Codger Tone It Down Some More?
By Rob Morris
THE CLEGHORN LUNCHEON AND SUPPER CLUB FOR RETIRED SERVICE OFFICERS, 1967
Retired Commander Miles Todal Tevey McBragg was becoming a desperate man – no, not that sort of desperate, at least to hear his tale of his liberation of ten captive harems, chock full of grateful ladies, achieved with a distracting cologne of his own concoction, naturally.
But it was tales like this that were the cause of his admitted desperation. In this venerable gentlemen's club (well before such terms were defined downwards, and it really was a club for retired gentlemen), he was a very known quantity. The brothers and cousins of the extended Delmar family, usually the ones McBragg cornered for his dubious tales of derring-do (and each sounding astonishingly like all the others in their clan) had taken to keeping watch and pulling their kin out of story's way. The other members had long past learned this lesson. Even that near-sighted fellow had learned this, and he was as stubborn as McBragg.
So McBragg wandered about, unable to pigeonhole anyone, till he spotted what must have been a new member. Without conscious thought, he pounced, overcame objections, and told of how he turned back 'those Martian blighters' in both 1897 and 1938, using only a can of high-pressure shaving cream. The new member sat silently before, during and after this narrative, finally prompting a frustrated McBragg to inquire:
"Nothing to say, then? You must admit, that was quite an adventure, wouldn't you say?"
The new member sighed, shook his head, and gave forward with an uncharacteristically blunt and even crude opinion.
"My good man, I can honestly say, I know a penguin and a walrus who on their worst days are more believable than any one section of your stories. I think – that really, you must be quite full of crap!"
Thunderstruck, needing a drink and a chair, McBragg pulled back and away from the new member, later vowing to never again speak to Professor Phineas J. Whoopee.