Sentence The Sixhundredandseventythird
 
One effect of President Duck Trumpet-Trousers turning back the clocks of the United States of America twenty-four hours by his Executive Order was that the Warrant to enter The Dolls House and arrest the adult inhabitants became invalid, being forward dated to the next day; lawyers successfully argued that it constituted an infringement of the Constitution to arrest the three adults – Sir Parlane MacFarlane, his valet, Dominic Doubleday and Mr Doubleday's wife, Marie, also known as Mrs McOgle, proprietress of the establishment – and Federal Judges had no alternative but to dismiss the Warrant as unconstitutional, setting the three free and returning the children, who had been taken into protective custody, to the House and the care of the owner; of course, there was a loud chorus of protest, led by Hyman Z Kaplan, Sadie Moskowitz, and Rose Mitnick, but to no avail; the 'injured parties' retired within, along with the children, and barred the doors to reporters and the television crews who had encamped on the street; indeed, the city police were called and resorted to water cannons and drawn batons to clear the street which soon returned to its normal, boring. somnolence, and it was in the Diner round the corner that the three intrepid reporters gathered, not to
lick their wounds, but to plan their next course of action; of course, the media – denied their story, for to publish anything about the incident was to condemn the purveyors to a life-time in Guantanamo Bay, which had already welcomed in five camera crews, four producers, three editors, two Daily News Presenters, and one who became known as 'the partridge in a pear tree' (the Anchor Man on Fox News who had belatedly rewound his watch only to discover that the story he had just broadcast wouldn't occur for another 12 hours!) - and that in itself filled Duck with great joy, for he hated all News Media with a vengeance; indeed at his Press Conference that very morning, when John Soapsuds from the BBC stood up and had the temerity not to back down under a barrage of highly
personal insults from the President, but to ask about the constitutionality of winding the nation's clocks back twenty-four hours, giving an estimated 25,000 people a second crack at their birthday and incarcerating 17,000 prison inmates for an additional day before their release (indeed seven thousand who had already been released, had to be re-arrested and returned to their prison cells to
await their new release date the following morning) all Duck did was look deep into Mr Soapsuds hazel eyes and, in a voice heady with superbity, utter the immortal words: "you're fired!" which, due to them coinciding with the flash of a photographers bulb, sounded remarkably like "you're hired!" and immediately landed the Presidential Human Resources Department in a welter of logistical nightmares which stemmed from the necessity of delivering employment contracts to Mr Soapsuds, followed in a heartbeat with the same number of dismissal notices and subsequent claims of unfair dismissal which tied the legal-eagles of the White House in knots for the following ten years – ten years of exorbitant bills for consultants, lawyers, specialist advisers and witnesses, five separate courts and judges working on nothing else, fifty thousand Grand Jurymen (and women) examining all the evidence from all seven sides and effectively doubled the National Debt and bankrupted the Cayman Islands accountancy firm of Quandary, Quibble and Umbraticus International Addersup and Dividers Inc, who had accidentally won the contract for the reduction of the US National Debt (their letter requesting payment terms for a $15 postage fee debt having been misinterpreted by one of Duck's Love Children, employed as a Special Advisor. who had mislaid his calculator and simply gave up the arduous and Cimmerian task of dividing the $15 into 12 monthly payments on his fingers and simply mis-filed the letter among the other applications for the National Debt Reduction Program) and, failing miserably, saw its three executive directors and the office cat each jailed for
seven consecutive terms of 99 years, with no possibility of release on parole until the sixth had been served to completion! but none of that mattered to Hyman Kaplan, who reminded his friends of his Uncle Gus's immortal words: "if we had ham, we could have ham and eggs, if we only had eggs!" and they agreed on the man's undisputed gift for gadzookery and set to work with relish, mustard, maple syrup and skooshy cream on the groaning trenchers of pancakes delivered by the ever-cheery and smiling 93-year-old Irma Grese (still hiding out under her adopted work-name of Lola Goldstein,
after giving her guards the slip and avoiding execution for her infamous treatment of prisoners in Bergen-Belsen and Auschwitz Death Camps, she entered the United States in 1947, disguised as a bouquet of barbed wire and walked on bare feet all the way from Rykers Island to The Bronx, where she worked in a sweat shop owned by the industrious Max Abelstein – born Martin Bormann, still a hale and hearty 116-years-young and living in quiet retirement in a Queens Autumn-tide Home where he happily dibbles his stick for the enjoyment of the female residents – running up replica Nazi SS Uniforms for Halloween Costumes and turning white Sheets into Ku Klux Klan outfits for the 5th of July celebrations for twenty years before opening the Diner along with her jovial 98-year-old partner,
Lise Volkenrath, now known as Lulu Finckelmann, who also escaped execution after the war and still supervises the kitchen) and the "Rest," as they say on Fox News, "is History – One Fuck-up After Another!"

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