"PROFESSOR-NAL" INSULT

“Protrusely?” 

“No. You mean profusely.” 

“Protruse…” 

“Profusely; ‘something made or done in excess,’” voice rising. 

“No, no, I do not believe this is accurate.” Exasperated. “Protrusely, as in ‘from that corner, there seems to be something angled protrusely!’” 

Brow furrows and then, “Protrude…  Protruding, that is what you mean, of course, I see it now.” 

“Do you? Do you know to what I refer?” 

“Yes, of course I do. Am I not a professor of many years and much regard?” 

“That you are.” 

“And do I not profess many things with only excelling knowledge?”

“That you do.” 

“So although at the moment you may act as an illiterate adolescent, I know more of that which you seem.” 

“Then truly dear Professor, I am glad that I am not completely illiterate—” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far.” 

“Oh?” voice peaks. Repeated for clarity, “Oh?” 

“For you see, you are frequently fraught with poor grammar.” 

“If this is truly the case then, and I should not muddy your high reputation with my ignorance, what then do I seem to be?” 

“That which you seem, I believe is how I stated thus previously, is an educated mentor and efficient literary mind, when the truth lies that you are a fool, a dunce verily.” 

“Verily, dear Professor? Divulge myself, how so now?” 

“Firstly, rushing into the engagement of holy matrimony before one is ready, before one has secured his profession.” 

“We grew up together, dear Sir, waiting four—nay—five plus years before I acquired this position serving under you, dear Sir.” 

“A mere desk scribe does not a home build.” 

“You are quite right in saying thus, for ‘tis not the trappings of a building, but the people with which we fill it, that make a home.” 

“You reminisce of love? You are still young. You know nothing of love.” 

Reference epiphany. “Rilke.” 

“Daft you are, Sir!” 

“But dear Professor, I ask au contraire, I? Young, dear Professor?” 

“Inexperienced.” Affirmation without hesitancy “But don’t fret, this sort of thing is to be expected from a dolt who keeps his dreams in the muddied shallows.” 

“Professor, my name is Dolton.” 

“This explains much.” Thoughtful tone. 

“Dear Sir, I am about to depart, don’t you fret. But first, I must say a few words.” 

“Of course, I suspected as much. Go on.” 

“Firstly, it was precariously, the word that I could not recollect. Secondly, I prefer a living, breathing home to a stoic fortress such as your mansion any time of the year—no offense.” Eyes betray true meaning. 

“None taken.” Tense. 

“Lastly is that while I may be, in your gaze, incompetent and illit, today you have marked yourself as an insufferable di…” 

*Dolton later lost his job that day, but soon replaced this gap with a novelist’s career and has proceeded with crafting many tales since his days as a desk clerk.*