After the Snippee’s trap was set there wasnt’ much else to do but go our seperate ways and await the results.
The next day, Sunday found all of us Cronies and other assorteds from about the Topwnship down in front of the HickTown Gas Station, looking through comic books, drtinking pop, or just getting a few winks.
in the Backround the Service from one of the churches provided the backround music.
The church-piano player and a friend were wlalking home from their chuyrch service.
The friend took one look at the Cronies, shakes her head, and goes, “Tssk, Tssk.”
“Now Mildred, they are in the Barny Bum Pew,” the Church Piano-Player expllains to her friend< “No needs for any Tssks.”
“I know they are,”M ildred says with a frown, “But where’s the Weenerman?”
The Church iano Player looks over and looks for the Weenerman, “Tssk,Where is HM?”
Us Cronie slook around real quick and sure enough, no Weenerman.
Mildred taps her foot impatiently.
Fearing another Tssk, I come up with, “I think he’s out at his Farm, working.”
“Today?” the Church-piano player asks with shock.
but Mildred’s lower lip starts to quver and then she breaks out laughing, “Working? I can’t imagine HM Weenerman doing that ,” Mildred says between laughs, “Today, or any Day for thawt matter.”
By now the church-piano player is having her laughter too, “Say,” when between laughs, “You ought to tell that one down at the Quilter’s Guild, the Girl’s will love it.”
“Can’t write Comedy better than that,” Midred tells the piano player as the two saunter off still inthe grasp of hilarity.