Goose Gingertop Deployed
The gumball reporters, we called them, were bought for nickels at the dime store, a great many of them, and bound in a leather-tied burlap pocket sack. We handed them to Goose Gingertop, a redheaded long neck from The Hamptons. This was a silver spooned boy, lavish in all his ways, but a scrapper in facets subliminal.
Let me tell you, this boy changes opinions like a switchboard operator does switches.
When we presented to Goose the gumball reporters, he tucked them away into his chest pocket and remarked, “Gentlemen, I thank you. You are wonderful lads. Now I suggest you accompany me to the cemetery to greet my dad?”
We helped clean up and decorate the plot surrounding the late Mister Gingertop’s place of burial, and in the meanwhile, Goose stood in the most neoplastic manner. It was as though he contemplated absolutely nothing, yet he did so with perfect manners.
After the subsequent two hours of meditation upon the ancient carpet in his wine cellar, he instructed us to meet him in the foyer moderately promptly. He said to dress well.
He left us in the wine cellar, eventually to be guided out by Butler Reltub, a funny looking but well-dressed dwarf man. Butler Reltub was very kind aiding us in our preparations.
The foyer brought shock and awe. What we found was our esteemed colleague, Goose Gingertop, hanging by a golden chandelier chain around his neck, and a carrier pigeon darting frantically about the room.
The pigeon, seeing us, calmed and hovered in front of me. It reached out to me its hand, revealing a note in its palm.
The note read, in Goose’s regal script, “Dear Dearest Surreal Timers, I have set out to do as you requested, but not in the fashion you requested. Trust me here, my friends, and all will be well. I am fetching father, and together I and he will arrange gumball interviews with the numerous fruitful characters of the underworld.”
“We intend on pleasing you ginormously.”
“Good day!”
POST A COMMENT
See Also
Want to read more news? Click here for a random article.