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by Rick Walton
The other day I was on the phone with Plifford Snootches, author of Kennedy Killed Your Mother. He was telling me about all the horrible things Kennedy had done. Mr. Snootches had just put in a plug for his upcoming work, Kennedy Killed the Dinosaurs, when my call-waiting blipper blipped. I put Mr. Snootches on hold and answered the waiting call.
"Hello, are you talking to Plifford Snootches?" the voice on the other end asked.
"Why yes, how did you know?" I asked.
"I read your column. I'm glad I caught you before you hung up on that disseminator of distortion. I'm Lancelot D. Winestain, author of Kennedy Was the Pope. And I just wanted to challenge that runny-nosed weasel you're talking to."
Not one to miss out on a good brawl, I called AT&T and had them set up a conference call.
"There now," I said, "are we all here?"
"I'm here," said Winestain.
"Wait a minute," said Snootches, "who's on with us?"
"Lancelot Winestain is going to join our conversation, Mr. Snootches," I explained.
"That bootlicker!" screamed Snootches. "He's to history what goats are to 7-Elevens."
"But goats have nothing to do with 7-Elevens," I said.
"Exactly," said Snootches.
"I resent this lunatic's ravings," said Winestain. "Snootches wouldn't recognize history if it pulled his intestines out and wrapped them around his head."
"Gentlemen, gentlemen," I said, remembering my training from the Phil Donahue school of fight management. (I attended a week at the Geraldo school, but had to quit when I broke my nose.) Mr. Snootches, Mr. Winestain wants to defend Mr. Kennedy. Let's hear what he has to say, and then we'll hear your comments. Mr. Winestain?"
"Thank you," said Winestain. "I just wanted to step in and set the record straight about Kennedy. Kennedy did NONE of the things that Snootches claims he did."
"You wouldn't know..." interrupted Snootches.
"Now Mr. Snootches," I said. "Let's listen to Mr. Winestain. You'll get your turn later. Go ahead, Mr. Winestain."
"Thank you again. As I was saying, Kennedy was an angel, a true saint. If he had lived there would be no sick or hungry in the world today.
"He only had good in his heart. Remember your third birthday, when you wanted that Toddler Time Instant Train Wreck set, and your mother couldn't afford it because she was working four jobs trying to pay for that delicate operation on your father's ears?"
"Yes," I said. It had been an important time in my life.
"Well you got the set, didn't you."
"Yes, I did," I remembered fondly.
"And do you know who gave it to you?"
"My dear mother."
"Nope, it was Kennedy."
"This is baloney," said Snootches. "Kennedy wouldn't give anyone anything that didn't require a hospital stay."
"That's not true!" said Winestain. "Kennedy singlehandedly saved millions of people when Krakatoa exploded!"
"He did not, he was the one who suggested that Krakatoa would be a good place for nuclear weapons testing."
"And when the ancestors of the Indians crossed the land bridge to the New World, it was Kennedy who carried their luggage!"
"Kennedy was the one who blew up the land bridge so the Indians couldn't go back for their appliances."
"Well, Kennedy wrote the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, and the Bill of Rights! All in one evening!"
"Yeah, but did you see Kennedy's version of the Constitution? It made the warthog our national bird! for goodness sake. And the Bill of Rights? I quote, 'A good jelly being a special thing, the citizens of the United States shall not be deprived of the right to spread jelly all over their bodies and rub themselves against your cattle.'"
"This is ridiculous! Where do you get your facts, from rabid ducks?"
"At least my sources don't have ants and grubs as their main dietary source."
"Gentlemen, gentlemen," I said, trying to defuse the fireworks. But once the fireworks are lit, trying to defuse them is a dangerous task.
"SHUT UP, YOU MORON! WHAT DO YOU KNOW!" they both screamed at me. Then they returned to calling each other names.
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