Well, sir, it's early evening as our scene opens now.
And here in the living room of the small house halfway up in the next block, we find Mr.
and Mrs. Victor Gooke.
Vic has been talking on the telephone the last quarter hour and has only just this moment
replaced the receiver on the hook.
And he seems upset.
Listen.
He was patronizing.
He even condescended.
Ha ha.
Maybe you have some literature on it you could drop in the mail and I'd find time to grab
a glance over, he says.
Oh.
Literature.
Does he think we print advertisements?
I was afraid he'd...
He'd find time to glance over.
How do you like that?
I was afraid...
By the big gap, sounds like he thought there wasn't any more to obtaining membership in
the Sacred Stars of the Milky Way than walking up and buying a ticket.
Did you follow him out?
Ah?
You didn't holler at him.
I hardly opened my trap.
Oh, that's good.
See, he doesn't realize...
I was stunned.
I was understruck.
Maybe you have some literature on the club you could drop in the mail and I might find
time to glance over, he says.
I was afraid...
A club, he called it.
A club, mind you.
The Sacred Stars of the Milky Way, he called it a club.
Ha ha ha.
Fred just don't understand about such things, Vic.
I'll say he don't.
He's worked hard all his life.
That's no excuse.
I was afraid this would come up.
Why?
Well, you know, I heard that he was going to join the Sacred Stars of the Milky Way.
I heard that.
I heard that he was going to join the Sacred Stars of the Milky Way.
I heard that.
And that's the same thing that he said a year or so ago.
What was that?
I don't know but what I might let myself be talking to join in Vic's Lodge.
Is that what he said?
Just about that.
Our founder, R.J.
Conk ought to be turning over in his grave.
I never heard anything so ignorant.
Like that big fat head.
The more I think about it, the madder I get.
Here we have a great secret brotherhood over 75 years old.
A brotherhood of men chained tightly together with shackles of brightest gold.
A brotherhood born in the highest concepts of honor, ambition, courage, progress, ideals,
chivalry, art, beauty.
You really?
And some lame brain.
Pipsqueak allows that maybe he might let himself be talked into joining that brotherhood.
Good evening, lady.
Well, I'm coming.
Why do I stand here?
Why don't I go paste a one upside a snoot?
Here's Uncle Fletcher.
I've known all along, Fred.
The stem bottom was the nitwit, of course, but it's hard to realize the depths of his
ignorance to actually reach.
Well, you home too, Vic.
Drop him some literature.
I'll drop him some literature.
How are you, Uncle Fletcher?
First rate, Franks.
Glorious evening.
He is.
Fred's heard me talk about the lodge.
Surely he must know it isn't anything a guy can just walk up and join.
Is that a fact, Vic?
Well, like my landlady was saying at the supper table tonight.
He must know that you have to submit an application and then be voted on.
That it's a process that takes weeks.
And there's hard work to be done.
Lessons to be learned.
No, I don't think he realizes that.
Hello, Uncle Fletcher.
Hello, Vic.
Say, I stopped past Cully Morris's gas station on my way over here.
Why don't he realize it?
I've talked about it enough times when he and Ruthie were playing cards with it.
You appreciate how Fred is, Vic.
He listens to himself talk, but he don't pay much attention to anybody else.
Remember Ernie Salkers and Bubba, dear Sadie?
Why, just the other evening.
I must have proliferated at least a quarter of an hour on the subject.
I described how a class of lodge candidates in Ohio had half of their number to get black
balls.
I told about three fellows that wanted to belong to the Sacred Stars of the Milky Way
so much they wept when they got turned down.
I remember amplifying the story.
Went into details.
Where was Fred?
I guess he just wasn't paying attention.
Why wasn't he paying attention?
I was the host.
Ain't people supposed to listen to the host when he's talking?
I'm just finding out about that big ox.
Remember Ernie Salkers and Bubba, dear Vic?
Why when I wanted to belong to the Sacred Stars of the Milky Way, my application was
turned down three separate and distinct times before they'd take me.
There's a case on record of a chap in Missouri that tried fruitlessly for 20 years, and he
never did make it.
And Mr. Frederick Stembottom, the hot shot half-wit from the foundry, says maybe if I
send him some literature, he might possibly let himself be taught into joining.
You people may laugh.
Let me get volume seven out of my large library and see what it says on the matter.
Oh gee, Vic, I wouldn't let myself get too upset.
No, not at all.
Can't you just charge it up to Fred's ignorance?
Sure.
And then forget it?
Let's see what volume seven says.
Remember Ernie Salkers and Bubba, dear Sadie?
No, I don't, Uncle Fletcher.
Ernie Salkers was accused of marrying a woman 35 years old.
Was he?
Because gee, it'd be too bad if somebody's silliness made us break up or anything.
How do you mean, break up or anything?
Well, we see so much of Fred and Ruthie, play so much cards and everything, you know.
Be just awful if we...
You know in what a steam I hold my large saying, it's one of the biggest things in my life.
Yes, but still...
Just a second, I'll read you a few revealing passages from volume seven.
Ernie Salkers, Sadie, was accused of marrying a woman 35 years old.
She was accused wrong because the woman was 46.
I knew the woman myself.
She went under the name of Dala Fusco.
Oh really?
Well, and another thing please don't forget is that Fred...
Here we are.
This is something in my tooth.
What?
I believe it has got something in my tooth.
No, but all that off to one side, forgiven and forgotten.
To finish this story about Ernie Salkers, he got disgusted with the whole works and lost
his hands of it.
I have been accused of marrying a woman 35 years old, he told the boys.
That woman has produced a birth certificate proving her to be 46.
My name is cleared.
I can look any man in the face.
But, says Ernie, I'm sick and tired of the whole business.
I'm leaving town.
And he did.
Moved to Dallas, Arizona and got a good product for darkening the hands and feet.
Put work to enjoy his money and later died.
But, uh, fine.
Want to listen to a little of this?
Why?
Membership in the sacred stars of the Milky Way is a precious amulet to be worn gloriously
through life.
Our founder, R.J.
Conk, has said, in total non-cum-lawed apoboist gank, sim-spittle ad nauseam agri-cola-feech,
I'm the agarice-s-divisie in-cuz-fidey-spinny-z-yach-dumb-cuck-ing-ad-a-p-k-e-d-e-d-y-t.
Well, don't you ever read that to me, Vic.
Ha?
You know, a book to me don't help the situation.
I popped some popcorn last night.
Did your Uncle Fletcher?
H.K.
Huckerman and myself.
Tastes good, did it?
Tastes fine.
That's nice.
Tastes so good, bye George, H.K.
Huckerman and myself.
Uh-huh.
Fred's been stupid and made you mad and I can understand why and don't blame you a bit.
But it seems to me we're out of time.
Do you think you can join the sacred stars of the Milky Way just like you'd walk up to
the ticket window and buy a ticket for the movie show?
Yes, he does think that.
It's taken me all this while to find out about that bird.
We've spent a good deal of time with Fred and Ruthie the last seven, eight years, Vic.
Too much.
Hundreds of evenings.
Ha-ha.
Sam McWaschak, right?
And they've been pleasant evenings.
Wouldn't it be too bad to end such a nice friendship just over something silly that's
all Fred's fault and none of yours?
Hmm.
It's a good thing you're not so bad to me like you could afford to laugh.
I don't laugh with the largest concern, Sadie.
Sam McWaschak, Aaron Dixon, Sadie.
Yes, Uncle Fletcher, excuse me.
Sam McWaschak, Aaron Dixon, used to claim he could play a cornet from the long end.
Oh?
Instead of holding the mouthpiece up to his mouth, he'd blow through the end that flares
out where ordinary music comes from.
Well.
He just claimed that.
I never saw a half-wit do it.
Yeah, that's nice.
Uh-huh.
Very nice.
Yes.
Couldn't you afford to laugh at Fred Vicks?
I don't laugh with Elijah's concern.
Well, I mean under the circumstances.
But let me tell you what the half-wit said over the telephone.
You did tell me.
Uh-huh.
Another Dixon fellow caused a good deal of trouble.
I don't think you need to be worried about Fred's actually trying to join the lodge.
Sadie, another Dixon fellow caused a...
Because as soon as he realizes all the formality he has to go through, the applications and
voting and studying and memorizing stuff and all that, he'll lose interest.
I know you'll lose interest.
Sadie, another Dixon fellow...
And then there's the money part.
When he finds out what the initiation fee is, he'll stop right now.
And he was telling Ruthie the other day, one thing he positively refused to do was wear
a funny suit.
Funny suit?
Lodge, regalia.
Oh, he told Ruthie that, did he?
Yeah.
Another Dixon fellow, Sadie.
He said he'd be willing to devote one evening a week to sitting around the club room playing
a game of checkers and maybe munching on solid peanuts, but he wouldn't be interested in
putting on robes and bothering with any tyrants and ceremonies.
And so you see, he's not really interested in the lodge.
Sadie, another Dixon fellow...
He won't give beans for the lodge.
Sadie, another Dixon fellow...
Why should you get upset?
Can't you just forget about it?
Sadie, another...
We'll go along just as we have been.
Isn't that better?
Sure, it's better.
Sadie.
Yes?
Yes, Uncle Fletcher?
What is it?
I believe I'll go home.