The Greatest American Hero “The Hit Car” (part 4 of 9)

Bill now launches into a big, hairy, five-minute info-dump about how he’s been trying to nail Johnny the Dancer—whose other nickname is “the Disco Prince” [!!]—on dope-smuggling charges for 15 years, ludicrously claiming to have spent nights and weekends in the FBI library poring over documents and testimony to find some angle against him. Uh huh. Although, given Bill’s track record as an FBI agent as established later in the series, I’d say solving a case once every 15 years sounds about right.

Fortunately, the mob moll we met earlier, Brainless McWhorebody, has suddenly agreed to testify; Bill just has to get her safely from San Francisco to the grand jury in Los Angeles. With one attempted hit already, Bill needs Ralph and the suit to ensure the blonde’s safety.

Caption contributed by Mark

“Johnny the Dancer was the first time I missed a collar since the Mr. Bojangles prostitution ring back in ‘71.”

Ralph caves, of course, submissively agreeing to ditch his students, his son, and his girlfriend in order to help Bill supervise the transportation of a harlot. Even better, on his way out, Ralph cravenly drops the entire play on Pam, telling her to set up rehearsals and send out the invites to the parents. Now, if I were Pam, I would grab Ralph by his stupid sock tie and say, “Look, buster, I am a lawyer. Law. Yer. Six letters, no free time. Got it?”

But Pam, being a girl, is only concerned about this newly identified threat to their relationship. And so she chooses to taunt Ralph about how beautiful Bimbo McDeepbreaths is. (She’s famous enough for Pam to have seen her in People magazine, which has evidently acquired a Showgirls & Strippers department since the last time I looked at it.) Ralph is forced to stammer out the compulsory “if you like that sort of thing” before Bill literally yoinks him out of the scene.

Oh, and back when he barged into the auditorium, Bill warned Tony the Hoodlum not to steal his hubcaps. Meaning this series is really set in the ‘40s, not the ‘80s. But now we get the payoff: Tony removed Bill’s hubcaps, but left them stacked neatly in the front seat. That’s hoodlumese for “zing!

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Mark "Scooter" Wilson

Mark is a history guy, a graphics guy, a guy for whom wryly cynical assessments of popular culture are the scallion cream cheese on the toasted everything bagel of life. He spends his time teaching modern history at Brooklyn College, pondering the ancient Romans at the CUNY Graduate Center, and conjuring maps and illustrations for ungrateful bankers at various Manhattan monoliths. Readers are welcome to guess at reasons why he's nicknamed Scooter, with the proviso that all such submissions are guaranteed to be rather more interesting than the truth. Mark lives in the Midwood section of Brooklyn with a happy-go-lucky, flop-eared dog named Chiyo who is probably, at this very moment, waiting patiently for her walkies.

Multi-Part Article: The Greatest American Hero "The Hit Car"

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