My Viridian Rose

Right about that time Mary came running up. “Mr. Muggeridge… I’ve been looking for you everywhere. The television crew wants to ask some questions, and the Schuhsplatten people are telling them a lot of false information, and got some Fribourgeois on the camera lens. It won’t come off, but they’re trying to wipe it with a tattered old rubber thing. Mr. McIlhenny was practicing his Sousaphone really loud next to Mrs. Wilmore, and now she is afraid her poodle won’t be able to do the Havarti Gavotte Dance; you know the one with her parakeet around the Chinese parasol. The poodle keeps snapping at the Schuhplatten’s lederhosen, or dirndl, or something… and the parakeet is now stuck inside one of the double bells on the euphonium. Mrs. Pimplefester’s beside herself, and is now afraid to blow on it. She’s over there singing some kind of yodeling song to coax it out of there. Oh, and Mr. McIlhenny stepped in Mrs. Van Crotchet’s accordion case; it kind of all flattened out. That‘s how Guy twisted his ankle… Sousaphone fell on his leg. Dr. Meisner came back and looked at it; thinks it‘s just a bad sprain.” Mr. Muggeridge and Mary walked back to the stage area, while the play by play continued for the next fifteen minutes. Wendell was not really able to get a word in edgewise. The Talent Show did start on time, of course with the singing of the “National Anthem” by Mrs. Fortina. She sang opera at one time for the Sheboygan Symphony Association, and her voice was still quite good… even at her late age. Unfortunately, her wig was a little off kilter, and kind of looked like a sickly wolverine. Her vibrato would give into a high pitch whine whenever she tried to adjust the front of it. Actually… it did turn out to be a genuine wolverine, as Mrs. Fortina was notorious for being rather nearsighted. Animal Rescue was called. Although, I think once she stopped singing… the poor thing revived rather quickly; jumped off her head and bolted for the nearby woods. I must say that all the acts during the first half of the show ended up doing quite well. The judges seemed rather impressed with this year’s talent. Opening the second half were the Pimplefester’s, and they were truly on their game. They had even brought their own cheering section from the St. Adalbert League of Polka Cheese Recovery Anonymous. Mr. McIlhenny was next, and I don’t think there was a dry eye in the house when he took to the stage. His solo rendition of “Danny Boy” on the Sousaphone was quite moving, although it was a little annoying that he had stepped in a big wad of Auntie Ingadinker’s Muenster flavored saltwater taffy. It threw his tempo off somewhat, but it enhanced the performance by giving it a kind of high stepping River dance feel. A number of the Scottish Rite Brigade ceremoniously stood up when McIlnhenny started stomping around, and they ended up graciously saluting during the entire performance (of course, the crowd was thrilled when they were treated to an impromptu encore of McIlhenny‘s “Highland Fling,” with a tossin’ of the cabers thrown in). Unfortunately, one of the errant cabers smacked Mr. McIlhenny’s prized Sousaphone at the exact moment he hit his world famous “low d flat;” putting a rather serious dent in the bell. Well… Angus Dunmore McIlhenny was known for a rather blistering temper. When he observed the ill-fated damage, he was so furious that he yanked the bell completely off, and threw it at the fellow Scot and perpetrator. The caber tosser had rather good reflexes; he judiciously ducked, which caused the flying implement to strike Lucretia Pimplefester in the forehead. Lucretia was knocked out cold, while Schlank stood over her; fanning her with a big round of Fribourgeois and his lederhosen. In the meantime… Guy saw all of this; panicked, and jumped up onto the center of the stage. He grabbed the microphone away from McIlhenny, and asked if there was a doctor in the house. Well… little did he know that this was the cue for Duke to enter for his grand finale. Duke Catterung surmised this was his year to really milk the spotlight of a television newscast, and to really top it off he planned to do his trick blindfolded. In he came… sprinting, and with a full head of steam. Duke waltzed across the stage; blindly tossed the basketball in the air about 30 feet as he began his skyward ascent. It was right about that time that Pimplefester decided it was the appropriate moment for retribution. He wrapped that bell of the Sousaphone in his lederhosen and girdle, spun around a few times and threw it with all of his might back towards McIlhenny, who was still standing on the far end of the stage. Well… the Sousaphone bell overshot; smacking the basketball in its downward travel. The beautiful thing was that Catterung had lost none of his step over the years. He grabbed that bell in mid-flight; double pumped, and sent it down the heart of the rim. Catterung hung there for a lengthy amount of time clutching the lederhosen and girdle, to loud peals of delight from the entire crowd. Mrs. Pimplefester was administered some smelling salts and Fribourgeois, and ultimately did become conscious (although she did have a large “C.G. Conn” welt on her forehead for many days afterwards). The dispute between the warring parties was settled by giving the Schuhsplatten act the prize cup (I believe some award winning Cambozola and leftover Pumpernickel changed hands as well, and a couple of box seats to the Wautowma Historia Society’s Pageant). In the meanwhile, Duke’s picture was picked up by UPI, and went out all over the country.