“Give me a glass of that Valpolicella,” the Colonel said, and remembered to add, “please.”
“Excuse me,” he said. “Be comfortable, honey dog, please. You asked me to tell you.”
“I’m not your honey dog. That must be someone else.”
“Correct. You’re my last and true and only love. Is that correct? But you asked me to tell you.”
“Please tell me,” the girl said. “I’d like to be your honey dog if I knew how to do it. But I am only a girl from this town that loves you.”
“We’ll operate on that,” the Colonel said. “And I love you. I probably picked up that phrase in the Philippines.”
“Probably,” the girl said. “But I would rather be your straight girl.”
“You are,” the Colonel said. “Complete with handles and with the flag on top.”
“Please don’t be rough,” she said. “Please love me true and tell me as true as you can, without hurting yourself in any way.”
“I’ll tell you true,” he said. “As true as I can tell and let it hurt who it hurts. It is better that you hear it from me, if you have curiosity on this subject, than that you read it in some book with stiff covers.”
“Please don’t be rough. Just tell me true and hold me tight and tell me true until you are purged of it; if that can be.”
“I don’t need to purge,” he said. “Except heavies being used tactically. I have nothing against them if they use them right even if they kill you. But for ground support give
