OCR Text |
Show PI PHI INTERMEZZO May second was a beautiful night. Cool Mediterranean breezes blew off the Bonneville level across the Pi Phi lawn. I stood pensively puffing on my herring-I always smoke herrings. Herrings have such a lovely pink odor. Having cut the final star and crescent in the outhouse, I was torn away from Clawson '.Quick" Silver and Wayward "Red" Handed by the shrill screams of some damsel in distress. Being one who always loved orange teas and county fairs, I donned my armour, put my smoked herring in locker No. 13. I never have been superstitious-No. 13 was my father's locker-dear old dad, he was such a pansy. Anyway, I jumped on my Ivery-Johnson bike and forthwith galloped away. Night after night I rode, day after day I rode, by the left flank, by the right flank, until I reached the other side of the lawn. At last I spied the hapless maid counting the peach stains in a rootbeer stand with a nest of robins in her hair. It wasn't to my surprise to see Earl "Pierre" Coppock jump out of the robin's nest. Pierre of all people-that Barbarian. It had not been many years since I had fought throat to throat and cup to saucer with this villain on the poop-deck of the "Nos-taglia." Under the pale cold, spell of a waning south sea moon, we played peas-porridge-hot until blood dripped from the awful heights of the third floor of the Union Building and our fingernails became warped and unpolished. And I always prided myself, you remember, on the Thunderbolt strikes closet! Inmates fight for air! Pearl White and faithful maid, Craig Kennedy are shown foiling the Clutching Hand. Watch for next episode. |