The professor must admit: Mr. Ratherquite was sitting only a few rows in front of me with his other lady.
The red-haired lady started off towards the facilities and I felt rather happy with myself–at first. Then guilt began to exact its revenge.
There Mr. Ratherquite sat, completely oblivious to the wickedness I had just committed. At least, I feel it was rather wicked to tell someone someone was where someone wasn’t. (That’s sounds professorish, doesn’t it?)
So, I climbed to my feet–rather slowly, I must admit–and walked over to Mr. Ratherquite and his other lady.
The speech, program, or play hadn’t begun yet.
Mr. Ratherquite spotted me far too early–much earlier than I thought fair. It didn’t give me a sporting chance to utter the first word and take control of the conversation.
“P.VJ!” he exclaimed, a little too loudly.
I nodded, tried to smile, and moved closer.
“Mr. Ratherquite, I–”
“So, my boy,” he continued, “are you looking forward to today’s speech? I am. And…” Here he turned towards the other lady. “And so is this fabulous lady.”
The corpulent lady giggled. And then she actually said something.
“It is a pity the other lady isn’t here.”
“Oh yes,” Mr. Ratherquite agreed. “I wonder where she’s at.”
The professor took a deep breath. “That’s what I’m here to talk to you about. You see…”
And that’s when Daddy Salami appeared–not literally, of course. But he did seem to come from nowhere.
“Hehaha. What ya curs doin’?”
“Actually,” Mr. Ratherquite said, “we were wondering what happened to our dear red-haired lady.”
Salami thought for a moment, and then said, “I bet she fell off a cliff and died.” And then he laughed.
“Sir!!!” Mr. Ratherquite hollered. “You should not say such things!”
I tried to say something. “Perhaps–”
“I just met her out in the hall,” Salami said. “She was wondering where you was. Said P.VJ told her you were in the facility. I told her P.VJ was lyin’. I told her you was by Gordon’s Drop. So ya see, she could have fallen off a cliff by now. Hehaha.”
Needless to say, Mr. Ratherquite and the corpulent lady rushed out of the hall in search of the red-haired lady.
I returned to my seat and passed a boring show, play, or speech. (At the end, I still wasn’t absolutely sure what it was.)
But I still feel guilty about the proceedings. Was the professor very wicked?