I Do Say

Having just returned from the Congo, you might guess I felt a mighty thirst. If I may say it, my mouth felt ashen! Leaving the barqe, I immediately decended with great purpose upon an establishment called "Key Food," which wared a delicious beverage called "Gatorade." The kind and comely Latin woman tending the shop informed me with the most alluring of winks that it was on something called "WEEKLY SPECIAL"; and for a single American dollar a large bottle of this ambrosia would be mine. Needless to say, I had my man at the ship clear a line-item on the ledger for this timely purchase, and may I say it? I thirst no more! I lardered a dozen of these packets of delight, in various delightful flavors and colors, in the barqe's hold just near the ice-blocke, er, which was "procured" in the Antilles upon a the return trip; I won't say how.

And so naturally my next idea was to pen all of Bungledom to "key" them in on this bang-on find! I knew the Keys, Francis Scott was a fine poet and grog-board companion, and may I say, his generosity, in the proxy of this "Key Food," will not go forgotten by the likes of your Great Uncle Cornelius M.

Now, about these bursts in the sky. Are they your American "fireworks", or are they thunder-claps, or are they missiles of prey dispatched from North-Korea? Write soon and above all, be Merrye, for tomorrow ye may Die.