“Dear Reader,” dictated Ignatius as Myrna struggled to keep up, pen scratching on the rough paper of the Big Chief tablet propped on her lap. “If you are fortunate enough to be perusing this entry in the original monograph, you will of course have noticed that this is not the elegant hand of Your Working Boy. Do not be alarmed by this. I have resorted to the use of an amanuensis rather than allow the often capricious workings of my valve to keep me trapped in silence -”
” ‘Silence’?!”, roared Myrna, “I WISH you’d be trapped in silence.”
And that’s as far as I got. Which is how I know I’m not destined to be a writer. I think they generally come up with more than 99 words before giving up. But it’s a wonderful idea and I wish SOMEBODY would write the rest of the story. After I.J.Reilly and M.Minkoff head off to NYC -what then, dear reader, what then?