“What if,” says Admin, “you dropped a nuclear bomb into the eye of a hurricane?”
That Admin! Fun in his own way.
“Not sure I’m following you,” says Spence.
“What’s so hard?” says Admin. “Nuclear bombs make those big mushroom clouds that shoot right up to the highest part of the atmosphere. So why wouldn’t the detonation take the hurricane with it, up and out of the way?”
There’s a long silence after that. Then Admin says, “And I don’t like that name – Earl. Know what an earl is?”
“I remember the Duke of Earl,” Spence say, and he starts singing, “Duke duke duke duke of earl.” Some humans – take Billie Holiday for example, or Elvis – have nice singing voices. Others don’t. I’m edging toward the door.
“A duke’s a peer,” Admin says. I know piers from our trip to San Diego, when this drunk fisherman fell in and Bernie and I fished him out, but Admin had lost me. “Between a marquess and a viscount.”
“Oh,” says Spence.
“Like Robin, Earl of Locksley.”
“And you haven’t answered my question.”
More silence. I’m outta here.
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