It rained all day. At the Royal Bank, everbody was in a foul mood, an nobody was in the mood fer a party, but the Viceroy and the Commissioner would be arrivin any moment now, an so the bank clerks blew up the bloons an put out the fuds on the big tabulz. George, the head clerk, grumbled to himself, but then he cheered up, when he realized that there was gonna be jumbo shrimp cocktails, which was his favrit.
At fiv o'clock on the dot, three peeples walked in: Viceroy Hay-on-Bloominton, Commissioner Gordon, and a jaunty feller wift a long red coat and big boots.
The viceroy said, "So Captain Morgashi, how goes the war on coconuts?"
"It's not easy," said Morgashi, pulling some sashimi-on-a-stick out of the cantalope. "Every time we shuts down a coconut dealer, two mor come and take his place. An they are cuttin the coconut wift all kindsa crazy stuffs like sugar an salt an eevn turnip shavins if yu kin beleeve it."
The small talk continued as a small band gathered in the lobby an began playin square dance music, because somebody had hired the wrong fiddler.
Captain Morgashi turned to Commissioner Gordon and said, "Care to dance?"
Then, while the commissioner was swishin her skirt an the captain was do-si-doing, in the background where nobody wud notice them, a little man wift spectacles sneaked in wift a ragtag band of brothers in scratchy suits, all incognito, an they slipped into the back room where the safe was.
"Turn up the music!" yelled the captain, an the band played as hard as they cud. "Napoleon's Retreat" never sounded so gud. If there was in the background the sound like a small exploshun, peoples just figgered that it was sound effects.
The party ended just aftr midnight, an at first nobody noticed the complete lack of chili sauce, or, fer that matter, gold.