- Messages
- 17,175
- Location
- New York City
"Cigarette?" offers Inky Quinlan, extending a monogrammed silver case. "No thank yee," frowns Uncle Frank. "Ye bought thoose, as Oi recall, from me. In any event," he continues, leaning back in his swivel chair, "Oi've gaaaht an assoinment farr yee." "Ah," nods Inky, his immaculate moustache twitching with anticipation. "Oi need," sighs Uncle Frank, "a lettar." "Ahhhh," nods Inky. "A billet-doux, as they say. Perhaps in a light, feminine hand with a dash of, ohh, Nuit de Noel? And who, might I inquire, is to be the -- ahh -- unfortunate recipient?" "Can that Charrles Boyer stoof," frowns Uncle Frank, his face growing sour. "Oi'll coom straight to th' point. Oi need a lettar attestin' to me straang maaaral chaactarr." "Oh my," chuckles Inky, his cigarette nearly falling from his hand. "And, ah -- what, may I inquire," he stammers, "is to be the -- ah -- purpose of this -- ah.." "Nevaaar ye moind that. Ye can make it oot to 'to whom it may consaaarn,'" Uncle Frank growls. "Oi need it to be impressive, and aaaahn whatchecaaahl impressive stationery." "Well, I have my sample case with me here," nods Inky, ever-ready to accomodate a client. "Here are some samples. Perhaps you..." "Th' White Hoose?" reads Uncle Frank, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Don'chee think thaaat's a bit mooch?" "Ah," nods Inky. "As you wish. But I do sign a very convincing Mr. Roosevelt." "Office of the Governor," reads Uncle Frank, examining the next sheet. "I pride myself, you see," declares Inky, flashing a Pepsodent smile, "on being strictly non-partisan in these matters." "Oi doon't think so," shrugs Uncle Frank, dropping the sheet to the back of the stack. "Sally would kill me if she foond out. What else ye gaaaht here? 'City of New Yaaark, Office of the Mayor.' "That one's very popular," injects Inky. "Look behind the bar at the Old Reliable Tavern, you'll see an oustanding sample." Uncle Frank merely scowls and glances at the next sheets. "Office of the Borough President of Brooklyn." He pauses for a moment, shakes his head, and moves on. "Bronx County Democratic Committee, Edward J. Flynn, chairman." "Oh," interrupts Inky. "I -- ah -- have discontinued that particular... ah ..." Uncle Frank shakes his head and continues. "'Brooklyn National League Baseball Club, Inc.'," he reads. "'Branch Rickey, President.' Ye caaan't be serious." Inky merely shrugs. "I am," he acknowledged, "somewhat overstocked on that particular item, and am offering a 20 percent discount." "No, no, no!" rumbles Uncle Frank. "I need soomthin' coonvincin' but not ridiculous! What's this one." He adjusts his glasses for a better view. "F. Leary an' Soons Ploombin' an' Heatin'!??'" "AH," gasps Inky, snatching the sheet away. "I have no idea how that got in there..."
This entire exchange is freakin' hilarious. Kudos, Lizzie.
This line: "A billet-doux, as they say. Perhaps in a light, feminine hand with a dash of, ohh, Nuit de Noel? And who, might I inquire, is to be the -- ahh -- unfortunate recipient?" is particularly funny. Inky is quite the piece of work.
He's been a great addition to the crew.
****************************************************************
"Girl Marines on Desert Isle"
Let's check back on this story in about nine months.
This entire exchange is freakin' hilarious. Kudos, Lizzie.
This line: "A billet-doux, as they say. Perhaps in a light, feminine hand with a dash of, ohh, Nuit de Noel? And who, might I inquire, is to be the -- ahh -- unfortunate recipient?" is particularly funny. Inky is quite the piece of work.
He's been a great addition to the crew.
****************************************************************
"Girl Marines on Desert Isle"
Let's check back on this story in about nine months.