There were a few gasps, but mostly everyone just sat in shocked silence. Miss Langley stood up.
With one finger Gary wiped the cream away from his eyes. He spoke into the microphone: “That was my fan club.”
Everyone laughed.
He licked his finger, then turned toward Paul and Ryan, who were at the foot of the stage stairs. “My compliments to the chef.”
The audience laughed again, and Miss Langley sat back down.
“It happens to me wherever I go,” said Gary. “That’s why I always carry this!” He reached into his paper bag and pulled out a large bath towel.
The audience laughed as Gary wiped his face with the towel. When he finished, he held it up and said, “Don’t leave home without it.”
They actually applauded.
The two disasters had canceled each other out. His pants were now wet anyway from the seltzer. He felt calm and in control. The audience was on his side.
“As I was saying, my name is Gary Boone, but all my friends”—he glanced at Paul and Ryan—“call me Goon.”
They even laughed at that.
“See, my first name’s Gary and my last name’s Boone, so when you put them together you get Goon. Now, if you think that’s bad, I’ve got a sister named Sally. Everyone calls her Saloon.”
There was more laughter, led by Gus, Abel, and Melissa.
“I have another sister named Barbara. You know what we call her?” (Pause: One … two … three.) “Baboon.”
He waited a moment. “Of course, it doesn’t help that she is always eating bananas and scratching her armpits.
“But probably the person with the worst name is my best friend, Phil Hart. I can’t even tell you what we call him.”
He waited as bits of laughter broke out in different sections of the audience as different people got the joke.
“Now, you’re probably wondering why I’m wearing this hat. Well, it’s kind of a long story.”
“Tell us!” shouted Gus.
Gary smiled. “Okay, I will. It started out this morning. I guess you might say I got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.” He paused. “My bed is up against the wall.” He paused again. “I think I broke my nose.”
Several people laughed.
“I went downstairs, where my mother was making breakfast. I couldn’t smell a thing.” Another pause. “Actually, that’s not bad when my mother is cooking breakfast. I should break my nose more often.”
He thought he heard his mother laugh.
“She’s not exactly the greatest cook. Last night we had fish for dinner. My mother fed them worms. The rest of us had spaghetti. You know the difference between a plate of spaghetti and a plate of worms? Well, you better find out if you’re ever invited to our house for dinner!
“After breakfast I went to the doctor.
“ ‘Doc, I think my nose is broken.’
“He looked at it and said, ‘No, it’s still running.’
“ ‘But Doc,’ I said. ‘I don’t smell.’
“ ‘Oh yes you do,’ he said. ‘You stink!’ ” Gary held his nose with one hand and fanned away the foul-smelling air with the other, imitating the doctor.
The audience laughed, so Gary pretended they’d hurt his feelings. “Sure, you laugh. Well, I didn’t think it was very funny. I thought he was being rude. I don’t know—maybe it was my fault. Maybe I shouldn’t have eaten two dead skunks for breakfast.”