(xx) Ladies Auxilliary Marching Team

Well sir, the evening meal has been over only a little while as we enter the small house halfway up in the next block now. Young Rush Gook has lately departed to attend the first show at the Bijo Moving Picture Theatre, leaving his parents to spend a restful season at home.

Vic seems to have made an observation verging on the controversial, for here is wife saying that some emphasis... I'm certainly not going to do any marching. No marching is required of you. I don't even want to be involved. Better just leave me out altogether.

Well, hey, let me tell you what this is. I'm busy enough without getting mixed up in your lodge stuff. That remark sounds just a shade harsh-sady. Person don't mean to sound harsh, of course. And I'm not belittling your lives the least bit, but...

I got my own thing I belong to, Fimble Club, and I think you ought to keep your organization separate. You're jumping at frightening conclusions without cause, kiddo. There's nothing alarming in the matter I'm trying to tell you about.

You won't have to do any marching. You won't have to lift your little finger. You mentioned something about me being on a marching team. If you permit me, I'll explain. Will you permit me? Go ahead. Seems like every other day some darn large trash comes along to upset a person.

There is no occasion for being upset in the present instant stadium. Alright. This afternoon, I received a long-distance telephone call from HK Fleibert. Mmm. That name is familiar, I trust. Gravelman, South Carolina guy. HK Fleibert is a consolidated kitchenware official of some importance.