Professor Hobart Frisbee:
I'm afraid I must ask you to leave.
Honey Swanson:
Leave here? Why?
Professor Hobart Frisbee:
I want you to look at this project, this history of music, as a voyage, a long, hard tedious voyage. And when the Foundation first launched its vessel, it wisely followed an old rule of the sea. No women aboard. Consequently, they chose a crew of single men with nothing to distract them from the course they were about to sail.
Honey Swanson:
Say, Junior, you couldn't stop walking up and down here?
Professor Hobart Frisbee:
For the last four days, Miss Honey, we have been doing nothing but just drifting. The needle of the compass no longer points to the magnetic pole. It points, if I may say so, to your ankles.
Honey Swanson:
Oh, come now, Admiral, a bunch of grown men. They've all seen a pair of ankles before.
Professor Hobart Frisbee:
Not in nine years, they haven't. Except for the singularly uninspired underpinnings of Miss Bragg.
Honey Swanson:
Well, if you think I'm bothering them, I'll sit on my legs.
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05/03/2025 alle ore 08:34
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