cutoff for abortions, which in Arizona, starts from the
beginning of a woman's last period. Mr. Magnon, the list goes on and on. Did
you know there have been hundreds of anti-abortion bills proposed or passed in
various states since the Republican landslide of 2010?"
Crowe ran his hands through his hair, giving him time to think.
This is what I was afraid of. This is why they say Rose Maddock is the Big No, No!
A few seconds passed as he contemplated his response.
"Mr. Magnon?"
"Yes, I heard you."
"There is a Republican war on women, isn't there? Be truthful."
"No!" His nose tickled and he scratched it.
"You remember how we talked about law enforcement official doubting the
existence of coincidence in relation to crime?"
"Yes!"
"Well, when it comes to politics, I believe there are no coincidences. I don't know why you're doing it—especially in an election year, it makes no sense—but
the overwhelming evidence points to a coordinated and concerted, large-scale,
unwarranted, war on women."
"No, no. Please, don't say that. Trust me. We are not waging a war on
women. Arrrghhh." All at once, a second, more intense tearing pain shot through Crowe's nose. He reached up to his nose with both hands, and squeezed tightly
in an unsuccessful attempt to keep it from growing.
"Are you all right? What's wrong?"
"My nose, my nose!"
"What?"
Crowe glanced at Rose who was wide-eyed. "Ahhhheeeeaaa! My nose, it's
killing me. Can't you see it?" He couldn't believe it. His nose felt longer than his erect penis. "A mirror. Do you have a mirror?"
"Why?"
"To see my nose. I can't stand it, the ripping and tearing, the bones moving around."
"Behind you."
Crowe turned and saw a floor to ceiling mirrored wall. He jumped off his
stool and ran up to it. Oh my God, it must be a foot long and I'm on national television.
~ * * ~
Crowe turned to Rose. "I gotta go."
"Where?" Rose asked, puzzled at her guest's bizarre behavior.
"To the emergency room."
Rose shook her head in disbelief as he ran out.
"Folks, I have had at least a thousand guests since I've been host of this
show and this, without a doubt, is the strangest interview I've ever given.
"I have the distinct impression that he thought his nose was growing." Rose smiled. "You don't think the Republican National Committee Chairman would
lie to us, would he?"
~ * * ~
As soon as Crowe left Rose's studio, the pain and the tearing sensation
subsided. He ran into a men's room and gazed into the mirror. There was
nothing there! His straight Roman nose, except for being a little red from his
manhandling, was as it had always been.
Crowe was flummoxed. He flashed back through the unmanly scene he
caused and became mortified. At least he didn't run to the nearest hospital
emergency room and make a complete ass of himself. Correction. He already
made a total ass out of himself in front of a National TV audience. Now, he
needed some damage control. A big bandage on his nose and a clever cover story
ought to take care of it.
~ * * ~
Nobody said anything the next day, but the way people glanced away or
smirked as he approached, Crowe had the ominous feeling he was the butt of
numerous water cooler jokes. Admittedly, the interview with Rose Maddock was
a disaster. Somehow, he had to redeem himself—but how?
Crowe picked up his phone and punched in a number. "Yes, Boss."
"Good morning, Willie Joe. Would you come in here?"
"Be there in a sec."
Fifteen minutes later Willie Joe sauntered into Crowe's office, a smug look
planted on his face. He pushed his favorite chair a couple feet from Crowe's
desk, plunked down in it, plopped his feet on the desk and flashed a, 'what you
gonna do about it', smile. Staring at Crowe's nose, Willie Joe asked, "What's that thing that looks like a sock on your nose, Boss?"
"It's not a sock. Are you blind? It's a bandage."
Willie scrutinized Crowe's office as if figuring out how he'd rearrange the
furniture. "What'cha
beginning of a woman's last period. Mr. Magnon, the list goes on and on. Did
you know there have been hundreds of anti-abortion bills proposed or passed in
various states since the Republican landslide of 2010?"
Crowe ran his hands through his hair, giving him time to think.
This is what I was afraid of. This is why they say Rose Maddock is the Big No, No!
A few seconds passed as he contemplated his response.
"Mr. Magnon?"
"Yes, I heard you."
"There is a Republican war on women, isn't there? Be truthful."
"No!" His nose tickled and he scratched it.
"You remember how we talked about law enforcement official doubting the
existence of coincidence in relation to crime?"
"Yes!"
"Well, when it comes to politics, I believe there are no coincidences. I don't know why you're doing it—especially in an election year, it makes no sense—but
the overwhelming evidence points to a coordinated and concerted, large-scale,
unwarranted, war on women."
"No, no. Please, don't say that. Trust me. We are not waging a war on
women. Arrrghhh." All at once, a second, more intense tearing pain shot through Crowe's nose. He reached up to his nose with both hands, and squeezed tightly
in an unsuccessful attempt to keep it from growing.
"Are you all right? What's wrong?"
"My nose, my nose!"
"What?"
Crowe glanced at Rose who was wide-eyed. "Ahhhheeeeaaa! My nose, it's
killing me. Can't you see it?" He couldn't believe it. His nose felt longer than his erect penis. "A mirror. Do you have a mirror?"
"Why?"
"To see my nose. I can't stand it, the ripping and tearing, the bones moving around."
"Behind you."
Crowe turned and saw a floor to ceiling mirrored wall. He jumped off his
stool and ran up to it. Oh my God, it must be a foot long and I'm on national television.
~ * * ~
Crowe turned to Rose. "I gotta go."
"Where?" Rose asked, puzzled at her guest's bizarre behavior.
"To the emergency room."
Rose shook her head in disbelief as he ran out.
"Folks, I have had at least a thousand guests since I've been host of this
show and this, without a doubt, is the strangest interview I've ever given.
"I have the distinct impression that he thought his nose was growing." Rose smiled. "You don't think the Republican National Committee Chairman would
lie to us, would he?"
~ * * ~
As soon as Crowe left Rose's studio, the pain and the tearing sensation
subsided. He ran into a men's room and gazed into the mirror. There was
nothing there! His straight Roman nose, except for being a little red from his
manhandling, was as it had always been.
Crowe was flummoxed. He flashed back through the unmanly scene he
caused and became mortified. At least he didn't run to the nearest hospital
emergency room and make a complete ass of himself. Correction. He already
made a total ass out of himself in front of a National TV audience. Now, he
needed some damage control. A big bandage on his nose and a clever cover story
ought to take care of it.
~ * * ~
Nobody said anything the next day, but the way people glanced away or
smirked as he approached, Crowe had the ominous feeling he was the butt of
numerous water cooler jokes. Admittedly, the interview with Rose Maddock was
a disaster. Somehow, he had to redeem himself—but how?
Crowe picked up his phone and punched in a number. "Yes, Boss."
"Good morning, Willie Joe. Would you come in here?"
"Be there in a sec."
Fifteen minutes later Willie Joe sauntered into Crowe's office, a smug look
planted on his face. He pushed his favorite chair a couple feet from Crowe's
desk, plunked down in it, plopped his feet on the desk and flashed a, 'what you
gonna do about it', smile. Staring at Crowe's nose, Willie Joe asked, "What's that thing that looks like a sock on your nose, Boss?"
"It's not a sock. Are you blind? It's a bandage."
Willie scrutinized Crowe's office as if figuring out how he'd rearrange the
furniture. "What'cha
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