And so Judge Patrick continues, "And so with your support, I have brought order and a degree of prosperity to this fair Township to the benefice of all. Stability is something this Township of ours has found wanting ever since the days of its founding when it received the moniquer of, Weener-Man."
I shrug and say in aside, "The Weener-Man probably sort of think it’s neat."
Judge Patrick looks down from the hickory stump, "What’s that, Son?"
A hush rolls over the assemblage, "You dare question the Judge’s guesstamate?" someone whispers.
Perhaps a bit suprised, I try to explain, "I was just trying to point out that if you were HM Weenerman, you’d probably sort of like the Township name."
A gasp breaks out over the crowd, "A subversive in our midst," another person remarks.
"Naw," a memeber of the chorus speaks up, "He can’t be a subversive, I’ve heard him sing."
"I only ever sing the national anthem at ball games," I point out.
"I’ve heard you sing at the ball games," the piano player from one of the local churches speaks up, "And you can’t be a subversive, you don’t even handle the regular versive very well."
Actually Judge Patrick has been regarding all of this with an amused look upon his features, "Wellll," he says generously, "Just what the Annual Debate has needed for years; a Rebuttal Witness."
"But, But," I retry to rebut, as unseen hands gve me a friendliously mischeivious push out to the front.