his face. In addition, the old hag Fear was screaming and shrieking with maniacal laughter as she climbed hand over hand up his backbone.
Charlie jumped to his feet.
The headwaiter moved back a couple steps with his tongue snapping to the back of his mouth like a coiled spring. He stood there in front of Charlie not sure what to do.
Charlie was breathing deep and fast. A little tinge of pink was climbing up from his collar to his chin. Down deep inside, old man Temper was stripped down to his shorts with boxing gloves and was going on the third round with Reason who was putting up a good fight too.
Taking a big breath, Charlie blurted out, Dad blast it! I cant get em out! I cant cuss a dad blasted word! All that trouble and I still cant cuss!
The other diners were looking in Charlies direction, curiosity tearing at their faces.
The headwaiter began fumbling with the menu. He was having trouble keeping his feet pointing forward as he squeaked, And you better not Sir. If you do, Ill&Ill call the manager. That is what Ill do! And Ill have you inspected&I&I mean ejected!
The pink tinge was fast turning to a light scarlet and had reached Charlies ear tips. Old man Temper was punching Reason with a combination repeatedly. If Reason did not get a glove up and a torrent of word to fight Temper, it was going to be bad for Reason.
Charlie waved his arms and almost shouted, I didnt mean I couldnt cuss in here! I meant I couldnt cuss anywhere much less in this dad blasted burp-taurant! I just cant cuss! Cuss the dad blasted cussing anyhow.
The waves of laughter coming from the other diners sounded to Charlies ears like the booming and crashing of a storm maddened surf mixed with the barbed lightning of feminine shrieks of hilarity.
Charlies head was beginning to feel like a red-hot boiler that was about to explode. Making a quick lung, he grabbed the large pitcher of water and ice cubes.
The headwaiter gave Charlie a startled look and then ran screaming toward the back of the dining room, Mr. Finglefoot! Mr. F-i-n-g-l-e-f-o-o-t!
Charlie paid little attention to him. He just held the pitcher over his head and slowly tipped it to pour over his head. He slowly emptied the pitcher over his head. Then he sat the pitcher on the table, started toward the door and flicked an ice cube out of the fold of his lapel pocket. He didnt notice that the ice cube bounce on a table then bounced right down the cleavage of an old biddy who screamed.
Charlie paid no attention. He continued to stalk out of the restaurant still steaming but gradually cooling off, as he got closer to the street.
When he got back on the sidewalk, he saw the same newsy that sold him the newspaper. He was hawking his papers near the curb.
The boy looked over Charlie for a second then said, Gee, ya sure did get soaked in that place didnt cha Mr.?
Charlie began laughing to himself as he turned in the direction of a hamburger stand a few blocks up the street.
About nine the next morning, Charlie was in his blue pajamas sitting on the living room floor with his jacket open. Every light in the room was blazing. Every book in the house surrounded him. Several of the books were laying open on the flour and chairs.
Holding a pencil between his teeth, he had both hands busy jumping the pages of two big books on his lap. After making a note on one of his notebooks, he rested his chin on one hand. The other hand guided the pencil on safari in the depths of the jungle of hair on his chest. Dad blast it! Theres a reason I cant cuss. There must be. There has to be! Why is it that I can think of them but cant get em past my vocal cords?
A passing pain hit him in the pit of the stomach as the thought of Docs warning and possible failure crossed his mind. However, the thought and pain were quickly banished.
Charlie stood up, stretched and began to enjoy the fresh gentle breeze coming through the open window. He was hoping that it would help ease his roaring headache.
After turning all the lights off, he walked into the kitchen. He took a couple of aspirin tablets and gulped a cup of self-brewed coffee. Charlie made a frown at the taste, but still felt this wifes hastily decided vacation had its good points.
Back in the living room, Charlie stretched out on the couch under the window and let the breeze lull him to sleep.
Sometime later, he heard someone tapping on the front door with a hard object. It awakened Charlie. He refused to open his eyes. Instead, he asked, Who is it? What do you want?
The strange voice sounded like it was an inch from his ear and talking fast. You are one of the first to see a mechanical servant that can do anything! It can sharpen your knives, polish your shoes and wax your floors. It can do almost anything! Almost anything sir!
Charlie opened one eye to see where the voice was originating. All he could see was a black hairline mustache doing a rumba over the two rows of bleached tombstones hanging above the windowsill.
Another dad blasted salesman, Charlie thought. He got up and walked over to the screen door.
When they met on opposite sides of the door, Charlie looked down at a butter like face that was holding the mustache about five foot, five inches off the floor. Charlie said, Look Buster, can that thing cuss?
Well&no, at least I dont think so that is. I never heard it cuss.
The salesman started to open the screen door. Perhaps during the demonstration we can get it to cuss. It can do everything else. Let me show& The salesman started to walk inside.
Whoa Buster, I dont need that mechanical monster. Why dont you go bother my neighbor the inventor? He might find it amusing.
Charlie turned to go back to the couch.
However, the salesman tugged at his pajama top sleeves and halted him. But how do you know that you dont want it? You havent seen it in action. It will only take a minute of your time.
Cant you take a polite no for an answer?
The salesman smiled. Often no can mean yes after a demonstration.
Charlie shook his head. Buster you have a thick head. No means no demonstration.
But sir, it will make your wifes work much easier. And if she is in a better mood it might be better for you.
Charlie almost snarled. Youre putting me in a foul mood. Take that contraption and beat it!
Youll be kicking yourself if you miss this deal. It will be the best thing you ever bought.
Charlie was losing patience fast. Hold it buster! Dont you think youve pressured me enough? Why dont you be a good fellow and beat it before I take that machine and use it for a sledgehammer to rivet your teeth to your toenails?
The salesman smiled. Ah ha, must not get mad now. I know you would like it if you had one in your house. And all the neighbors that did not have one would be jealous. What do you say, want to see more?
Each time the salesman refused to leave and gave a reason why he shouldnt, it dropped a tumbler into place on the vault door of Charlies chamber of anger horrors.
The salesman seemed startled when he saw the beginnings of a scarlet light glowing in he depths of the matt of hair on Charlies chest. Looking closely he asked, What in the world have you gotten in that mattress stuffing on your chest. Is it a clever lighting effect for other ape chested apes?
Molten fury roared through Charlies arteries and tore down through his arms to dam up in a raging caldron of anger in his clenched fists. Cuss words were jamming into his chest with no outlet. He began to hear ambulance sirens screaming through the tortured corridors of his mind. Charlies huge chest filled with air. Then his came from near his knee and slammed into his chest. It sounded like a steel battering ram striking the side of an empty battleship. Baaroom!
This is my chest you clatter witted, gabble speaking, gush mouthed, pitch pitching, skunkified, leech headed, diddle brained, gum clanking, gibber spouting, gobble tonsiled, porch clattering, shekel grabbing gypskate!
Unconsciously Charlie swung the other fist like an angry gorilla against his chest, Baaroom! You palate pounding, turkey voiced
, frazzled faced, sucker seeking, bellowing peddler of animated swizzle sticks. You animated tongued, meaning mangling&
Charlies world had burnt its wheels off to the hubs coming to a brick wall stop. In a tomblike silence a thought clicked into place, then another and another, click-clickjackpot! Then it sounded like a group of wildcats was fighting under the front porch.
Eeee-oww-ee! I know how to cuss! Eeee-oww-ee! I know how to get them out of me! Do you hear?
Not hearing an answer Charlie looked for his audience. He was gone. Then Charlie saw scorch marks on the porch. He followed them with his eyes to the deep gouge marks in one of the porch posts, right up to the ceiling where he found his audience clutching his machine tight to his breast. The man had his porch roof pushed off the post a good four inches. He was shaking like a drunken hula dancer. His teeth sounded like the testing room of a castanet factory.
Charlie squinted one eye and jacked up the eyebrow above the other eye as he looked up. He made sweeping and beckoning motions with his arms ending with beating both of them on his chest like a bull ape. Come on down out of there you post scrambling, Bunco spieling, wordy word peddler before I yank that callous peppered, swivel hinged, bull battered tongue of yours down around your Adams apple until your eyeballs play pop goes the weasel.
The salesman seemed to be reluctant to come down on the porch. Instead, he jumped to the lawn and tore holes in it trying to get his footing, before Charlie pounced on
Charlie Needs A Cussbomb Page 3
