81
" Your printers have made but one blunder,
Correct it instanter, and then for the thunder!
We'll see in a jiffy if this Mr S[pencer]
Has the ghost of a claim to be thought a good fencer.
To my vision his merits have still seemed to dwindle,
Since I have found him allied with the great Dr T[yndall]
While I have, for my part, grown cockier and cockier,
Since I found an ally in yourself, Mr L[ockyer]
And am always, in consequence, thoroughly willin',
To perform in the pages of Nature's M[acmillan]. "
― Peter Guthrie Tait
82
" Caleb dumped me on my birthday,
Before I’d ordered an entrée,
“What a dick!” some might say!
But don’t you worry my little sheep,
I am not sad and will not weep,
For Caleb Jones is a cheat!
He two-timed me with some ho,
Whose name is Kacey ‘Slut’ Munroe!
But I don’t care about my foe,
For I have found a brand new guy,
My Blue Eyed, Mr Berry Pie!
And I know, he won’t make me cry,
For I did fall under his spell,
To him, I am his gorgeous Belle,
So Caleb Jones can go to Hell! "
― Joanne McClean , Blue Eyes and Sweet Peach Pie
92
" Yes, sir, but the Librarian likes bananas, sir." " Very nourishin' fruit, Mr Stibbons." " Yes, sir. Although, funnily enough it's not actually a fruit, sir." " Really?" " Yes, sir. Botanically, it's a type of fish, sir. According to my theory it's cladistically associated with the Krullian pipefish, sir, which of course is also yellow and goes around in bunches or shoals." " And lives in trees?" " Well, not usually, sir. The banana is obviously exploiting a new niche." " Good heavens, really? It's a funny thing, but I've never much liked bananas and I've always been a bit suspicious of fish, too. That'd explain it. "
97
" In the kitchen Anna was quietly plotting to get rid of him. A brief talk, then she would contact the publisher and ask for someone more suitable. When she bore her best china cautiously back into the room she found him on his feet, examining things. 'Here we are,' she said, speaking drily, trying to call him back to his place.'Who's this guy?' Dick asked, staring at a happy, rounded man having his photograph taken on a boat with a huge fish at his feet.'That is my Uncle Max,' Anna said impatiently. 'Here is your coffee.''Great. I need a cup. Strong and black.' Dick was feeling his reckless self coming out: so what is she thinks I'm a scruff? Push some buttons and see what the old cow's made of.Anna regretted that he must place his stained body upon her newly-cleaned velvet. She was grateful for having no sense of smell.'Tell me what you have written, Mr Michaels?' He noticed the challenge.'All sorts of rubbish,' he said unhelpfully, wishing to add the word 'rubbish', but showing admirable restraint. 'I write anything that's required.' As he spoke he noticed an unrealised pride in his humble craft. 'I turn things into readable English so people will be interested. You see, not everyone who has had an interesting life knows how to make it sound good; that's my job.' He could see her expression soften. Something simian amid the fine features? 'I make a great effort not to change the original intention, of course...''You call that a ghost, I think?''Yeah. The ghost brings people's lives to life. "