Mrs. Jokester is in place and Mrs. Right walks in with her mealtime purchase. True to her characterless routine, she places the smelly crap in the canister and rushes out to the women’s john. Nimble as a frightened deer, my boss’s girl scrambles into Dr. Supreme’s office and mixes the pot with his new tobacco. This will be all too funny; I can hardly wait. I might even pee my pants.
Thirty minutes later Mr. Self Important comes back from the chamber with Dr. Handsome My boss returns from meeting with the faculty. Everyone else is present and busy working the day away.
Dr. Supreme retreats to his office and finds Mrs. Right has indeed replenished his stock. “Thank you again, Mrs. Right. I can always count on you’” the dean praises her in front of the rest of the worker bees. This appears so trite to me. All of his verbal flatulence, what’s the point?
“Okay, Mom, in English this means passing wind or even plainer language, the good doctor of education is farting at the mouth.” My Dad says it better and gives her a one-world reply.
“Buuullllshit!” Simple, direct and dead-on, I acquire the same passion for that word and his delivery style. Nothing more, nothing less, its complete as presented.
Enough sidebar conversation, back at school, Dr. Supreme reappears center stage once more with his latest status symbol, a gift from the Dark Continent. King Kahuna Tuna from the Republic of Nothingness presents Supreme with a thoughtless smoking oracle, a pipe made from the remains of a slain elephant’s ivory tusk.
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