
Pond Swill


Cyril had seen better days; elite hotels where Perrier with a Ph of 5 was the drink de jure. After the market crashed he took to drinking from public fountains; perhaps free diving for small change. He was in total shock when he drank thirstily at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. The traveler’s guide book prepared by the Face of Everyman gave no hint as to the swamp water pigswill a refined guest would encounter. The clinic staff assured Cyril that he did not need a Tetanus booster shot.
Graydon had chosen the lush gardens of the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa as the setting to announce his candidacy. His wild promises to drain the swamp and curtail illegal immigration brought gasps from his meager audience. the Face of Everyman tried to whisper a new stratagem. Unwittingly he offered Graydon: “A chicken in every pot.”
One of the Bergdorf twins buzzed the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. The Flying Circus was encamped at the meadow and daring feats of flying could be seen this very afternoon. For the Face of Everyman this meant that his nap would be cut short by the hubbub of the onlookers. While anxious mothers feared that their fledglings would be lured away by the thrill being a risk taking aerial acrobat.
Taco and Paco were all dressed up in their new outfits. With time on their hands they decided to hang out at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa with the hope that the girls might notice them. About all that happened was that the Face of Everyman got tired of Paco standing on his face and asked him to leave. With that, the boys went foraging for lunch.
Holy Moly thought Smedley this must be what an attack of Deja Vu feels like. He was sure that he’d never been to the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa and yet every object in this setting was familiar; right down to that handsomely carved chunk of basalt. He was even sporting his bright Summer mating colors. “Hey there old rock”, he called out. “Where the heck am I?” Alas, the Face of Everyman remained mute, as he is wont to do. “S” flew South, never to return to that magical spot.
At the first class reunion of the graduates of the Montetorkie school many of the guys came in their old mating colors. the Face of Everyman noted, with a wry smile, that these were the same guys who were in the stag line at every sock hop. Many things are universal even at the magical Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa.
Not all was peaches & cream at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. the Face of Everyman was forced to witness much marital discord. Yardley had sworn that he had been looking for work. Sybil had believed him until the Racing Form fell out of his pocket. What to do? She was already working two jobs. Maybe they could skimp by if she cancelled satellite TV.
Life for Zoe was a struggle. She was born into the Avian world where plumage said everything a prospect mate needed to know. The travel agency touted this weekend before Halloween at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa would be a life changer. Complementary costumes and masks or optional face painting were meant to add mystery and romance to this holiday vacation package. On first sight, the Face of Everyman could sense her discomfort and suggested that she go down to the nearby village. He had heard good reports about Billie Jean’s Club; right across the street from The Bear Cave. The venerable sage remained confident of his skill in sizing up anxious guests.
In typical perverse action the Juke twins, Bobby and Betty fought over a dried up furcula left behind by rogue Crows who frequently swept through the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa preying on innocent wildlife. the Face of Everyman heard only the snap of the bone; not the wishes. He kept his thoughts to himself, recalling with relish his last Coquelet.