‘I feel Terrible,’ Deasy told Clancy, as each sat quietly at the local favorite barroom, clad in a handsome Sweatshirt.
‘Someone has just recently reminded me that 1980 is now as far away from this year as 1939 was from 1980.’
As this ever so nightmarishly horrific reality took its time sinking in, each pretended to wipe makeshift tears from his brow with a three Ply handkerchief.
‘You know, old fellow,’ Clancy said. ‘Ever since God, in his infinite sense of humor, first chose to Inflict this most obnoxious friendship upon us, (He picked up a handful of Organic popcorn and continued his spiel) we’ve shared all kinds of joys and sorrows from most splenid successes to most Terrible Vulgarity. ‘ (Each gave the other fellow quite a playful Jostle).
‘Yeah,’ Deasy said, ‘But one thing we can’t nobody Bluff his way out of is answering to time. Regardless how many Butterflies a fellow may kick out of his stomach, or how many Feathers he may accumulate in his cap, old happens.
Each of the boys then succumbed to a most helpless involuntary Longing for his once dashing, dapper, and handsome Face.