Murder Me Twice

I'm Andrew of California on behalf of independent chevron gas stations and standard stations throughout the West invites you to let George do it. Another adventure of George Valentine. President will notice danger is my stock and trade.

If it's way over your head and you need discreet confidential help call on me, George Valentine. Write full details. My dad Valentine has a newspaper man and dramatic critic. I've seldom been wrong. When I have been, the public has preferred my Polish civilized verdict on a play to the clumsy mouthing of my colleagues.

For be that as it may, I've discovered a man of the Theros cutting on a fabulous masquerade and must be exposed. I need facts, and you can get them for me. I suggest... Meet my office so we can arrange an appointment.

Sign Jonathan Thorpe. Jonathan Thorpe. Yeah. Just a minute, Brooksie. What is this morning's paper? Word always is after you read the sports page. In the white basket. Well, here's a great man's column. Today's Theater by Jonathan Thorpe.

Oh, the last time he had a kind word for a play or an actor, he used the rest of the column to apologize. Yeah, well, burn the incense angel. I'm about to read some of Thorpe's deathless prose, I quote.

Since it's opening two weeks ago, I have been repeatedly warning the unsuspecting public against that dramatic abomination now holding forth the majestic theater. A wind from the prairie by Luke Eberhard could be more aptly titled, A Breeze from the Stockyard.

stockyard. Ben's harsh words, partner. What this play lacks in dramatic instruction it makes up for and sheer illiteracy. Out of sweet charity's sake I say nothing about the inane high school performance of Mark Guilford, the alleged leading man.