BISMARCK, North Dakota – An article in today’s Calgary Herald-Fabricator newspaper revealed that Popeye the Sailor is the new owner of the Cole Oyl Exploration Company in Freesyerbalzoff, North Dakota. It had been assumed that the founder’s daughter, Olive Oyl, inherited the privately held company from her recently deceased father. Her brother Castor Oyl passed away some years before, leaving her as the sole living descendent. Previously sealed court documents show that Mr. Oyl considered his daughter to be a complete moron, incapable of making up her mind about anything.
Miss Oyl would not respond to inquiries, but her representative, J. Wellington Wimpy, said that he would answer questions on her behalf for a fee of 10 hamburgers per question. After a long afternoon at Tim Horton’s, Mr. Wimpy stated that Mr. Oyl lost the company to Popeye in a poker game, but was ashamed to admit it to his family. Popeye found the Oyl business to be disgustipatin’ and revoltilatin’ so he kept Mr. Oyl on as CEO to run the business.
When contacted at his home port, Sweet Haven, he answered the phone by saying, “I’m Popeye the Sailor Man. I’m Popeye the Sailor Man. I’m strong to the finich ‘cause I eats me spinach. I’m Popeye the Sailor Man.” Cole Oyl Exploration is putting together a lease block on a new play in the Swee’pea Field area and Popeye explained the difficulty his company is having with its landmen. “I’m one tough gazookus which hates all palookas wot ain’t on the up and square. I biffs ‘em and buffs ‘em and always out roughs ‘em. But none of ‘em gets nowhere.” And what about the company geologists and engineers? “If anyone dares to risk my fisk, it’s boff an’ it’s wham, un’erstan’? So keep good behavior is your one life saver with Popeye the Sailor Man.” No one understood what the hell he was talking about.
SeaHag Production, Inc. is Oyl’s major competitor in the Swee’pea Field. Company president Bluto Blutarsky commented, “I was going to marry Olive, get her to sign over the Cole Oyl Company and then dump her scrawny ass. God, that voice of hers is like fingernails on a chalkboard. This revelation changes everything. As for Popeye, that runt can’t punch his way out of a paper bag, no matter how much spinach he chokes down.”
Popeye had the last word. He responded, “Bluto said that? Well blow me…down!”
