Page 44 - Unlikely Stories 5

UU

Uriah leaped from the trainer, did fifty pushups and vaulted on to
an electric treadmill. “You ought to try this one, Nebbie, my boy: all
you have to do is keep up with it. Just set the angle and the speed of
the belt and away you go. Yippee!”
“Careful, Urkie! Can that thing handle that kind of abuse?”
“Sure! The Norwegians build ‘em to last!”
Neb Scurry stood dejected, shaking his head sadly. “What a shame.”
“What’s a shame?”
“Don’t you ever wonder why so many good products are made in
some other country, Urkie?”
Urquhart shrugged, shoulders rolling with his gait.
“No. Why should I? Haven’t you said yourself that because people
here don’t want to work, and their unions are corrupt and the liberals
pass all that regula—regulartory legislation, that corporations simply
have to protect their stockholders by going offshore?”
“Right! Just testing you. By the way, Urkie: do you know what they
call an automobile made in Sweden by a company owned by
Americans?”
“Uh, no. I have a Cadillac limo.”
“It’s a smorgasford, Urkie.” Urquhart looked puzzled. “Never
mind. I need some better material.”
Uriah switched off the treadmill and grabbed a jump rope.
“Can’t talk now, Neb. Got to concentrate. This is difficult.”
“Not for a ten-year-old girl,” muttered the smaller man, as he
turned and rummaged around in his gym bag.
“Can’t hear you!” yelled Urquhart. “This won’t take long. I’m still
learning. Oops!” The rope hit the back of his ankles. He threw it
across the room in a rage. “Damn it!”
Neb clucked his tongue in simulated admonition. “Oh, such
blasphemy, Urkie! You wouldn’t talk like that in church.”
Uriah was sulking. “I’ve got a right to talk how I want. And from a
higher power, you know.”
“Spoken like the fundamentalist you are, sir! But you must take care
in who hears it: you’re not really an ordained man of the cloth.”
“Oh, so now you’re telling me what to do, are you?” Urquhart
viciously attacked a punching bag. “Who are you: nobody, that’s
who!”

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