Ransom could no longer deny the truth. He had eaten something at the street fair which had caused him to lose his yellow pigmentation. The doctors at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa were at a loss to as to how to reverse the process. the Face of Everyman consulted his vast library. Was Ransom an albino or a lencistic? The venerable sage decided the latter; but had no answers. Everyone adopted a wait and see attitude.
Without proper sports equipment recess at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa Montietorkie School had been reduced to such tests of endurance as holding one’s head under water. Seen below Casper dunks his head while the Face of Everyman counts to one hundred. The CPR kit was close at hand if resuscitation was required.
Ambrose was quick to grab the remaining bits of French Fries cast out by guests of the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. the Face of Everyman deplored such interactions. He, himself was always careful to compost his few remaining fries when he ordered a Burger Royale with Cheese, Fries and Drink delivered.
the Face of Everyman took careful note of the markings of a new pigeon that had joined the flock. The word on the street had it that the local 4H Club had lost a prize specimen at the county fair this past weekend. The description seemed to fit. If only he could get a better look. Then he remembered that the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa was a sanctuary; all birds except Sea Gulls and Brown headed Cowbirds were welcome. He returned to stitching the quilt he would enter in the next county fair.
Farnsworth wanted desperately to attend the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa Montetorkie School. the Face of Everyman tried to explain he was too large to be among the small song birds as a student; but, he could take the correspondence courses that the venerable sage had prepared. Farnsworth decried that idea. How was he to learn to read and write if he could not attend school? Everyman was left in a quandary.
It seemed a typical Monday at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa Montetorkie School. Once more the custodian had forgotten the keys to the Athletic Gear Locker. This meant no hoops, no roller skates and more importantly no teether ball. The school yard championship was at stake. “Killer” Jones and ‘Take No Hostages” Smith would have to wait till tomorrow for their championship duel. the Face of Everyman had alerted the Boys Vice-principal to be alert for trouble.
By dawn an apathetic crowd of free loaders gathered. Their numbers having increased over the weeks to eleven. the Face of Everyman tried to get a responsible member to call 119 for the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa Rescue Team. For him to remain twisted and displaced was an act of impropriety. They left when they learned that Brunch wasn’t till 10:30. The venerable sage swallowed his pride and tried to jiggle himself to his normal resting place.