A/N: Please read and review
Edwin Poole went insane a few years ago. It was a big deal. So big they had to bring in Shirley to the Boston office. And now here I am, several years later, another person brought in to the Boston office because yet another founding partner has…lost his marbles.
I'm sure Denny's clinically sane, but there's no other wording I can think of for his recent behavior.
A long time ago, we were colleagues. We ran in the same circles. We even had mutual friends. I have to admit that even I admired the great Denny Crane. That is, when he was still the great Denny Crane. Before the ego got to him, in those golden years when his record meant something and was more than just a good example of nepotism at its' worst.
He could have gone into his older age with dignity and grace, and instead…he's become a joke.
Perhaps this is why I cannot deal with him in very long bouts. Perhaps this is why it is easier to join those mocking him than try to take him seriously.
I did try to be serious. More than once, I have tried to reach out, have tried to get through to him. I saw the look on his face when he saw Shirley and I kissing and even I have to admit that it was heartbreaking. But he's really brought it upon himself. And even after all the threats of shooting me, and the indescribable manner in which I've been treated since arriving here, I still tried to reach out.
And what did he do? He farted. While looking at me with that indignant, smug little smirk, he farted--practically in my face.
Well, Denny Crane, unfortunately your farts do smell, just like everyone else's.
And so here I am. The last bastion of sane in a crazy-torn firm. Well. Aside from Shirley, that is. She's the real stronghold.