Jeffrey plunges an oar
"Sir?"
"Don't you sir me. How dare you interrupt me while I'm polishing the family jewels!"
"Forgive the intrusion, sir. I had been given to understand that their daily buffing would normally take place in the early morning hours."
"Well...they...lost their sheen at some point this afternoon."
"Very good, sir."
"What is it then? Why are you bothering me?"
"Only to inform you that your guests are anxiously awaiting the arrival of the 'birthday boy'."
"Oh, Jeffrey, I can't face them. Wouldn't it be alright if I just sat here whacking off to Soul Train reruns until they've all left?"
"It would be considered in extraordinarily bad form, sir."
"I suppose. Blast. Well, couldn't you tell them that I've died?"
"The resulting celebration would undoubtedly last even longer, sir."
"That's true too."
"If I might propose a course of action, sir?"
"Yes yes, do, Jeffrey, do."
"I believe if one were to, as the western American phrase goes,bite the bullet and briefly adhere to a few conventions of civility, all one's social obligations would be quickly fulfilled, and the resumption of jewel polishing could resume undisturbed."
"Well, it certainly sounds less harrowing when you say it. All right then, which social obligations require fulfilling?"
"As I recall, sir, a large cylindrical pastry item will be set ablaze and you will be asked to place your face directly in harm's way to extinguish the flames by expelling the very air that keeps you alive and made your day of birth possible in the first place."
"Why, that's ghastly!"
"Indeed, sir."
"What a barbaric ritual. All right, what else?"
"I fancy you may have to endure a rendition of..that dreadful song, sir."
"No!"
"Unavoidable, sir."
"I've never understood the lyrics to that particular ditty, Jeffrey. Why the constant repetition of the phrase TO YOU? Happy birthday TO YOU, happy birthday TO YOU, as though the guest of honor were in danger of forgetting whose birthday it is."
"That is curious. Ahem, so shall we begin to move in the direction of your destiny, sir?"
"Did you just ahem me, Jeffrey?"
"I did, sir, but only as a time signature toward the inevitable."
"Right, right. Well, let's be off then."
"Pants, sir?"
"Pants too? How many of these blasted social obligations are there?"
"They do seem to be mounting, sir."
"Couldn't I just allow my ball sack to swing freely, countering the objections by placing it on a serving tray and offering it up as a savory?"
"I would advise against it, sir."
"But can't you picture it? 'Quick bite of ballage, Mrs. Hampton?'"
"I'm sure we will all mourn the absence of that charming encounter. Oh, you did receive a card in the post today, sir. I believe it to be from the gentlemen at the boating club."
"Thank you, Jeffrey. Let's see...'Happy Birthday, you wrinkled old cock.'"
"Delightful."
"Hmmm.."
"Sir?"
"Well, how could those blighters at the boat house possibly have known about the relaxed swatch of epidermis surrounding my manhood?"
"Don't you generally use it as a flag when entering the marina, sir?"
"Yes yes, of course. That must be it. Ah, Jeffrey, I...I just can't believe it."
"What's that, sir?"
"I'm 50 years old."
"Yes, sir."
"That's half a century!"
"Best not to think of it that way, sir. Instead, think of it as one twentieth of a millennium."
"Really?"
"Yes, sir. Nineteen more of these and you'll be a thousand years old."
"Jeffrey?"
"Sir?"
"Would you bring me a loaded revolver, please?"
"Presently, sir. In the meantime, shall we..?"
"Yes yes, all right. Em..Jeffrey.."
"Sir?"
"You don't think I'm a wrinkled old cock, do you?"
"It wouldn't be my choice of characterizations, sir."
"But what of its accuracy?"
"To borrow a phrase from your nautical chums at the boating club, these may be waters into which one should avoid plunging an oar, sir."
"Jeffrey?"
"Sir?"
"Fuck you."
"Very good, sir."
Copyright 2010 John Bizarre
