Robert Robus and Tartar

Greetings! This is Robert Robus, distinguished personage extraordinaire, here to delight and entertain you. I am joined this evening (and shall be joined in further evenings, dare I to hope) by Tartar, a good friend of mine who does not exercise proper dental care, but who has long been a trusted companion of mine nevertheless. Tartar, may I say that it is a distinct pleasure to have you with me tonight? Good. . .of course, I would have said so whether you allowed me to or not, but that is far askew of the point.

Dear readers, I must at this time note that Tartar likes, above all other things, to eat doughnuts. Krispy Kreme, reportedly, is his favorite imprint, and he eats them almost constantly. I myself can attest to his predilection for ingesting these fried lumps of dough, since I have seen him engorge dozens upon dozens of frosting-infested pastries in a shockingly brief interval of time. (It is this temporal aspect, I believe, which is most highly salient among the characteristics of Tartar's doughnut consumption.)

Now, Tartar, I see you have before you five or six monstrous boxes of doughnuts (which you have ordered in special for the occasion), and my understanding is that you are going to see how many you are capable of cramming into your gullet in ten seconds' time. I am correct? But of course--for I am Robert Robus! At any rate, I see you are choosing to ignore my comments (which, however much hubris they may make nauseatingly manifest, are nevertheless accurate), the rather to begin gorging yourself on pastry. You are a fool; I admire you greatly.

But what's that, Tartar? What is happening? Why are you doubling over and ejecting the contents of your stomach through that strange orifice between your chin and nose? What is that foul residue that reeks so ghastly sour? --Upon my word, old chap. . .you say you vomited? Now why would you go and do a thing like that, Tartar? --What? You say it's related to your recent consumption of that obscene quantity of doughnuts? Why, that cannot be--it must not be true! Correlation does not prove causation; there must have been another causal factor!

Why, look! I see you wore Adidas sneakers today--a most unlucky choice! You should have worn Nikes, my friend, you should have worn Nikes! Readers, we could all learn a thing or two from Tartar: don't wear nonpropitious footwear! At any rate, while these tantalizingly solicitous nurses tend to my ailing friend, I shall now bid you farewell. But before I do, I exhort you to return once more to The Musings of Robert Robus for more vauntiferous musings (and many further ridiculous narratives) from I, Robert Robus. Come back another day, dear readers!