Weekend at Gleebes

And now, a tale well calculated to keep you in... Spence. In a moment, act one of weak ended gleeves, written especially for suspense by Elmo. Mr. Hancher, what is going on here?

Come in, lady Pankos. Mr. Hancher, what is this lady Pankos business? They kept calling me that outside. Well, you did marry, Lord Pankos, didn't you? No, no, it wasn't you, was it? I've never seen you before, actually, ever.

I've never even heard of Lord Pancoast. But Wallace assured us he... he went home for the wedding. How? Two bleeds. Wallace's home is in New York City. It always has been and still is. Oh dear me.

What, for heaven's sake, are Gleed. Gleed is one of historic homes of England in Sussex. Are you really Wallace Trowbridge's mother? Of course I am Wallace Trowbridge's mother. Well, at Dembridge, we'd never actually seen you, you know.

Two months back, Wallace said you'd married Lord Pankos and moved to Gleeb. And you believed him? I am Mrs. Warren Trowbridge of New York City and the mother of Wallace Trowbridge. I set my son to this school believing that he'd be looked after, but I find instead...

He hasn't looked after Mr. Trowbridge. Would you care to see some identification? Oh, you must have some records. My signature must be on something. No, we have indeed. Bring in all the records on Wallace's Cambridge, will you, please?

I'm just not the sort that carries about pictures of her child. A Wallace didn't even have a letter from you, Mrs. Trobridge, until six weeks after he arrived here. He's had very little mail of any kind, except from his friend Billy.