Our Magnificent Medicine Chest: Letter A

     "Please to 
fetch me an 'A,'" whimper'd 
"Jim" Smithe-Magee. "Not a
wink for a week! Would I 
waked headache free!" So, 'tis
upstairs I fly to ful-
fill Jim's request: fetch an
'A' -- "Right away!" -- from our 
medicine chest.
    Rests this
chest in our loo; it's un-
usu'lly big. Deep in-
side it we hide the odd 
thingamajig -- one to
do -- Yes! It's true! -- with the 
goal of my quest: to ob-
tain Jim an 'A' from our 
medicine chest.
     But how's
one to be sure it's an 
asp'rin that's meant when on
urgent emergency 
errands one's sent...? I re-
hears'd Jim's instruction as 
lavwards I press'd: "Procure
Jimbo an 'A' from our 
medicine chest..."
     At half-
canter I enter the 
darken'd "pissoir," light the
lamp, eye the chest, note its 
door: "'Tis ajar! Who's ar-
rived here ahead of me, 
plunder'd our nest and made
off with all 'A's from the 
medicine chest...?"
     Gone (or
stolen!): all aardvarks, all 
anvils, all almanacs.
Missing: all air-to-air 
missiles and anoraks...
and all the asp'rins, Jim's 
pressing request. Is there
nowt with initial 'A' 
left in our chest...?
     Then I
spot what proves not an 
apothec'ry's glass but a
fabulous abacus, 
fashion'd of brass. "Any
asp'rins," weigh I, "run, at 
best, second-best to such
abaci kept in our 
medicine chest."
     Then post
haste (if not sooner) I 
hustle, I rush (never
pond'ring who 'twas who'd ne-
glected to flush) out the
door, down the stair, back to 
Smithe-Magee -- lest...Jimbo
not net his need from our 
medicine chest.
     "Oh...that
headache: it split. See...I'm 
no longer tired," says Jim.
"Time now for play -- with the 
'B' that's required. My ob-
session with 'A's...? Just my 
joke; just my jest. What I
now need's a 'B' from our 
medicine chest!"

(More forays to come: a work in progress)