"John Morressy - Last Jerry Fagin Show" - читать интересную книгу автора (Morressy John)

how crowded
your schedule is." Stepping to the forestage, Jerry began to clap. "And now
let's have a big hand for the ambassador," he said to the delighted audience.
That didn't stop Twelve, who was acting like a kid who has just learned
the facts of life. "In my ignorance I assumed that this was to be a hoeimeius
encounter. I employed my fourth voice. Had I known that it was to be a
toheimeiox, I would have spoken thirdishly. Please forgive me, Mr. Jerry
Fagin."
On the last few words, as Twelve took his place at Jerry's side, his
voice had changed completely. It was really weird. I wondered whether Jerry
had somehow shocked the alien into instant puberty. In seconds Twelve had gone
from that Bumpy gurgle to a flat, staccato, nowhere-in-particular accent not a
hell of a lot different from Jerry's.
"Please take my wife," he said.
Nobody made a sound. They probably all thought Twelve was going out of
his head. So did I, for just an instant, and then I recognized that line and
had my first clue of what Twelve was up to.
I didn't believe it. It was too crazy. But when Twelve wobbled his face
a little-just a little, very nervously-it all became clear: He was mugging for
a laugh. This crazy-looking thing from outer space that couldn't even get a
fourword one-liner straight was trying to be a standup comic. I felt kind of
sorry for the poor blob. Imagine coming all that way and bombing on your very
first appearance.

What I didn't know at the time was that Twelve learned fast.
"Thanks again, Mr. Ambassador," Jerry said, edging away. "You've been a
wonderful guest, and we hope you'll visit us again whenever your demanding
schedule permits."
"It's a pleasure to be here, Jerry," Twelve said, stepping in front of
his host, talking directly to the audience. "I would have been here earlier,
but there was a holdup in traffic. I stopped for a light, and two men held me
up." He did a quick jerk of his features-eyes left, nose right. The audience
laughed. They were cautious about it, but they laughed.
"We're all sorry to hear that, Mr. Ambassador. And now our next guest,
the wellknown-" Jerry started to say, but Twelve went right on.
"The producer took me to dinner at this place on Fifty-fourth. The salad
wasn't bad, but I didn't like the little men in loincloths who kept dipping
their arrows into the Russian dressing."
"-Well-known star of stage and screen who for the past three seasons has
been delighting viewers with her portrayal-" Jerry tried again, louder,
pushing in front of the alien.
Twelve rolled his eyes in opposite directions and blinked his weiox. "I
asked the waiter if the lobster Newburg was any good. He said, `Where did you
see that on the menu?' I said, `I didn't see it on the menu. I saw it on your
tie.' " The audience laughed harder and longer this time. They liked him.
Shoving Twelve aside, Jerry snarled, "This lovely and talented lady who
has won the hearts of millions of viewers with her portrayal of the zany,
lovable Mrs. Pregnowski in-"
Twelve reeled, staggered back, waved his arms, did a flying leap into
the air, and came down in a classic pratfall with a noise like a bagpipe