This following story took place before my adventures with King Arthur at his castle. The twirly fighting stuff and getting knocked out, I suppose. Mr. Howell and I went to see Mr. Manahanny. And this is what happened.
So, this professor went with John W. Howell to see Mr.Manahanny. You know, the chap that runs Archiving News and is always trying to buy PT News.
I took John, see, ’cause he is trained on the witty and caustic comeback that might prove to be useful. Now here’s the thing: Mr. Manahanny is too arrogant for his own good and this arrogance is costing him money, so this professor decided to offer a buyout arrangement for Archiving News before it is driven out of business by the Manahanny arrogance. I thought it kind of me, see.
I called Mr. Manahanny to get an appointment but the person on the phone was hard of hearing. Dadblameit. We decided to simply drop in and put on our best imitation of gentlefolk. (Deception recommended by my cohort Mr. Howell, who is a great chap.)
Anyways and some, we went to the Manahanny building and invited ourselves to have a seat in the Manahanny office which was noticeable empty of Mr. Manahanny.
“You can’t be here,” said a person of small stature. “Mr. Manahanny does not see anyone without an appointment.”
“The exact arrogance we have noticed,” said Mr. Howell.
This made the professor glad he was along. He points things out like that, and it’s just super.
“But since we’re here,” said the professor, “please go and fetch Mr.Manahanny.”
The person scurried out of the office and I noticed Mr. Howell helping himself to a cup of coffee from Mr. Manahanny’s carafe.
“Care for a cup?” he said. The professor was glad to accept. After all, when one is offered it is polite to accept.
Mr. Manahanny came into the office and by the color of his face he was not pleased. He asked Mr. Howell to get off his chair; then he sat down with a huff.
Then he spoke up: “What are the people from PT News doing in my office?”
“Enjoying a cup of coffee,” this professor said. “In addition we have come to make you an interesting offer.”
“To leave immediately?” he said.
Mr. Howell then broke in asking if he could have more coffee. Mr. Manahanny was breathing in short gasps and appeared as if he was going to explode which would have ruined the beautiful carpet in his office. Imagine the mess, after all!
“Get out,” he screamed.
“I figured that’s what he would say,” said Mr. Howell. “Let’s take our millions and be gone.”
“Millions?” said Mr. Manahanny.
And now it was time to strike. “Yes, we have come to offer you a substantial amount for the worthless assets you call a newspaper.”
“Worthless? Where did you get that idea? Why, idiots, my paper is bigger than yours. You should know this, PVJ.”
“But you’re wrong, I fear,” I said.
Now it was time to be firm and factual, which are two diametrically opposite traits. “According to our records you are the most arrogant person on the planet. Your arrogance is costing you advertisers and we believe you only have one advertiser left. We don’t believe the Acme Tar Paving Company will be enough to save the paper.”
Mr. Manahanny slumped in his chair. It is obvious the professor was correct. “What is your offer?”
Mr. Howell stepped forward and handed Mr. Manahanny a paper on which we had inscribed the amount of our offer.
“This says one hundred dollars. You had mentioned millions.”
“A slight exaggeration. We think this amount will more than compensate you for the value of the paper.
“Before we leave you should reconsider. Here is another amount.”
“This says ninety dollars.”
Mr. Howell spoke up. “I would take it before it goes any lower.”
“My paper’s…failings…” Mr. Manahanny began, “are none of your concern! I have—”
“Not much of anything,” this professor said. “Your coffee is horrible.” And I threw it on the carpet. That’s what you do when you’re cranky, see.
Mr. Howell did the same.
Written with John W. Howell