Kiss for a No Show

Oscar bent over backwards in Gotham, where he was ensconced in a mansion.

This mansion, which would later be the province of the owner/publisher of Penthouse Magazine, Guiccione, and for a while be a museum of photographers, as well as displays of photographs, and why does it all have to be here in Mannahattas?

What is so great about this place it be a show case?

Bob Guiccione, hears a knock on his door. It is a special kind of rapping, tap, tapping.

Bob must answer it himself.

“Don’t take me for granite,” Oscar demurred, looking Bob Guiccione himself squarely in the eye, though the eye was rather oval, and there were two of them.

“There are two boobs, too, Oscar,” Guiccione said, as way of welcoming the great poet, playwright, sentimentalist, and revolutionary, into his house. “The body exhibits bilateral symmetry.”

Oscar had known of bilateral symmetry, and as to boobs, had studied and enjoyed them thoroughly in wife, who had a pair flouncy and bouncy, and fun, fun, fun, fun, fun.

His two boys, Oscar could imagine, might flouncy and bouncy themselves if they got hold of a copy of Guiccione’s Penthouse Magazine.

The Mansion had been a high-priced bordello.