Daisy was a department store clerk in NYC. Her coworkers were amazed when her Facebook page started to explode in selfies of her on vacation snorkeling in tropical waters. All were envious at first, until someone recognized that distinguished monolith, the Face of Everyman. A quick search of the web confirmed that Daisy was really at the posh Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. The ruse was up, but she still had stories to tell.
Quackery
Quacks and fakers sometimes slipped into the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa to practice their nefarious arts. Seen here on a security camera image are two charlatans attempting to bamboozle the Face of Everyman. Calling themselves skilled and renown phrenologists these two met their match when they picked Everyman as their mark.
When with solemn scientific certainty they assured him that his shapely head revealed him as a creature of mirth; the stoic sage almost burst out laughing.
Clubs
Blacky was on a crusade to recruit new members on behalf of every civic and philanthropic organization near the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. He practiced his persuasive appeal on the Face of Everyman. Blacky offered a litany of names of groups from which the venerable sage might choose: Lions, 4H, AARP, NOW, NRA, ACLU, Optimist, Rotary. Normally stoic, the sage was elated to learn that he would be making so many new friends. He said Yes to all.
Ozwald, Flying Ace
Ozwald told the story over and over again as long as someone else was buying the drinks at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. “I was returning from a secret night time sortie and as I was about to land I spotted incoming tracers. There, off my starboard wing, was The Blue Max, camouflaged as a Northwestern Crow. Jumping gee-hosa-fat, there was nothing else to do but clear my guns and roll into a classic aerial combat mode. Last I saw, he was trailing smoke.”
The venerable sage remained mute. He had his own “war stories”.
Concern
When pigeons feed they are so anxious that they’ll get less than others they push and shove towards the tiniest morsel. The newcomer to the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa brought out heightened fears of The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. They paused only a nano second to affirm with each other that the Crow figure was a sign; the threat of Famine was real. Their hysteria had the venerable saga wishing he’d had a second croissant with his morning Latte.
Ice Cream
Ben and Jerry boasted about the large income tax refund they expected this year. In a sober moment they thought about starting a business; perhaps opening a store here at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. When they approached the Face of Everyman seeking his wisdom; he offered: “Why not make ice cream and give the flavors irresistibly hip names?”
Space Time Continuum
It was probably the scariest moment imaginable at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. Pacha actually stuck his head through the Space Time Continuum. Marcel and the Face of Everyman were perhaps the only eye witnesses. The venerable sage realized that we had entered a new era of cosmology. He decided to remain mute as there seemed no way to escape the inevitable; besides, Pacha returned intact and had no memory of the frightening event.
DSM-5
The clinic at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa was closed for the long weekend. Besides the DSM-5 did not address Cranston’s specific psychiatric disorder. The repeated bursting of bubbles by any one individual had not yet reached statistical significance in the general population. the Face of Everyman had suggested to others that perhaps some sort of intervention could be staged.
Country Bumpkin
Good table manners were the hall mark of good breeding for most guests at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa but when the new guest, fresh from the frozen marshlands, revealed such boorish behavior at tea; even the jaded venerable sage, the Face of Everyman shuddered. Link takes you off site: http://tinyurl.com/hh4ap9l
Circus Folks
The circus had established Winter quarters in the large meadow near the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. Occasionally the thirteen little folks who made up the Clown Act would pile into their bright yellow VW bug and drive over in time for the first seating of High Tea. Alack and alas, the Face of Everyman didn’t understand a word of their Gypsy dialect. Link leads offsite: http://tinyurl.com/hyp2dlo
torkelsbirds 