Home > 2012-13 Season > Return to Hoover Island Part III: By Dick Oakes, Jr.

Return to Hoover Island Part III: By Dick Oakes, Jr.

January 8, 2013 Leave a comment Go to comments

By Dick Oakes, Jr.
Senior Staff Writer
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I recover from my horrendous beating just in time to meet with Tucker at the palace. Still, he keeps me waiting over an hour.

I am ushered into a gigantic, nigh-empty ballroom. A piano stands in one corner and a tiny child’s chair opposite. I think about the chair, dismiss it and wander across to the piano. The Oakes family has never possessed even the faintest hint of musical talent– my vagabond father once constructed a makeshift violin out of a tree stump and some rubber bands. It is said that the abysmal noise that ushered forth put the entire valley into deep consternation and later, of course, he was murdered– the tree stump violin broken beside him.

I tickle the ivories a bit. Less than a minute later, the butler enters the ballroom, looks at me, looks down at the keyboard and says, “Sir, if you don’t mind, please…” I sigh and move to the windows.

In the side yard, some nudes lay sunning in the grasses, others frolic in the gardens. They run the gamut– some forms that, though of age, appear to be just blossoming into womanhood; others already sporting gorgeously developed bosoms. A hose is suddenly produced and the girls begin squirting each other directly in the chests and laughing innocently. It is just at the moment when I can take no more that the butler fetches me to see Tucker.

I am led into a different part of his vast chambers– here is the famous Hoover Island library, full of texts utterly obscure to the Lankville scholar. “Have a look,” says Tucker, who is wearing a marvelous light green robe and his bejeweled crown. “This shelf in particular are all titles pertaining to our historical embracing of nudity”. I scan the spines. Leaning Over Nude in the Workplace: How to Love the Unseen Places, An Account of the Knackers of Northern Hoover Island: 1728-1931 (3 VOLUMES), Crucible of Combat: The Bushes of Hoover Island. I nod politely.

Tucker leads me over to another exceedingly small chair while he rests on a bejeweled throne. I take out my notes.
He puts up his hand.

“I’ll have you know that we’ve given the Pondicherry Association one week to resolve their issues. Otherwise, Hoover Island will withdraw their franchise, ban all incoming flights from Lankville and you will not hear from us again for perhaps another four hundred years.”

I fumble. I have no such press report.

“No, no, you won’t find that in your press,” Tucker laughs. It is though he has read my mind. “The hubris of your Lankville does not permit such a story. After all, the dear bellicose citizens of Lankville would not take kindly to being threatened by such a meaningless place as Hoover Island.” He laughs again, louder.

I attempt to follow up but Tucker will not permit any further talk of hockey. He asks me of my evening and I explain the events in the oceanside bar. He smiles.

“There is a social covenant here that prevents a man from asking another man to move his nutsack out of view, even if it is jiggling side to side in the manner you have described,” he explains. “Whilst on the dancefloor, you need to train yourself to observe the jouncing, animate papayas in a less-carnal manner. Of course, you should leer, but leer with the aim of further understanding. This is how we achieved such peace here.”

I ask him why he is never nude.

Before answering, he reaches beneath his throne and produces a plastic barrel of orange puffs of a cheese variety. He unscrews the cap and eats several in quick succession.

“It is important for the monarch to be clad differently. There are many people on Hoover Island who have seen me nude on special occasions and, of course, I have schtupped many citizens, which requires nudity but whilst in state, I do appear in my costume.”

It seems fruitless to continue down this avenue again and I try to divert the conversation back to hockey but to no avail. Tucker does promise a review of the island’s main hockey arena in the coming days.

“I want you to continue to get used to the nudity. Focus on the asses of Hoover Island. Let me know tomorrow if you notice something peculiar.”

Tucker’s handlers suddenly appear and he is led away. After awhile, a butler escorts me out.

Dick Oakes’ series will continue in future issues.

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