Design for Leaving 1954

An energetic Daffy Duck from the Acme Future-Antic Push-Button Home of Tomorrow Household Appliance Company, Inc. bursts onto the scene to offer a free trial of the latest smart gadgets. He heads straight for the home of Elmer Fudd, promising convenience and a taste of tomorrow, while a promise of ease quickly spirals into comic chaos. The salesman’s flashy charm and persistence push the idea that every corner of a house can be optimized, and Elmer, curious but wary, is drawn into this spectacle.

Without waiting for a reply, Daffy coerces the situation into an improvised demonstration, and the plot takes a sudden turn when he secures a bus ticket to Duluth, Minnesota for himself—against his will—leaving his audience momentarily unattended. In his absence, Acme employees descend on Elmer’s residence and begin a wild remodeling spree. The once familiar home is transformed into a labyrinth of malfunctioning gadgets, some gleaming with futuristic promise, others jarringly outdated. The effect is both dizzying and funny: walls shift, devices whirr to life on their own, and a sense of order dissolves into a carnival of mechanical mayhem.

As the new appliances take over, Daffy invites Elmer to try a few buttons for himself. A lone red button gleams in stark contrast to the other white switches, and the salesman warns that this particular button is “very specific.” Undeterred, Elmer watches as an absurd cascade of demonstrations unfolds. Wallpaper peels itself away, windows crumble into brick-like shutters, and a robotic fireman roars into action whenever anything—be it a lit cigarette or even Elmer’s own heated temper—reaches a high temperature. The chaos grows into a slapstick symphony of malfunction: a garbage disposal that somehow swallows everything—yes, even a pig—echoes the absurd scale of the Acme experiment.

The situation crescendos as Elmer’s patience wears thin. In a moment of resolve, he purchases a machine designed to remove Daffy from his property, effectively ejecting the unrelenting salesman from his home. The scene moves from farce to a small triumph for Elmer, who, for a fleeting moment, believes he has regained control after the relentless onslaught of gadgets. But this is only a setup for the larger joke at the heart of the tale: curiosity, consequences, and a rival salesman’s persistence.

In a twist of fate, Elmer cannot resist testing the red button’s reputed purpose. The mechanism, it turns out, is labeled for use “in case of tidal wave,” and activating it launches Elmer’s house into the air. The structure ascends, gliding above the neighborhood with a bizarre grace, turning the suburban scene into a surreal stage for the next round of hijinks. From above, Daffy—now clearly the loser of this vendetta—streaks by in a helicopter, hawking a new pitch: for a small price he will install a blue button that supposedly brings you down. The chase above the town becomes a nod to the stubbornness and wacky resilience that define these cartoon clashes, leaving the audience with a final image of a home lifted from its foundation and a rival salesman offering a ceiling-ground alternative.

What follows is as much a satire of consumer culture as it is a showcase of physical comedy. The premise—an overhyped promise of convenience delivered with a absurdly complicated gadgetry—serves as a playground for exaggerated reactions, rapid-fire gags, and visual gags that land with the precision of a well-timed punchline. The characters navigate a world where automation promises ease but delivers chaos, and where a single red button can tilt a life, if only for a moment, toward spectacle.

Overall, the short remains a brisk, energetic jaunt through a future powered by buttons, bluster, and bravado. It pokes fun at the idea that technology can solve every problem while delivering a steady stream of visual humor and rapid-fire antics. The outcome—an airborne home, a cunning salesman on the loose, and a lingering wink at the price of convenience—captures the playful spirit of the era and leaves a memorable reminder that not every button should be pushed, even in a world where “tomorrow” is always just a button away.