Happy Fists

The War On Sailing makes orphans of us all. Consider this wise anecdote anecdocumented in the personal library of a former United States President, unavailable until recently because of the usual excuses: men in black, violated constitutional rights, the Freedom Of Information Act, the faked moon landing, etc.:

Once upon a time, before the wedding, I took her to a place outside Oshkosh (on a dare!) that catered to couples who couldn't decide between eloping & shotgun weddings. If I mentioned the place, you'd know exactly where it was. We drove in circles on the 116, even though it's mostly straight, when she, with her usual aplomb, said, "I know a sleazy little den of cheese in Waukau." In those days, before the brain transplant, I was always up for anything, the skeezier the better. I hadn't yet had a chat with Dr. Jesus, if you know what I mean. I used to say every four-letter-word except love.

Well, the place, strangely enough, was a burned-out old tattoo parlor which was the site of the Brandy Night Siege*. I had read about it, of course, but I had never seen it - & like the General† said, it smelled of day-old bread in a Hollandaise sauce. I hadn't really expected the rumors to be true.

What was most surprising is that she seemed to know about the siege. We snorted fluff & head-butted to prepare us for what was going to be a decidedly queer evening. Once we found our way indoors, by means of moving about crispy furniture & a couple of intact metal doors, we found, to my surprise, but obviously not hers, a poker game going on! & not just any poker game: this game was attended by the Four Horsemen Of The Apocalypse!**

One of them pointed a Frito at me & said, "What the hell are you doing here, boy? Ain't you got a political career to worry about?"

Another blew a smoke ring at me. Needless to say, she wasn't as frightened as I, & she said, "Can it, salad fork. I brought him here. Give him the goods."

I wanted to ask questions, but of course I couldn't - she invoked the salad fork.†† However, the night which began with me wanting to get her drunk, fornicate with her, then ask her to marry me, had been turned on its heels. Now I was being forced to dress & act like a duck while the Four Horsemen made movies & she got five dollars for every tear I shed. I had never been so proud in my life - & so glad I chose her as my running mate - er, partner - er, wife.

I wish one day I could tell my grandchildren, but I have even changed my own name in this account to protect everyone. May God have tender mercies on my soil.

[Signature Removed]

NOTES:
* As will be discussed in an upcoming issue of Goof Royalty Quarterly, the Brandy Night Siege was a pitched battle during the War On Sailing which has so far been kept out of the history books - & the memories of the people of Oshkosh, Wisconsion - because of a surprise visit by Belgian nobles the morning after the siege. That this writer knows about the siege attests to his deep involvement with movers & shakers in the War On Sailing.
† In other works, "the General" usually refers, oddly enough, to Margaret Thatcher.
** For students of the War On Sailing, this label is usually meant to refer to four high school students who once visited Washington to read a paper about celery in the future to President Dwight D Eisenhower. Each of them received a gold star & Ike's blessing. Because of this, they stayed in touch, & the legend of the celery that melted General Eisenhower's heart gave them credibility that K Streeters can't buy. Needless to say, they were not there by accident.
†† For some conspirators in the War On Sailing, cutlery has tremendous power.