07-032
The Next Robert Benchley
Per your search
for the next Robert Benchley, I would like to apply. I don’t know what you did
with the first one, though assuming you followed all appropriate environmental
and regulatory standards, I don’t care. As long as you aren’t making the same
plans for his replacement.
Like RB — a
distinguished gentleman needs a snappy moniker like “RB” — I am tall, lithe,
and ruggedly handsome, unless of course he was short, fat, and ruggedly
handsome, in which case I can slouch. I’d be more precise about my striking
resemblance — no doubt you want precision in your Rob (or in striking anyone) —
but I can’t find a photograph of him in his books. It shouldn’t be hard to
throw one in. His mug shots must be lying around somewhere. I suppose I could
read Robby’s little “humor” pieces on the chance he described himself in one of
them, but there are so many. (Did Bobbo ever get help with that work-ethic
problem?) Anyway no one reads nowadays, and I’m sure you’re looking for a
modern R-Bench, which iz me, 4 real, yo. Unless you’d like a classic Robert. If
so, twenty-three skidoo, I’m your bees knees.
Speaking of
animals, Mr. B sounds like the type who would have a dog, and by coincidence,
so do I. Unfortunately he — Ol’ Blue, not Ol’ Bench — manifests a temporary
corporeal absence from the old manse, but not to worry. There are plenty of
mutts on leashes outside the local java den that could be him. Or her. Should
you feel the need to verify, my cherished pet will likely be back soon. He —
dear Benchie, not dear doggie — probably wore tweed too, smoked a pipe, and
gardened. I’m also tweedy, smoky, and seedy.
I understand
there’s a family: children, grandchildren, love children, etc. If necessary,
I’ll adopt them, along with any pawnable goods and erotic scrimshaw. Though
having a son older than me might be awkward, on the plus side, we can skip the
birds-&-bees chat.
I’d appreciate
the cash prize in small, unmarked bills. (By the way, I don’t mean to tell you
your business — unless being pushy was another endearing Roberto trait — but
you ought to make it clearer that you offer a cash prize. I couldn’t find a
single word about it in your material. I wouldn’t even be applying except,
oozing sophistication like Bobby-baby, I know that no one would be dim enough
to hold a contest without a cash prize.) You can leave the scratch in a plaid
valise by the curb. I’ll get it.
As a token of my
appreciation to the wise, gifted, and undoubtedly lovely contest judge, please
pass along the small envelope, attached with C-clamps. It merely contains an
‘umble note of thanks. Nothing else. No need to look inside. Just send it on.
Signed, R.
Terhune Benchley. (The middle name’s a nice touch, isn’t it? I’m confident that
we, Terhune, would approve.)