Saturday, July 01, 2017

Miz Hoopshawe


Dibble McFenster said...

"Miz Hoopshawe! Miz Hoopshawe! Yew done drapped yer purse! I gots it right here!" Pauly Moscantino called, running after the imperiously tall figure as she half-strode, half-marched up the street.

She wheeled around on him and pulled her sequined glasses down to the end of her knife-edge nose. Her eyes darted about, perusing his very being as if he were a bug for which she had to go in search of a rolled-up newspaper.

"Young sir, that is def'nitely ain't my purse. I done gots my purse right under my this-here arrum. Are you deaf?"

She then turned on her sensibly flat heels and half-stalked, half-sashayed away down the street. With a bit of a harrumph.

Pauly Moscantino stared at the purse in his hand and wondered what being deaf had to do with anything at all.

'I ain't not neither,' he thought to himself.

Jay King said...

Young sir: You half-parlayed, half-spun that tale as if it were your owen when clearly it was taken from Flannery Faulkner or some such dixie-ish scribe. I could tell by the 'this-here arrum' and your use of 'drapped' and 'a bit of a harrumph.' You are sure to visited upon by the dialectical po-lice any day now. May your sentence be long and harsh.

Dibble McFenster said...

Dog my cats. An' all this time I thunk I wuz bein' in-floonced by Walt Kelly. Flannery Faulkner, eh? Is you sure it warn't Kentucky O'Neill?

Jay King said...

Kaintuck never produced nothin but tobacky, not no arthurs, anyways. You must be thinkin of Tinnessee Penn Warren. And that O'Neill feller's from New Yawk City of all places. I can tell name's aint yer strong point. I imagine you yerself was named for the flatfoot what patrolled the alleyways of whatever city it was where Top Cat, Benny the Ball and the rest of that troublesome feline gang congregated. Prolly the same city where Pauly Moscantino's from. Sounds kinda cosa nostric to me.

Dibble McFenster said...

Naw, naw, Cosa Nostrick's from Philly-somekinda delfic place. My boy Kelly hailed from Bridgeport Connettykit, or some such norther place. That's good enuff fer me. As to my Skottish heritaige, whut of it? All yer Wilums and Falnerish folks come from the Heights, and I don't mean north o'Kavanaugh. Another Highland name. Yew? Yer a KING! Just whut in the hail does that mean to an Apple Achin' type? We done farmed them stones till there weren't nothin BUT stones.

Seems kinda stupid to me, now that I think about it.

And yeah, Pauly does have a cat whut wears a flat-top chap-po. Does that count? Benny Ball's a couple o' blocks over, from whut I hears. Don't know no flatfoot by my name, tho. Officer McFenster? Never herd of him.

Jay King said...

Dibble, Dibble. AKA Dribble, Dabble, Drubble.

Dibble McFenster said...

Oh, I knows HIM. But he ain't no McFenster. I wuz pers'nully named fer my folk in the lower Windham Hills, where they ran a alehouse back in the early days. Grew their own hops, they did. Corrupted a few good young minds at that alehouse, frum whut I hears. Dibble's Hopyard, it was knowed as. But that wuz way back when. Now its a stay-ut park up in them lower Windham Country hills up in Connetykit. Called Devil's Hopyard. Screwed up the fambly name, I kin say that much.

No cop named McFenster, tho. Oh, sure, T.C. had run-ins with The Dibble Cop. But frum whut I heared, ol' T.C. us'ully came out on top.
P'rhaps that's wur he got the moniker.

He had a cousin I think. 'Exit, stay-uge right...' or some such thing. That wuz whut he often said. Wild one, that. Some sort o' actor.. Sometimes wore the same flat chap-po. Fam'ly thing, I guess.

Jay King said...