Aboard My Train Of Thought, Scott C. Endsley [reading comprehension books .TXT] 📗

here! What's the date out there?"

Derf looked at his solar/nuclear wrist calendar/watch his wife bought him for their 23rd anniversary, and did some calculating. "Hmm, well, it looks like somewhere around July 4, 1947. Why, Giles?"

"You didn't tell me we were traveling back in time!! If I remember right, seems I read something about a crashed flying saucer being found in Roswell around that date!!! OH MY GOD, WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!!!!! TURN THIS SHIP AROUND!!!!"

The professor made a dive at the commander of the ship and pushed him aside. Immediately, Giles took control of the flight panel, pushing all the buttons, twisting all the knobs and wheels he could. The craft began tossing and turning in the electrified sky.

"Giles! What are you doing? You're going to have us killed!!!" Derf yelled, trying to pry his hands loose from the controls.

"Can't you see? I'm trying to save us all!!!" Giles fought back.

"Look out Giles!" Derf panicked, "We're going to crash into that silly looking army weather balloon up ahead with the hideous wooden dummies dangling from it!"
-----------------------------------------------------------------

(Episode 12)
"Hmmm, let's see what's on television...(Click)(Click)(Click)... (Click)...Oh good," I laid back, "Looks like a movie's coming on. This ought to be good..."


...On a misty fall morning, on November 13th, in New York City, the inevitable occurred! They had decided they had had enough! Tired of being sat upon, the toilets around the city united!
They unilaterally tore themselves loose from their plumbing and staged a 'scoot-out,' leaving everyone stirring through the streets, looking desperately for somewhere to go.
As they converged on the steps of city hall, Mayor Luigie was eating his lunch in his office when he heard the commode... er um, commotion. He put down his sandwich and went over to the window to see what the stink was all about.

"Frank, the apparent leader is on line one, and demands to speak with you," his secretary announced.

"Take his name and number, I'll call him after lunch," the mayor said scowling while stuffing his sandwich in his mouth.

"His name is John, and he says he's able to hold a lot longer than you can!"
The mayor threw his sandwich down, sighed and whipped the phone to his ear."Ok, Johnny boy, what's going down?"

"All right, Mr. Mayor, see... we ain't gonna take anymore of anybody's crap, ok?...It's like this... we just don't get any respect, see. The only homage paid to us is an occasional family pet, lapping from our labors, getting its daily source of vitamin P. We want the same equal rights and rewards decorative furniture enjoy, see.... So what is it, Mr. Mayor? Whatcha gonna do, hmm? Come on... Speak now or forever hold your piss!!!"

The mayor slammmed the phone down, then rang for his secretary.

"Yes, Frank?"

"Send this memo over to Jones at the D.A.'s office. Tell him to get things moving, then put a lid on it!"

Stay tuned for the 1952 Oscar- Nominated, My Kingdom For A Throne! Starring Hugh Beaumont....(Click)


"Surely there's something better on..." I remarked while flipping through the channels again...(Click!)(Click!)(Click!) "Hmmmm... the news, huh?"


"...We're looking at terrorism from a broad," the FBI spokesman informed NBS news.

"Uh, don't you mean abroad, sir?" the news anchorman questioned.

"No, we're looking at terrorism in its worst-case scenario, from a very viciously dangerous revolutionary broad, who coined the so-called burn-the-bra-movement in the 60's, named Ima Loosschest."

"At this time they think they know the whereabouts of the suspect in question. But the large wholesale brassiere company's president, Max Sizemore, isn't taking any chances; he's ordered all employees at his various women's garment factories around the country to stay at home until she's been apprehended. The FBI have announced they'll be keeping us abreast should anything exciting develop, pardon the pun.... back to you, Peter."

"Thanks, Roger... We end tonight's broadcast with the recent upsurge of meteorological activity that has become evident all over the evening skies this month; and the public fear surrounding the issue... There has only been one occasion recorded, in all of the history of mankind, of a person ever receiving a direct hit from a meteorite! And statistics tell us that the chance of it ever happening to you is(BANG!!!!!)....... ARGHHH!!!!!"


"Good Godfrey, there's gotta be something good on TV!" I complained, while one more time flipping channels.


(Click!)(Click!)(Click)...God is... (Click)(Click)... our grand-prize winner today!!! ...(Click!)(Click-Click)... and She's quoted as saying... (Click-Click-Click!)"...that's not logical, Jim!" (CLICK!!!)

I decided I'd had enough television for the afternoon. I laid back on the couch, and contemplated my State of the Union Address, scheduled for that evening. My eyes began to feel heavy as I stared at the ceiling fan directly above. Slowly drifting, drifting away from all that plagued my aching mind, I found himself, once again, in ancient Russia. Day after day and night after night, I'd dream that I was the son of Ivan the Terrible, and the dream would always end the same way. "Mr. President!"

"What!!!?? What is it?"

"Mr. President, you have only a few minutes before your speech, Sir. Here, get into this suit coat."

"Oh, it was a dream again." Relieved, I wiped the sweat from my forehead. "OH! The speech. Yes well, uh, where's my notes? Oh, in my coat pocket, whew!...Ok, I think I'm ready now."
---------------------------------------------

(Episode 13)
I was quickly escorted to the Presidential limousine and whisked away to Capitol Hill, where members of both houses of Congress were waiting, yet representatives were starting to get restless during the lengthy delay as one of the more outspoken members of the Black Caucus stood up in his chair and began shouting:

"WE WANT RALPH, WE WANT RALPH, WE WANT RALPH!!"

Other members began joining in, clapping and stomping, until the full house was out of order. One of them suggested they try to do the wave. They started from the right, then the left followed when they saw it was popular.... just like in regular politics! A few began tossing Frisbees, until someone finally spoke up, "Shhh! Ok guys, time to knock it off and put on our dignified faces, the networks are about to go on!!"


"This is an NBS special news presentation. The President's State of the Union Address. Now, sitting in for the recently injured Peter Waylon Jennings, here's NBS news correspondent Dan Rathernot, with colleague Roger Mudpie on the House floor...... Dan?"

"Thanks Joe. Well, this is to be the first State of the Union Address for the new President, Clyde P. Hipwing... and the question of course is: will what Mr Hipwing has to say fall on deaf ears because of the immediate racial turmoil in the nation, his lack of direction, and his waning trade policies... ever since taking office?

"We're joined this evening with news correspondent Roger Mudpie on the House floor with reflection on tonight's upcoming speech... Roger?"

Roger wasn't paying attention, instead, he was telling a joke to Congessman Darymaple, "...So I ended the report with, 'the FBI will be keeping us abreast should something exciting develop, pardon the pun.' Ha ha ha!..."

"ROGER!!!"

"Oh hello Dan, I'm joined here with the Foreign Trade Committee leader, Cedric Darymaple. Now, Mr Darymaple, as head of the commitee, what goals should the president address this evening, concerning your proposal of opening up more trade with the African continent?"

The congressman scratched his confused head and quizzed, "now, say that again... I don't quite understand what you meant. Whose developing breast was the FBI referring to?"

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES!!!

"Oh Dan," Roger quickly alerted, "they've just announced the arrival of the president, so I'll send it back up to you... Now Cedric, listen again; the FBI announced that they will..."

"Um, uh, thanks, Roger. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the president is making his way to the House floor. The crowd, as you can hear, is going mad with applause, but it looks like the crowd is starting to die down now that he's ready to speak. Let's listen in."


"Thank you..... Thank you very much, you're so kind. Thanks. People, members of both houses of congress, thank you for this opportunity to speak with you this evening.... The American people have waited a long time for their liberation from a bureaucratic intrusive......"

"What About The Book Deal, Mr. President?!" Someone on the back row suddenly interupted with a shout.

I cleared my throat and began again... "the American people have..."

"What about the book deal?!"

"Huh? Who said that?" I frowned

"I wanna know about the book deal! How much did they pay you in advance under the table?!"
"Newt?! Newt Greenwich, what you are doing? Sit down!" I demanded.

Other members of congress stood to their feet in agreement with the protest. "Yeah!.... Here here!.... We wanna hear about the book deal!"

I'm sure the folks at home were trying to fine-tune the contrast on their televisions, as I must have turned blue trying to hold my tongue. "You know what I've got to say about the book? I wish I never wrote the thing! The hell with the book! The hell with all of you too! I quit!!!!"

Each and every celestial body in God's great universe were sucked to the earth in that instant moment as all the people across America gasped at once. I ran from the podium and out a back door as members of congress sat in silence while Vice-President McCovey followed me in pursuit. "Hey Man! Where you think you're goin'?!"

"Go back and take care of your country, Ralph. You're the President now!" I said, waving him off.

"Man, you can't just get mad, and take off like that. What will the people think of you?" Ralph clutched me by the arm.

"I don't care!" I replied, "when YOU get all fired up live on TV, YOU get rave reviews. What difference should it make? I can't do anything right..... Goodbye Ralph."

"You lousy quitter! You no good laggard! Man, I thought you had the right stuff, but I was wnong!" he growled with disdain as I turned around to offer a farewell handshake. Ralph, still with disillusionment in his eyes, tried to make up his mind whether to just spit on it, or not. "The hell with a handshake, Clyde." Then in a soft touch that Ralph seldom let anyone see, he reached out and hugged my neck. "Take care of yourself, man..."

The next morning's papers were all front to back with stories concerning my resignation. Some heralding the fact that Ralph would be the first Black President in the nation's history. Others were rejoicing my downfall. "PRESIDENT HIPWING 'NEWTERED' BEFORE RESIGNING!" heralded one headline.

I privately and officially resigned at one o'clock the next afternoon to return to a quiet life, free from any notoriety. Ralph was sworn in soon after, and promised to carry out most of my legislative goals.
-----------------------------------------------------------
(Episode 14)
In Santa Barbara that same afternoon the church on Walnut Street was bulging beyond full capacity for Professor Endicotsley's funeral. Half of those attending were some of his ex-college students who wanted to wish him God-speed on his afterlife sojourn. Several people gave tearful, as well as humorous, testimonials about the Giles they all knew in different ways, but loved just the same. Edie was most brokenhearted. She tried to buck-up (as the professor often advised her), but couldn't hold back every time she'd recall finding Giles' lifeless body slumped in his wheelchair in his radio