EDITOR’S NOTE REGARDING NON-APPEARANCE OF COLUMN – Your Editor, the most putupon holder of that title since Og the Caveman took up the trade in the Ice Age, has again been euchred by an incumbent of this so-called column. It’s not as if the work is difficult – one need only turn one’s ear toward the municipal building to reap a veritable harvest of ludicrous largesse - but we are once again bereft of someone to fill space in our pages.

As noted on June 24, Miss Gutthwacker signed up to appear in the Intergalactic Unicycle Tour de Farce, as well as in the First Annual Relay for Hangnail Prevention, which were, by a malign quirk of fate, scheduled for the same day. As a unicyclist of some ability, she was to be the featured and final performer in a show on the 27th ultimo at the Piazza Municipale.

First came the Hangnail Relay, which took place on the tiddlywinks court at the Dog River Academy for Wayward Boys under the watchful eye of Coach Bronko Nagurski Naugahyde, who, in addition to his football duties, serves as janitor of the building where the DRAforWB intercollegiate tiddlywinks team plays its matches. As the space is somewhat confined, being approximately the size of a large sectional sofa, participants were forced to run endless laps while balancing a pair of cuticle scissors on a demitasse spoon held in the mouth. Each of the 2 teams had to pass the spoon to the next person in line without dropping the spoon or the scissors. (As it was the inaugural relay and uncertain of success, most hangnail sufferers preferred to wait for the First Quotennial Greater East Roxbury Relay & Turkey Shoot in July.) Field Judge Oddly Nuggins, the municipal Porcupine Wrangler, disqualified both teams at the first relay point for dropping their scissors, dropping their spoons, and locking lips for more than 15 seconds. The resulting wrangle, which even an experienced hand like Nuggins was unable to quell, led to the abrupt end of the relay and the intake of a mere $1.49 of the $250.00 hoped for. However, this also released Miss Gutthwacker from her promise to pedal as long as there were runners on the track, and enabled her to leave for the unicycling downtown.

Meanwhile, crowds surrounded the Piazza and leaned out of windows to watch the unicyclists. Third Constable Gulliver Waffleblaster, remembering the unfortunate incident last year when Chief Nylon harpooned several dozen bicyclists as they sped through town, tied the Chief to a tree overlooking the Piazza, making sure that there were no harpoons within reach, and that the Chief was securely locked in thumb cuffs. Bob the Attack Cat, being no more charitably inclined than his owner toward unmotorized conveyances, was incarcerated in a commodious cage of heavy steel mesh at Chief Nylon’s feet.

Riders whizzed down Main Street Hill over a series of ramps, performing leaps, loops and barrel rolls. The exhibition had been going on for some time when Miss Gutthwacker put in her appearance, three hours early and travelling at the unheard-of speed of 59.7 miles per hour (the result of cycling straight down the DRAforWB ski slope without brakes and onto Main Street, where she continued to gather speed). She hit the first ramp, soared 20 feet into the air, twirled around the telephone lines, and dropped like a rock onto the trampoline at the bottom of the second ramp. With one bounce she attained a height of 100 feet before ricocheting off the basket of the Pet Casket King’s hot air balloon, whereat she plummeted onto the third ramp and sailed backwards in the direction of the Ninth National Bank of Northfield, where she might have effected a safe landing. However, fate intervened in the person of Missus O’Looley, who chose that moment to run shrieking to her sixth-floor window overlooking the Piazza, bearing in her be-gloved hands the roast haunch of yak which had burst into flames in her oven. The flaming haunch sailed out of the window and smacked Miss Gutthwacker, causing her saddlebags to go up in flames. Roast, rider and unicycle plunged through several canvas awnings, including the one on the reviewing stand, where the hapless rider might have joined her ancestors but for the fact that she ended her descent in the 600-gallon vat of gin rickeys which had been prepared for the refreshment of riders, viewers and dignitaries. This extinguished the fiery haunch, but not before it singed off Miss G’s eyebrows, hair and moustache. (The haunch was reclaimed by Missus O’Looley after a brief struggle with Constable Waffleblaster, who wished to retain it as evidence.)

Miss Gutthwacker, who will be hospitalized for an extended period, is in a cast from the top of her head down to her feet; only her eyes, nose, mouth and left big toe are visible. While she swears that she can type with her left big toe, your Editor is nevertheless in search of a replacement; anyone interested may apply in person at the News office.