Fictionlet
Greg scribbled a note onto his pad. “Okay, so they’re at the fort, right? John Wayne has come riding up and told the Captain that his sister has been captured by the hostile Indians.”
“Mmmhmm…” replied Brigid, sounding wary.
“The Captain turns to his aide, a young George Custer, and says, ‘Quick, Mister Custer, muster the roster!'”
Brigid shook her head. “Ouch.”
Greg nodded sagely. “I know. What a waste of an opportunity.”
“Opportunity?” said Brigid, blinking.
“Well, yeah,” said Greg. “If they were going to go that route, they should have had the Captain and his aide running to the bugler, so the Captain could say, ‘Faster, Mister Custer, we must muster the roster to save his sister!'”
Brigid put her hand to her forehead wearily. “Okay, that’s it. You’ve just had all your talking-to-me priveleges revoked.”
Greg didn’t seem to hear her, however. “Sister? Blister? Twister? Maybe they should have worked a tornado into it somewhere.”
-The Gneech
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