(xx) Vic's Foreign Accent

Well sir, Mr. and Mrs. Victor Goker settled for a quiet evening at home as we join them in the living room of the small house halfway up in the next block now. Our friends are seated on the Davenport, occupied with sections of the newspaper, and for some little time complete silence is prevailed.

But at length... Oh Florence Rat funnel gets her name in the paper I see. Is Visty Kuch? What? Is this the truth? Bunch of ladies over on Jackson Street had a tea and she poured.

A group of mothers of grade school aged children met at the home well. This is just talky talkin' trash. Down at the bottom it says Ms. Atwood Hoppers and Mrs. Ither Ratfall poured. This is, I should say, a dandy?

Oh, Florence will say dandy. She loves having her name in the paper. Oh, is it's been a long time since I saw that girl. We used to be almost chummy when they lived on University Avenue there.

Since they moved out on Jackson Street, I don't see her nine times a year. Her and Arthur might just as well have moved to North Dakota or someplace. Ah, ah, yes. Hello, Teddy. What? I said hello, Teddy.

Hello, CD. Russell sneak off somewhere? Yes. Where'd he go? William, TA. Huh? Who am TA? What's this funny man's business? Oh my. Oh Victor, go through as transparent as my shoestring. I know I am.

Person can see through you like they can see through Detroit, Michigan. I know it. All I have to do when you feel guilty about something is just glance at you and you turn red as fire and giggling and whimper and claw at your hair and sit on your feet and try to hide your head down in your vest.