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.
