Tamping down on the fresh tobacco, the good man begins to stoke the stuff and lights up. He inhales a deep breath as he continues to compact the glowing wad of leaves. The man of many words takes a deeper hit the second time and shakes his head, rubbing his brow.
“Lizabeth,” a contraction of Mrs. Right’s first name, “you did go to Wally World for my tobaccy, didn’t you,” he questions.
“Why, of course I did. Is something wrong,” she responds submissively to the gray-haired, pompous fool.
“I’m certain you did my dear” as he continues puffing away on the mixture of Prince Albert and Lebanese Red. “I’m a little light-headed, though. Must be something I ate at the luncheon.”
“Ms. Jokester, KennyGene, come in here,” yells out our boss. Rarely one to raise his voice, we quickly jump in to find out what is the matter. Obviously he sounds a little disturbed.
“Your noses out of whack, what is that nasty odor out there,” motioning towards the outer offices. “Its Dr. I. M. Supreme, he’s just smoking his pipe with the new tobacco his secretary bought him,” Ms. Jokester speaks up. I shake my head in agreement and look away, trying to keep a stoned face.
“If I didn’t think better, I’d believe he’s smoking some marijuana like you kids do at the football games” as he continues to the point of having a mild escalation attack.
“I don’t know Dr. Everybody, they both are about the same…plain crappy if you ask me,” adding in my worthless two cents.
“You two wouldn’t know something you’re not telling me, would you” he continues, pressing for answers which never come.
Not waiting for our answer, he dismisses us and we return to work. Dr. Supreme, higher than a March kite, asks Mrs. Right to call his lovely wife, Mrs. I’m So Beautiful, to come to campus and take him home. He can’t finish the day in this condition.
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