Palafox

Pop open an egg, or, actually, what should one call the delicate operation by which one removes an egg?s superior (or allegedly so) quarter, via a teaspoon?s well-placed tap? Does one behead, uncork, uncap, unhood an egg? Our three guests have no idea, dismissing the question with waves of their hands, impressive indeed from a technical standpoint, their shared gesture, economical and precise, ?masterful? never having found an object to which it more appropriately applied. Each compliments the other in turn while, not one to haggle, Palafox splits his shell with one fell peck. It hadn?t been his ambition to hatch, no, not yet, he merely wanted to annex the next-to. The day comes, though, when one can no longer grow in one?s egg. Palafox was running out of room. Around the table, by contrast, they maneuvered through more comfortable confines, each too far from the other to land a fork accidentally in an eye, bottles serving as buffers too. The war was mentioned, then the conversation turned to a looming marriage, and then to eggs when Palafox burst out and in. Nonetheless, while extending an arm, Maureen could have easily and unambiguously gouged out her father?s eye or that of her future husband for that matter, should they have happened into conversational contretemps. And Chancelade would have only needed to make the merest movement of a hand to gouge out either his future father-in-law?s eye or that of his future wife, or first that of his future father in law and then that of his wife or the inverse, future wife first and only then future father-in-law. Despite the blood that would have blinded him, Algernon could have then countered and, blow by blow, first gouged out his daughter?s eyes and then those of his future son-in-law, or the inverse & but no, nothing like that had happened, fortunately. Everyone agreed on the matters that mattered. Chancelade was leaving for the front. Of course Maureen would wait for him. Algernon was now too old to fight. He envied his young friend. The marriage would take place as soon as he returned, once the enemy had been undone. Nothing fancy. Or, of course, at the very least, one could rent a chateau for the occasion. Why not do something sumptuous? Maureen wanted to have three, the eldest to be called Algernon. But there would be time to worry over those details. For the time being, back to Earth: did Chancelade like fresh eggs? Theirs they got fresh each morning locally, wholesale. They hadn?t even left the region. Like isn?t the word: Chancelade was literally crazy about eggs. What luck: fresh eggs! Palafox too, who had thoroughly enjoyed his. Nothing left for him to absorb. So lack of supplies was another reason to make an outing. Palafox made a few first prudent pecks, one more, and stopped, trying to gauge the reaction of his possible neighbor. In any case he would not give up, he was ready for his release, there was no longer any question of his holding back. No reaction from his possible neighbor, or he was sleeping, or he was out, or he was deaf, or he was dead, or he could give two shits, or no one or no longer anyone or no one yet lived there. Hypotheses abounded. Palafox cracked the shell, and was on the table in one bound. Algernon had the presence of mind to cover the creature with his glass. Thus was Palafox discovered and speedily taken into custody. One should not put faith in the ramblings of the skipper Sadarnac, captain of the Remora, who claims to have caught him wriggling in his net, then to have given him to Algernon. Poppycock.