Chapter 15: Sisal Ascent

“Froggy got off a corker last night.”

Ms. Sloane smiled, “Oh?”

“What’s the difference between mashed potatoes and pea soup?”

“Anyone can mash potatoes.”

“You heard it?”

“In third grade.”

“Oh.”

As per his habitual habit, yrs. truly was modest re: the Gibraltar Triumph. “Piece of cake, Trish. Of course Ms. Sloane was helpful. Rather useful, in fact.”

In our basement Lair, The McGovern had me in one hand, Froggy in the other, working -- with her favorite vanilla lubricant -- her up-and-down magic, “You weren’t nervous, Brewster?”

“Au contrary, bon ami. Professionality, you know.”

“Gosh, I’m ever so proud. How did the Q and A go?”

“Swimmingly.” Then — Tell The Truth being the personal Birdie Motto — I added, “I let Ms. Sloane handle that part. She’s young and needed the experience.”

Trish glanced at me, but just nodded.

Froggy said, “When,” and Trish bent down, took him in her mouth. That paused our chinwag for a mo. or two.

It was another one of Trish’s Rules — say “When” when it’s time, and she’ll mouth-accommodate you. Not that Froggy and I have any say in the writing of, nor the enforcement thereof, The Rules.

And sometimes you don’t even know a Rule is a Rule until Trish Rules it. One day, after school, eons ago, she unveiled a new look, southern region-wise.

Froggy and I ... gaped, I believe is the proper descriptive. When Trish first introduced Doctor’s Office, none of the principle players had what can be best described as pubic hair. Then we did.

Now, suddenly, with zero warning, Trish didn’t.

“Close your mouths, boys, it’s just my porno look. Like it?”

Mute nodding.

“Good. You’re next, Brewster.” She handed Froggy the necessaries — lather and scissors and whatnot. He stared at me, I stared back.

The McGovern clapped her hands sharply; she doesn’t like to be kept waiting.

Well, Froggy started off a little shaky. I hissed, “Be careful!” Trish seconded the emotion.

So, Trish’s new look, Froggy’s puttering around in private property areas ... the inevitable happened.

“Looking good, Brewster! Froggy, take care of it.”

“Huh?”

“Huh?”

This New Rule was something like ‘you break it, you buy it,’ except those weren’t the exact words that Trish used. The basic algorithm, as Froggy and I deciphered it, was ‘you cause it, you cure it.’ Although in civilian life, that ‘break it’ policy has caused me to misfrequent certain touchy stores.

It was, after we digested the gist of it, a reasonably fair Rule. Froggy got into it more than I ever did, but fair is fair. And, as always, I remain true to my personal Birdie Motto — Be Fair.

I wish I could say it was what the astrophysicists call an unattended consequence, but in looking-back retrospection, I believe The McGovern had anticipated the Great Gym Opera Buffa.