” responded Mood
Man. “He asked me to give you this.”
Mood Man handed the blank paper to
Admissions Man. “He said you’d know
what to do.”
“Thanks, Mood Man,” replied the
puzzled Admissions Man. “I’ll see if this
won’t help me recruit more and better
students.” Admissions Man walked on
down the hall, smiling his unbeatable
smile.
Mood Man looked at Frank the Wonder
Cat. “Far out,” he said.
‘Meow,” Frank replied, affirmatively.
“It’s not okay with me,” Admissions
Man- snarled, though still smiling. “This
Raising and Image Creating Society on
June 11, J963. I have a copy of it in my
“Shut up, kid,” replied her father,
sternly. “Your mother and I have decided
that your body isn’t as important as your
girl’s Southwestern material and she’ll
stay here. She can live with four other girls
in a two-girl room in the dormitory, and
playground if you want it?
Mood Man found himself overcome by
the desire to see the Boy Wonder’s
NEXT WEEK:
MOOD MAN GOES
TO THE DAIRY QUEEN
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The Megaphone (Georgetown, Tex.), Vol. 66, No. 6, Ed. 1 Friday, October 13, 1972, newspaper, October 13, 1972; Georgetown, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth634020/m1/3/: accessed July 17, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Southwestern University.