Club president Stewart Hamlin brought the meeting to order at approximately 3:20pm, leading the assembly in the RDRC Club anthem. The rendition, while technically competent, was lacking that certain special RDRC pizzazz, and it left this Secretary Supreme less than satisfied.
As per RDRC protocol, Mr. Hamlin called on treasurer Manny Sirpansky to deliver the weekly report on RDRC club finances. Mr. Sirpansky, however, proceeded to deliver a report on the existence of dinosaur skeletons in his backyard, most notably a full and intact diplodocus skeleton that Sirpansky christened “Dippy.”
At this point, member at large Clem Moppett, although thoroughly out of order, asserted his corpulent bulk and threatened to unduly terrorize the honorable Mr. Jammerson, Secretary Supreme, if the honorable Mr. Jammerson did not write down every last word Mr. Moppett uttered. What follows is a matter of strictly my own cowardice:
“It’s not fair! Every week Sirpansy’s in here with another stupid dinosaur or something! Sirpansy, do you even know what treasurers are supposed to do?!”
At this Mr. Sirpansky took umbrage. The honorable Mr. Jammerson, however, ignored him.
“How come everything cool always happens to Sirpansy, huh? ‘Oh look, I found a dinosaur. It was right next to that meteorite I found last week. My name’s Manny Sirpansy and I’m a big stupid pansy. And I suck.’ I mean, yeah, just last month space robots fought a galactic world war in my garage, and yes, I myself turned the tide of battle and single-handedly saved the known universe, but still, it’s just not fair. And I hate you.”
Mr. Moppett’s use of the second person there refers to Mr. Sirpansky, and most definitely not to the courteous and accommodating honorable Mr. Jammerson.
Theresa McCall, twin sister of sergeant-at-arms Andy McCall and, as such, outside the probable range of Mr. Moppett’s oafen flab-hammer of a fist, however, took a different stance. She said that she didn’t know why all the stupid boys liked their stupid dinosaurs anyhow. Stupid dinosaurs, she conjectured, are probably good for nothing. Maybe for tramping dirt all over the carpet and eating all the bath-soap, she clarified on a quick but still damning reconsideration.
Ms. McCall was met with shouts from several members at large, to the effect of, “You’re a stupid girl and we like robots and dinosaurs!”
Ms. McCall, however, retaliated by developing breasts and refusing to show them to the assembly.
Mr. Hamlin ruled Ms. McCall’s accelerated and ludicrous puberty out of order and demanded an immediate return to relevant club business: imaginary dinosaurs and the like.
Mr. Sirpansky, having regained the floor, noted that his diplodocus skeleton had not only been in perfect condition, but had spontaneously reincorporated and gained the power of speech, and that Mr. Sirpansky and his talking dino-pal Dippy Diplodocus were planning to drag race Mr. Hamlin and his talking triceratops, Topsy.
The meeting was then adjourned, and all members were treated to complimentary punch and cookies by Mrs. Hamlin, with the exception of Mr. Moppett, who was thoroughly spanked.
End report.
