Friday, August 25, 2006

This time Ralph has gone too far.

Hello, all.

As you will all no doubt be aware at this late stage, I am Dr Robert Amersham Willis, Phd. I would like also to state that I am responsible for Mr Ralph William Dibny's mental care. I would like to - but I cannot! For he has finally gone so far beyond the pale that I must regrettably wash my hands of him. As Emily Dickinson would have it, "behaviour is what a man does, not what he thinks, feels, or believes" - and Ralph's behaviour over the past 24 hours has been so utterly shocking that I can scarcely type for my shaking hands.

I received a package from Federal Express this morning. As you can imagine, I was at a loss as to who might have sent it to me, as most of my friends know that I despise the hustle and bustle of these modern times, in particular the disgusting haste embodied in the Federal Express commercials, and would rather recieve a letter or other item through the refreshingly civilised auspices of the noble postie. After all, is there anything created by man or God which absolutely, positively has to be anywhere before elevenses have been consumed? I hardly think so. When I have a missive to send or a parcel to post I always find that it relaxes the mind immeasurably to leave it unsent on the table while enjoying a snifter of fine brandy and a cigar. This allows me to consider what I am about to send off into the rushing current of the mail service and perhaps take the time to amend a hasty decision or two. This very journal entry will be finely considered over a small glass of twelve-year-old malt, as I digest a luncheon of quail's eggs and pate de foie gras. In this way, we men of refinement cock a snook at the world of vulgarity which rages, like unto the tide of chaos that existed before the world began, all around us. But I digress.

In the package was Oliver Queen's beard.

I am at a loss as to how the deed was done. A mayoral candidate must presumably have some form of security to guard against ne'er-do-wells, and I understand that Mr Queen is great friends with a certain righter of wrongs with whom he happens to share a resemblance that verges on the uncanny. Be that as it may, somehow - despite being still, as far as I can determine, completely denuded of any and all habiliment aside from an unprepossessing hat - Dibny managed to gain entrance into Mr Queen's residence in the watches of the night, shave his facial area and send me the resultant mass of hair.

Mr Queen himself called me not half and hour ago, bemoaning the time and effort it would take him to regrow his pride and joy. "Baby," he said, adopting his usual vernacular, "right now, my chin is a lonely worker oppressed by a slumlord - cold and alone on Misery Street, without even a newspaper to keep him warm! And dig it - my lower lip feels the pain of the rainforests, cut down and stripped bare to feed the grease-fat bellies of the fat cats in their ivory towers! How can I be down with the kids - and their 'hip', 'now' struggle for their own crazy truth - if I don't even have a groovy set of sideburns to call my own? Something is wrong! Something is killing us all! Some hideous moral cancer is rotting our very souls and beards!"

While I thoroughly detest the man, on this occasion I could do naught but sympathise with his tragic loss. Tonsorial elegance is perhaps the hardest attribute for any man of worth to achieve, and to have such a stylish facial accoutrement amputated without so much as a by-your-leave - well, it sickens the mind and befouls the soul to contemplate it!

Ralph has crossed the line! To think that I once felt pity for that wretch of a man! But now is not the time for regrets. Now is the time for action! And action there must and shall be! "Fortune befriends the bold," as Emily Dickinson said!

This will be the last entry I choose to make in this forum, for it is unseemly to be contributing my thoughts to the journal of one who is no longer my patient - but is now my arch-nemesis! Look to the forbidding sky, and tremble, Ralph Dibny! For by this vile deed you have incurred the incalculable wrath of Dr. Robert Amersham Willis, Phd!


Blogger Green Arrow said...

Hey there, doc. Go easy on Ralph - when that stark naked stalker grabbed my goatee, it turned out to be a blessing!

Look at me! I haven't felt this young in years! And my campaign assistant, Krystal, loves it!

Of course, I've got trademarks to maintain, so I've sent away for a set of side burns and Van Dyke I saw in one of Connor's old 'Star Spangled' comics. Just for public appearances - I'm staying nice and smooth for my private visits to Sherwood! HA!

Man, I got such a mojo rising, I'm going to reform the Justice League! That's right - Green Arrow back in the good ol' JL of A! You keep your slacks on, Ralph, and I just might nominate you for junior membership!

4:24 PM  

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