Confederacy of Dunces, A - John Kennedy Toole [114]
“Oh, what a fun day this has been. You’re a gypsy. Timmy’s a sailor. The marvelous policeman’s an artist.” The young man sighed. “It’s just like Mardi Gras, and I feel so left out. I think I’ll go home and throw something on.”
“Wait just a moment,” Ignatius said. He couldn’t permit this opportunity to slip through his swollen fingers.
“I’ll put on some clogs. I’m in my Ruby Keeler phase,” the young man told Ignatius gaily. Then he began to sing. “‘You go home and get your scanties, I’ll go home and get my panties, and away we’ll go. Oh-ho-ho. Off we’re gonna shuffle, shuffle off to Buffalo-ho-ho…’”
“Stop that offensive performance,” Ignatius ordered angrily. These people must be whipped into line.
The young man did a little soft shoe around Ignatius and said, “Ruby was such a darling. I watch her old movies on television religiously. ‘And for just a silver quarter, we can tip the pullman porter, turn the lights down low, oh-ho-ho, off we’re gonna shuffle, shuffle off to…’”
“Please be serious for a moment. Stop fluttering around here.”
“Moi? Fluttering? What do you want, Gypsy Woman?”
“Have you people considered forming a political party and running a candidate?”
“Politics? Oh, Maid of Orleans. How dreary.”
“This is very important!” Ignatius shouted worriedly. He would show Myrna how to inject sex into politics. “Although I had never considered it before, you may hold the key to the future.”
“Well, what do you want to do about it, Eleanor Roosevelt?”
“You must start a party organization. Plans must be made.”
“Oh, please,” the young man sighed. “All this man’s talk is making my mind reel.”
“We may be able to save the world!” Ignatius bellowed in an orator’s voice. “Good heavens. Why haven’t I thought of this before?”
“This kind of conversation depresses me more than you could possibly imagine,” the young man told him. “You’re beginning to remind me of my father, and what could be more depressing than that?” The young man sighed. “I’m afraid I’ll have to be running along. It’s costume time.”
“No!” Ignatius grabbed the lapel of the young man’s jacket.
“Oh, my goodness,” the young man breathed, putting his hand to his throat. “Now I’ll be on pills all night.”
“We must organize immediately.”
“I can’t tell you how much you’re depressing me.”
“There must be a large organizational meeting to kick off the campaign.”
“Wouldn’t that be something like a party?”
“Yes, in a way. However, it would have to express your purpose.”
“Then it might be sort of fun. You can’t imagine how drab, drab the parties have been lately.”
“This is not to be a party, you ass.”
“Oh, we’ll be very serious.”
“Good. Now listen to me. I must come to lecture to you people so that you will be set upon the correct path. I have a rather extensive knowledge of political organization.”
“Marvelous. And you must wear that fantastic costume. I can assure you that you’ll get everyone’s undivided attention,” the young man shrieked, covering his mouth with a hand. “Oh, my dear, what a wild gathering it could be.”
“There is no time to be lost,” Ignatius said sternly. “The apocalypse is near at hand.”
“We’ll have it next week at my place.”
“You must have some red, white, and blue bunting,” Ignatius advised. “Political meetings always have that.”
“I’ll have yards and yards of it. What a decorating job lies ahead. I’ll have to get some close friends in to help me.”
“Yes, do that,” Ignatius said excitedly. “Begin organizing at every level.”
“Oh, I never guessed that you would be such a fun person to know. You were so hostile in that dreadful, tacky bar.”
“My being has many facets.”
“You amaze me.” The young man stared at Ignatius’s outfit. “To think that they’re letting you run around loose. In a way, I respect you.”
“Thank you very much.” Ignatius’s voice was smooth, pleased. “Most fools don’t comprehend my worldview at all.”
“I wouldn’t imagine so.”
“I suspect