The Era -- Day By Day

[LizzieMaine]

("Ye knoo," observes Uncle Frank, casting his eyes around the upholstered dining room of the Tuckahoe Country Club, "if ye tuck a napkin intee yaar shaaart, ye should let it hang free doon th' froont. It woon't catch mooch soup if ye tuck doon insoide in that way." "Don' be vulgeh, Pop," snorts Jimmy Leary. "T'is is whatca cawl a ascot. It's whatcha weah when ya playin' gawlf." "Since whin d' YOU," scoffs Uncle Frank, "play gaaaaalf?" "Since Isabel tol' me I needed a hobby OUTA t' house," shrugs Jimmy. "I'm pretty good at it. I got a hunnet'n t'oity yestehday, an'na pro says if I keep up playin' like I'm playin' I might make two hunne't!" "Oi'm happy farr ye," eyerolls Uncle Frank. "Anyhoo, yarr -- ah -- woife," he sighs, "is th' reason Oi coom up here. Oi need ye t' ask harr t' do me a favarr. Now, Oi've knoon Izzie a laaaaang toime, an' woon thing Oi knoo aboot'arr is that she knooos how t' get things. Now, ye look loike ye ain't been missin' noo meals -- ye gettin' plenny a' meat in ye doiet, an' Izzie's th' woon that's gett'n it. An' Oi waaant YOU t'get haar t'get some meat farrr Joe." "Oh," ohs Jimmy. "He still try'na sell'em hamboigehs? I hoid'ee bought a racetrack." "Noo, noo," headshakes Uncle Frank. "He caaan't get noo meat, an' things is gett'n desp'rate. An' Oi need YOU t'get Izzie t' pool some strings with wharivvar she's gettn' HARR meat an' send soom down t' Joe." "Waitaminute, Pop," frowns Jimmy. "T'at rat Pincus ain' mixed up innis, is'ee? Because if..." "No, no," hastens Uncle Frank. "Solly ain't in th' pitcharr. This is farr Joe. Yaaar broother in laaaarrr, an' th' laaaang sooferin' hoosband a' yarr stipsistarr." "Hmmm," hmms Jimmy. "I guess I c'n see what I c'n do." "An' lissen," warns Uncle Frank. "Don't let aaahn that Oi'm invalllved. She moit - ah - remimbarr a few things Oi -- ah -- once said...")

("Hey!" yelps Joe, watching a car pull out of the lot "Din'at guy awrdeh anyt'ing?." "He din' give no awrdeh," sniffs Miss Kaplan. "I tol'im t'eh wasn' no meat an'ee said ' tough luck toots," an' drove awff. Soives 'im right f'bein' a fathead." "I tol'ya," insists Joe. "Y'gotta SELL'em. Y'gotta tell'm 'bout Big Joe's Chickwich an' -- ahh -- Cap'n Joe's Fishwich!" "Yawr a CAP'N?" gushes Miss Kaplan. "When'dAT happ'n?" "You tawk to 'eh," sighs Joe. "Ahhh," exhales Shirley...)

(Um, shouldn't there be a -- um -- joke here?)

( "Yarr futcharr," frowns Ma, "will catch oop with ye soonar thin ye think!" "Ehh," ehhs Bink. "Hey, we got any'a t'at cherry flaveh?" "Nooo," glares Ma. "We do NOT." "Oh," shrugs Bink, followed by a sharp popping sound and a loud tinking sound as something ricochets off the mirror behind the counter. "Hmm," hms Bink. "Oi'll show ye," growls Ma, "how t'sew aaaahn a button...")

(Musial should take some time off to recover. Ten games would be about right.)

(If you're going to stick with this racket, you've got to work on your pre-bout interiews...)

(Schlemiel? I should say not. Much more of a schmendrick.)

(Good thing somebody around here remembers how to be a reporter...)

(Plus she really took care of that sticky damper...)

(Actually, Trix should fit right in with these two...)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

Hey Sari, maybe you need a zippier name.

Jersey beefsteak...

At least let the monkey help.

Um.

Ma gets tired of this afterschool crowd. They never bet.

Would you prefer a tin cup?

That's mean, he hasn't been in a bar since he was in Morocco.

I always enjoy when Mr. Ferret shows up, he's so patient and polite.

Of all the people to quote LaGuardia...

Good luck getting it back in the keg...

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Worker...

The Bum Of The Month Club is now in session.

 

[Fading Fast]

"Don't let aaahn that Oi'm invalllved. She moit - ah - remimbarr a few things Oi -- ah -- once said..."

Of course.

Oh, and this: "T'at rat Pincus ain' mixed up innis, is'ee? Because if..."

Frank and his immediate blood family is inverted: everything it thinks is the opposite of what is true.

********************************************************

Cap'n Joe's Fishwich!" "Yawr a CAP'N?" gushes Miss Kaplan. "When'dAT happ'n?" "You tawk to 'eh," sighs Joe. "Ahhh," exhales Shirley...

My faith in Shirley is rewarded again.

********************************************************

"Yarr futcharr," frowns Ma, "will catch oop with ye soonar thin ye think!" "Ehh," ehhs Bink. "Hey, we got any'a t'at cherry flaveh?" "Nooo," glares Ma. "We do NOT." "Oh," shrugs Bink, followed by a sharp popping sound and a loud tinking sound as something ricochets off the mirror behind the counter. "Hmm," hms Bink. "Oi'll show ye," growls Ma, "how t'sew aaaahn a button..."

And it doesn't take years.

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Actually, Trix should fit right in with these two...

Oh God yeah, it's like he's found his people.

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"No Relation to the race horse."

Just perfect.

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Um.

"And if you call me 'stupid little man' just one more time, I'm going to leave you here to drown."

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The Bum Of The Month Club is now in session.

Over in the other article, shilling for the Soviet Union will not age well. Also, with today's DSA party all about Palestine, it's hard to remember when communism walked hand in hand with the Jewish people. It's only eighty years, not two centuries, but there you are.

 

[Harp]

Queens County judge Thomas Downs' jury nullification admonishment over the Rabidoux
verdict is refreshing. A judge can vacate a guilty ballot wherein grounds argue strongly for
innocence; however, the bench cannot reverse erroneous acquittal.

The Marine Corps decision to retire Pappy Boyington isn't surprising. One loose cannon pitched
across deck adrift turbulent seas needed rope or overboard cast.

Charlie should reconsider Cupid's extracted arrow. Adam & Eve on a raft merits coital checkmate.

Today's Jockey Club Gold Cup held Belmont is a fairly reasoned stakes, though having been
repeatedly singed recent barn burners, nagging doubts persist with Phineas Fogg and Baeza;
both, either, or neither fiery steeds capable igniting spontaneous combustion. Baeza is arguably
second best rail jail nailed hoss, last raced August; whereas Forever Young hasn't run since last March. And though he lost last out, beeswax hit a 109 Beyer. The Japanese trackside empiricals
fail speed register but youngster has breezed five, six, and seven New York furlongs.

I'll triple first then check down a superfecta-(Baeza, Phineas Fogg, Forever Young); (Phineas Fogg;
Baeza); Stars & Stripes. Scared money doesn't win but I hear track crows squawking like hell.
And I am absolutely covering my azz today.

Nota bene amici-Render Judgement scratched, consequently superfectas disallowed jockstrap.
Handle reasonably affected, I bet strictly Win/Place the triple and threw some dice on a Baeza **** shoot.

 

[LizzieMaine]

(The tink-tink-tink of Bink Scanlan's spoon against the little tin dish competes against the sound of "Young Widder Brown" squawking from the radio behind the counter, as the screen door of Lieb's Luncheonette skeens open. "Packa Camels," requests Solomon J. Pincus, as he saunters up. "Eighteen cent'," tosses Bink, flipping the pack across the counter without looking up. With a snort, Solly flips two dimes on the counter, and gives Bink a meaningful glance. Feeling seen, she looks up long enough to crank the register, deposit the coins, and flick two pennies across to her patient customer. "Ain' seenya in a while," converses Solly, stripping the cellophane tab from the pack and pulling open the foil to extract a smoke. "Awl good t'ings must end," mutters Bink, returning to her ice cream. Solly emits a bemused chuckle as he lights up. "Y'look diff'rent," he observes, the cigarette bouncing up and down ashe speaks. "You don't," scoffs Bink, as a large truck pulls up in front of the store. As Solly is considering his next riposte, the truck driver steps inside. "Gotta loada meat f' Joe Petrauskas," he announces, consulting his sheet. "Gonna need a hand bringin' it in." With a shrug, Solly abandons the conversation, and accompanies the driver outside. Bink plucks the cherry out of the residue in the bottom of her dish, flips it up with her spoon, and fails to catch it in her mouth. It bounces off her forehead, leaving a red syrup stain, as the door skeens again to admit an agitated Mr. Pincus. "Whe'z Heckie?" he demands. "Out'na back," shrugs Bink. "Playin'a machine." 'Go get 'im," demands Solly. "I need a hand. Y'know what's awnat truck? A WHOLE SIDE A' BEEF....!")

("Now, class.." begins Miss Kiefer. "Wait," she pauses, surveying the assembled pupils of Grade 1-A, Public School No. 48. Her eyes light on an empty seat in the third row. "Where's Leonora Petrauskas?" she queries. "Didn't she come back from the water fountain?" "Maybe she fell in," snickers a mocking voice from the back of the classrom. "She's gifted!" jeers a second voice, followed by a sharp ripple of laughter. "Silence!" commands Miss Kiefer, glaring at the hecklers. She again surveys the room, but the seat remains empty. "Remain in your seats," she directs, "and no talking." She places her chalk on the blackboard ledge, and steps out of the classroom, her pupils left to wonder....)

(On the eighth floor of the RCA Building, Studio 8G is a hive of activity, as the clock moves toward 8. "I'm tellin' ya, honey," oozes Mr. Mayehoff, "this television racket is all right, and so's radio. An' Broadway. An' even pictures. Butcha know where the real gravy is?" "Awn ya tie," replies Rosa, stabbing her pocket knife into perimeter the cardboard coffee can's viewing port. "That's what I like about'cha, hon," chuckles the comedian. "You've always got a snappy line! And that's why I think you'd knock'm dead in my nightclub act! This television thing's gonna blow over, but you can always land a spot in one of these bo ob-traps, an' the best part of it is, th' audiences are so liquored up they'll laugh at anything!" "An' yaw're right teh ready t' give it to 'em," snorts Bink, trying on the can for size....)

(Gotta keep up with that post-war inflation!)

(A six man rotation?? What the hell, Leo???)

(Shouldn't they have to wear numbers or something?)

(Look, toots, make up your mind. And brush those tomato seeds out of your hair.)

("I haven't had a love interest in years, you think I'm gonna give up that easy????")

(She's either planning to inflate a zeppelin or blow up the house. And I don't see any zeppelins.)

(Oh, THAT old racket!)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

"Yeh, bud, we c'n getcha an ORchard numbeh f' twenny bucks. CHelsea, atsa lit'l moeh, an' t'be hones', you ain't t' type. T'at's f'ya moeh awrty kinda guys. You, yawra MUrray Hill, 'm I right? Gray flannel an' two mawrtinis f' lunch. I c'n fix ya right up for fifty dollehs cash. RHinelandeh? YOU? G'wan, buddy, you ain't no RHinelandeh an' you KNOW it...."

The grandstand seats at Fenway Park are not only still narrow, but they're still exactly the same seats. And notice Mr. Powers has nothing to say about Ebbets Field and the Polo Grounds. He knows better than to offend those providing the free food and drink in the pressroom.

Look, just turn things over to the monkey and go back to bed.

KIDS TODAY.

First time for everything. And f'gawdsakes, Phyllis, what are you wearing at ten o'clock in the morning???

And not a drop to drink...

You gave yourself away -- everybody knows you read a Yiddish newspaper from right to left.

They never teach you about this in pharmacy school.

She's not wrong.

"Well you can't get the flour!"

 

[Fading Fast]

Y'know what's awnat truck? A WHOLE SIDE A' BEEF....!"

Exactly how big is that freezer on the roof?

********************************************************

"She's gifted!" jeers a second voice

That, to a T, is how kids sound mocking another kid.

*******************************************************

"Yeh, bud, we c'n getcha an ORchard numbeh f' twenny bucks. CHelsea, atsa lit'l moeh, an' t'be hones', you ain't t' type. T'at's f'ya moeh awrty kinda guys. You, yawra MUrray Hill, 'm I right? Gray flannel an' two mawrtinis f' lunch. I c'n fix ya right up for fifty dollehs cash. RHinelandeh? YOU? G'wan, buddy, you ain't no RHinelandeh an' you KNOW it...."

There are also reports that a factory out in Jersey has a higher level of absenteeism than most.

I get it's wrong, but it is also doing what a lot of black markets do – they let supply meet demand at a higher price. People would scream bl*ody murder if the phone company simply charged what the market right now would bear.

 

[Harp]

The Vegas war bride Bridget Waterstands murder story intrigued but gave insufficient detail
for rudimentary analysis.

Yesterday's Jockey Club Gold Cup after scratches ruined a loaded superfecta offered paired down win/place and a latrine dice roll for Baeza. Stubborn me.
And the wallets n' purses were out and about Belmont for big bucks bingo.

Today's Pennsylvania Derby is another millionaire. Zihnal; Iron Honor; Our Moneyman; Igniter
lead the pack; however, Further Ado and The Puma are in and cannot be discounted. Additionally,
Sassman is a kid shooter with absolutely real potential. This is one stakes where a gambler earns his winnings.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("Nuu?" nuus Mr. Ginsburg, opening his door to an urgent tapping at 5:30 in the morning. "It's me, Misteh G," jitters Sally. "I know it's oily, but I gotta tawk to ya befoeh I go t' woik." "Ah," he ahs. "Inside, coming, but quiet please, Esther still is sleeping..." "It's 'bout Leonoreh," whispers Sally, stepping into the apartment. "Sump'n happn't yestehday." "Oh yes," nods Mr. Ginsburg. "The phone call I took, at Schreibstein's, for Yussel. No one could reach." "She tried t' run awff," relates Sally. "T' teacheh sen' home a note. She wen' t'getta drinka wawteh, an' neveh come back. T'ey was afraid she'd run away, t'ey hadda cawps lookin' awl oveh -- an'nen'ney found'eh, hidin' innis little room undeh t' staiehs wheh t'ey keep t' mops an' brooms. She was hidin' inneh inna dawrk, peekin' out t'is crack inna wawl, wawtchin' ev'rybody lookin' fawr'eh. T'eh cops sen' somebody out t' Ozone Pawrk t'get Joe, an'nen I get home fr'm woik an' Leonoreh's cryin' an' Joe's awl upset, an'..." "A shrekeleh dakh," mutters Mr. Ginsburg. "I am sorry, Sally. This I did not know. Leonoreh said to me maybe she would run away, but I thought, like a child is often saying..." "Look," exhales Sally, "I got a letteh heeh, I wrote las' night. Me'n Joe was up awl night tawkin'. An' I wrote t'is letteh t' Docteh Minkoff. When you take 'eh t' t' clinic t'day, tell 'im what happn't, an' give 'im t'is. We gotta do sump'n." "Yah, yah," assures Mr. G. "That I will do." "T'anks," sighs Sally, her head hanging. "Whattaya do wit' a kid like t'is? I ask ya?" "The best that you can," assures Mr. G.....)

("She's awright, t'ough?" questions Solly Pincus. "Yeh," nods Joe. "Me'n Sal was up awl night try'na figyeh out what t' do. She wrote a letteh t' Docteh Minkoff, an' we'eh gonna have a tawk wit' 'im. An' look, t'anks f' takin' caehr'a t' meat." "I hate we hadda take it oveh t' Shaughnessy's place," sighs Solly. "But who else inn'is neighbehood has a meat cooleh big enough." "He's gonna chawrge me an awrm an' a leg t' cut it up an' grind it," sighs Joe. "T'at's 'bout what he ast," shrugs Solly. "But I -- convinced 'im -- just a leg, moeh'ra less." "I still dunno how Uncle Frank swung it," wonders Joe. "T'at bill t' driveh left said 'Tuckahoe Country Club Association.' What t' hell izzat?" "Shaughnessy said t' stamp awnit said "US Prime," notes Solly. "He says he ain't seen'at since befoeh t' wawr." "An' Uncle Frank said I could pay it awff on time," marvels Joe. "Jeezuz. I hope'ee din' STEAL it." "Nahhh," nahs Solly. "Frank's a crook, but 'e's an hawnest crook...")

(Coming Events...)

(Yes, by all means, bring on the Reds...)

(This is Ella's other mean stepsister. And she's probably related to Emmy Plushbottom somewhere along the line...)

(That's Show Biz...)

(It's hard to take you seriously, pardner, with your leg up in the air like that...)

(It's good to begin your day with everything planned out.)

(WHEN DO WE EAT?)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

Ew.

Bad career move, Dix.

"At least they've got meat."

Hey, you need a permit to operate a raft on this river!

11AM? I thought she was on at 730. Did she oversleep?

Fish in a barrel.

Before you jump, be sure there's water in the tank.

A Lincoln Zephyr, yet. Who are they trying to impress?

"Boop a doop?" Harold is a mouldy figge.

Some people just aren't made for the outdoor life.

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Worker...

"Yes, kids, your ol' granddad got the c r a p kicked out of him by Joe Louis..."

 

[Fading Fast]

"Frank's a crook, but 'e's an hawnest crook..."

Absolutely some of the best logic you'll encounter in life. There are people who believe this — truly, deeply believe it — and they are not really wrong. It's a convoluted thing to explain to a child though.

********************************************************

Half the challenge in life is just finding where your particular skills are valued.

********************************************************

Somebody is not in a good mood about Chinese red tape.

********************************************************

Before you jump, be sure there's water in the tank.

And she should know that since we already had the live-in-a-horrible-place storyline with these too. And Nina is one of the smart ones.

********************************************************

"Yes, kids, your ol' granddad got the c r a p kicked out of him by Joe Louis..."

Chuck Wepner ate out pretty well on less.

 

[Harp]

Adam & Eve on a raft is more than ''egg talk''.
(Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio in The Color of Money) ---wonderful spellbound storytelling.

Zihnal scratched yesterday; probably for strategic rather than equine somatic cause,
and cast a shadow across the Pennsylvania Derby. Still playable for rail crowing; however
the invariable handle notch, plus the Gordian Knot diffused equine inherent talent, upended
linear progressive secular handicapping for more seated pants gut instinct. Should have stuck
to exacta infield bets and choked up my bankroll. Missed a Further Ado-Puma hit by fence
spotting fecta swings and ****** flush a sound inside straight exacta. I played left field as a kid
with some second base, so the dye was cast long ago.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("I'm afraid so," nods Dr. Minkoff. "The principal, Miss Ring, has reported the incident to the superintendent of schools, who will take it to the Board of Education, and I believe the consequences for Leonora will be serious." "She's got it in fawr me," glowers Sally. "She prob'ly tol'ya I t'rew a bot'la ink atteh." "Ah," stumbles Dr. Minkoff. "Neveh min'at," dismisses Joe. "Whattat'ey gonna do." "I believe the recommendation will be," sighs Dr. Minkoff, "that Leonora be withdrawn from 1-A until next year." "T'eh gonna b ust 'eh t' kindehgawrt'n?" gasps Sally. "She won' stan' f' t'at." "Nevertheless," continues the doctor, "they have a strong case that your daughter's social development -- ah - has not kept pace with her mental development." "Hmph," hmphs Sally. "It happens," sighs Dr. Minkoff. "But to be clear, this DOESN'T mean she'll necessary have to attend kindergarten. Compulsory education in this city doesn't begin until age six, so the other alternative might be another year at the clinic. Frankly, this would be my recommendation, if you're in agreement." "I dunno," frowns Joe. "You awready tol' us she don' get alawng too good wit' t'em ot'eh kids up t'eh." "That's true," concedes the doctor. "But it IS a more controlled environment than public school, and gives us an opportunity to work directly with her in a way that..." "Yeh, yeh," interrupts Sally. "She's been goin'eh f' two yeehs now. " "Children develop," reminds the doctor, "at their own pace." "I din' need no clinic," mutters Sally. "We didn't HAVE a clinic then," counters the doctor....)

("I'm just checkin'," declares Solly Pincus, "t'see how ya comin' cutt'n up t'at meat f' Joe." "Ahhh," ahhs Shaughnessy the Butcher. "Oi've got thaaarrty pounds soo farr, boned, trimmed, and groond. An' moor t' coom." "An' ya weighed awf what we agreed awn is yawr cut," glares Solly. "Oh yes, ooh yes," nods Shaughnessy, nervously fi ngering his blood-flecked apron. "T'en ya won' mind," insists Solly, "if I take a look." "Ahhhh," ahhs Shaughnessy. "Perhaps ye moit'..." "I might WHAT?" scowls Solly. "Ahhhh," hesitates Shaughnessy, just as the door to his cold room swings open. "All right, Johnny," tw inkles Mavis Doyle, clutching her fur piece. "Here's my list." "Ahhhhh...." stammers Shaughnessy, as Solly advances behind the counter......)

("It woiked out pretty good," reports Rosa, handing back the pocket knife. "I gotta get me one'a t'ese." "They do come in handy," agrees Shirley. "Yeh," snorts Rosa. "Mayehoff neveh laid a han' awn me!")

(Life interrupted.)

(Did Dixie get his free carton of Old Golds for that homer? And did he throw it back?)

(But which one is evil?)

("We'll broadcast it live! Our Hooper rating will go thru the roof!")

("And she didn't even sign my cast!")

(This would make a helluva movie. Or did it?)

(Yes, I imagine he does have a distinctive scent...)

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Daily News...

The city with a heart.

Seems Joe Moore's got his hands full these days....

Annie learned a lot from Nick...

Eh. Guys from the school paper are more fun.

Your move.

Rudy Vallee plays the saxophone, and look how HE ended up...

Well? WILL HE?

Clancy loves a good rubber-hose job.

Chops has come a long way since he threatened to tor ture Raven Sherman...

If you're gonna commune with nature, then commune with nature!

 

[LizzieMaine]

And in the Worker...

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!" -- Hedda Hopper.

 

[Fading Fast]

"I din' need no clinic," mutters Sally. "We didn't HAVE a clinic then," counters the doctor....

Oh, Sally, please listen to your own words carefully.

********************************************************

"T'en ya won' mind," insists Solly, "if I take a look."

Yet Frank can't get along with this guy as a friend and partner: the guy who is in there protecting his friend.

********************************************************

"It woiked out pretty good," reports Rosa, handing back the pocket knife. "I gotta get me one'a t'ese." "They do come in handy," agrees Shirley. "Yeh," snorts Rosa. "Mayehoff neveh laid a han' awn me!"

If they both keeps their heads, this partnership makes a lot of sense, but it is a difficult balance to maintain over time.

BTW, the guy saying the ecomics of TV as they stand won't allow for feature-length films on TV is spot on for his time, but it sounds so funny in the era of streaming where Amazon and Netflix scream at me daily through email to watch this or that movie.

********************************************************

This would make a helluva movie. Or did it?

I have lost something of the thread of this over the past several days. Later, time permitting, I'm going to have to go back and reread them.

********************************************************

The city with a heart.

Great story. I hope we get at least one more follow-up article about his new job and then the family moving into the apartment, which I bet will be furnished by the same charitable acts that got them this far.

The Ford-Firestone "merger" is fun in a silly way.

*******************************************************

Seems Joe Moore's got his hands full these days....

Methinks the Daily News sport photographers are feeling the heat from the Eagle's.

********************************************************

Chops has come a long way since he threatened to tor ture Raven Sherman...

Charles is often a roaring *ss, but I am enjoying seeing him give Nasty exactly what she deserves – he is clearly enjoying it too.

********************************************************

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!" -- Hedda Hopper.

If only they could hold on for 80 more years then they could all take GLP-1s. I've noticed a few actresses who always leaned a bit to the heavy side looking rail-thin these days. I'd bet it's GLP-1s. My girlfriend has a friend who has always "fought" her weight (she was never heavy, but not rail-thin) and she is now a skeleton. I was genuinely concerned that she might be sick the last time I saw her, but my girlfriend says she's "obsessed" with GLP-1s.

 

[Harp]

Mrs Swank nearly bought a ****** stepping out with Schaf. Schafted. Probably.

No jokes about Adam & Eve, apples, or bananas.

 

[LizzieMaine]

("I don' get t' kid," sighs Sally, gazing out at her daughter, who is drawing an inflammatory cartoon of Miss Kiefer and Miss Ring on the sidewalk with a chunk of brick. "She's mis'rable innat school, she can't stan' t' teacheh an'na principal, an' awla kids, but y'know what she done when we tol'eh we was gonna send'eh back t' t' clinic? She had a fit!" "Yeh," nods Alice. "We hoid it downstaiehs las' night. We was try'na lissen t' 'Twenny Questions,' an' we on'y made it t' fifteen." "Sawry," shrugs Sally. "I dunno what we'eh gonna do wit' t'at kid. I r'membeh when she was lit'l, she'd sit out'eeh lookin' at ants. Neveh said a woid, jus' staehed at t'em ants. I miss t'em days." "Sometimes Willie acts up," commisserates Alice. "But I tell 'im to stawp, an'ee does." "Teach me how t' do t'at," requests Sally. "I dunno how I do it," admits Alice. "I jus' look at'im like t'is heeh." She squints one eye and raises the opposite eyebrow. "Hah!" laughs Sally, in spite of herself. "See?" grins Alice. "T'at's what Willie does. An' oncet he's had a good laugh, he f'gets what he was actin' up about!" "Someday," marvels Sally, "I'm gonna figyeh you out...")

("Figyehs we'd get meat," sighs Joe, "an' now t' racin' meet's oveh." "Y'd neveh know it," observes Sammy. "Awlem cawrs out'eh." "It's the meat," reminds Shirley. "Two specials, a Coke an' a root beeh," calls out Rosa, gliding smoothly to the service window. "Comin' out," calls Sammy, deftly wrapping the sandwiches and sliding them onto a tray. Shirley plucks the bottles from the cooler, uncaps them, places them on either side of the sandwiches, and slides the tray thru the window. With a quick, practiced motion, Rosa hoists the tray to her shoulder and glides back into the lot. "Toity seconds," grins Joe, glancing at the clock. "See'f we c'n do t' nex' one in twenny-five...")

(Ooh! Bring on the Phillies!!!!)

(Aw, it took him all day to think of that "Red or Yellow" line...)

(Well, the same idea occured to me, but I couldn't afford to try it...)

(Somewhere there's a trolley conductor who just made a nice profit.)

(Well, to be meticulous about it, the common idea of "hell" as a place of eternal torment doesn't appear anywhere in the Old Testament.)

(Scarlet could cause a lot of trouble in a place like that...)

(All that, and Maureen doesn't look like she's enjoying it much...)

("Oh, and you're all fired.")