Face.
Sir Face.
Surface.
Surfer Ace.
On the surface, Ace was a surfer.
On the surf, “He was a face, sir.”
“Sir Face De Ace” and “Fleece du Lace” did meet amongst a “Coup de Grace,” a jolly case, of good cognac, inside that 2-tone Cadillac… a “Coupe de Ville” in Fond du Lac, Wisconsin.
“What a place for one to taste mace in the face” thought Ace. “It’s a total waste of face space!”
On the surface, Sir Face de Ace did see all that case, and avoided behavior so base to this place as all that haste. He adhered to proper taste and joined the race… the “Race de Rat,” with legendary case and hat, thinking that somewhere along the chase, maybe he would set the pace and thereby get to share a space with “Fleece du Lace,” from Fond du Lac, Wisconsin.
But he lived far, far away… in a place called L.A., so, she said:
“You.”
“Phone.”
“You phone!”
“Phone, you phony!”
“Euphony.”
“You phony ass, phone us!”
Euphonious… is what it be, harmonious, although that melody, does play most erroneously…. A melody that’s staring at me through its prison bars… sipping cognac… from its prison bars. Or was it the prison bar?
“Poor us…. Oh, poor, poor us.”
I’m as porous as a porpoise and all I can say is “poor us.”
“Pour us another cognac, Kojak. It cold to be poor us dere Kingfish, especially in dis here prison bar. What all dese porpoises be doin in here anyway?
One thing about a prison bar… you don’t have to worry about having enough regulars… but it’s tough to meet a “nice” girl dere.
Applause. Applause.
“Thank you, thank you!... but seriously ladies and gentlemen… Fond du Lac… it’s a great town… C’est bon… innnnnnn…Wisconsin!”
When in Wisconsin, don’t be surprised if you wonder… what the hell am I doing here in Fond du Lac? Was it a bad year? No, it was a badger! Oh, now I get it…. Bad-ger! ……. That’s awful.
“Doctor Casey… Paging Doctor Casey… Pick up the white courtesy phone… Doctor Casey, white courtesy phone please.”
Pause.
“This is Dr. Casey.”
“Hello, Dr. Casey? This is Dr. Daddio.”
“Hey. What is it Doctor D?”
“It’s a trip Holmes…. but it’s cool.”
“Talk to me Daddio.”
“Well Doc, it’s my passion…. She’s a killin’ me. What can I do?”
“You got a girlfriend?”
“Yeah… Norma Lee.”
“Well, you got one now?”
“Whoaaaa Doc!... Stop… You’re killin’ me!”
A
Apt.
Apt. 2B.
Apt to be…
Apartment 2B, hopefully, is apt to be.
“2B? Or to be?” is apt to be the question.
“Apt to be apart, Norma Lee, unless we get together, or Apt. 2B together, or, to be together, we could get an apartment, or I could get a place to see, or rather apartment 2C…. Wait! To be together, I could get apartment 2C, and you could get apartment 2B, to see, if we, could live together like folks who are normal. Normally, Norma Lee, I would say, to be, or 2B, or 2C, or to see, are just a few of the questions, but these are strange times, and I would hate to commit myself. In fact, these are more than strange times, these are strange lines… maybe I really should commit myself?”
“I know… you’ll do it for me.”