Abnormal Occurrences Read Free Page B

of the mayor, who was noted for his puckish humor, and murmured in response to the paternal-sounding remarks made to him by the governor. He even swallowed a few bites of his chicken, which turned out to be better than, having heard such fodder routinely disparaged by those who ate it regularly, he expected. By the end of the meal he felt so at ease, in fact, that he was about to try a little joke of his own on the mayor, when John C. Nebling stood up behind the lectern that was mounted at the middle of the table and began to speak.
    Phipps of course understood nothing of what the big boss was saying, but he nodded here and there as if he did, and joined heartily in the applause that came when Nebling finished. But then in horror he saw Nebling beckoning to him. By the time he had at last struggled to his feet, hindered rather than aided by the governor’s powerful pats on the back, Phipps was so desperate he might have bolted from the room had Nebling, blocking the route of escape, not thrust a varnished plaque into his hands.
    He could not read the words that were incised into the bronze tablet affixed to its face, but eventually realized that he had been chosen as the Outstanding Executive of the Month—and obviously was obliged to say a few audible words of thanks...
    Then it occurred to him that he could say anything he wished to this roomful of influential citizens, for there had now been sufficient precedent to suppose that they would be received by the audience as at least meaningful enough.
    But when a simple “I had not expected this, but I’m pleased to receive it” was followed by deafening applause, and a reference to Nebling’s leadership as having been “an inspiration to himself and all his colleagues” evoked an explosion of laughter, he grew bold. “And, hey, you understand I’m speaking not of business but sex!” He looked at the boss and said, “You randy old bastard you.” To his ears this was gibberish, and it could hardly have been understood literally by those to whom it was addressed, for Nebling himself was still smiling benevolently.
    Feeling his oats, Phipps next turned to the mayor. “Your Honor—I use the title loosely, for you’ve proved in the last three years that whatever you have, it’s certainly not honor!” The mayor participated energetically in the general roar of laughter. Phipps went on, “But you’re not quite the Number One crook in this state. That designation has to go to this big smiling fraud on my right, our sainted governor, who spends more on hairspray than on our schools.”
    Phipps gestured at the official so named, and got a standing ovation. Then he proceeded to deride those who were celebrating him. “As for you idiots, you haven’t the dimmest understanding of what I am saying, have you? And I admit that the same thing is true of me: not only wouldn’t I comprehend anything said by you, but I can’t make sense of a word I myself utter aloud, though my thoughts are as rational as ever. I can’t explain this bizarre state of affairs, but since it’s come about I have been much more successful at work than I ever was before, and I suspect the same will be true of my love-life, which hitherto has been lackluster at best; at worst, humiliating. I don’t mind boasting that since I have accepted a world in which words make no sense, I have prospered, and I’m sure that if I go beyond that and enthusiastically embrace it, I shall be invincible!”
    Again the audience rose to its feet, and now it remained so, the applause reverberating from floor to chandelier. The mayor put Phipps in a bear hug, and the governor placed a hand on each of his shoulders and, looking down, irradiated him with the grandest smile of all. After each of the officials had said a few (incomprehensible) words from the lectern, gesturing lavishly at Phipps, they took their leave, followed by TV cameramen, and Nebling linked arms with Phipps and led him back to the west wing,