HOW NOT TO CARRY OUT A FACELIFT.

Great show yesterday Kid. It has been said that five minutes into the show a man got up, picked up his bed and walked. But don't ring the Vatican yet until the story is confirmed. Saint Gerry, Patron saint of lost dogs and fallen women.
Now that the world and his wife know that Ken takes a tea break between half past ten and eleven o'clock I bet he gets some ribbing tonight, when he walks into the "Cat's Whiskers" pub in William street for his usual pint and wart hog scratchings.
"AAH! You take a tea break at half past ten!" a booze hound will roar. And wee Ken will stand there, head waxed, screwdriver in hand, blushing like a new bride.
But let's move on.
"Tommy!" I yelled to my cat. "Are you not ready yet? You'll be late for your ballet class with Madame Simpleton."
"I'm looking for my tutu!" yelled Tommy.
"This is no time to conduct an intimate, anatomical examination!" I yelled. "Your wee, pink, ballet dress is hanging over the sleeping wino. Slip into it and come down immediately."
Tommy sprang into the room, legs akimbo and cried,
"Does my bum look fat in these tights?"
"Yes!" I yelled. "Now hurry up and don't stop to talk to any strange men and that includes Steven Nolan."
I watched him skip down the street, then I ran upstairs and came down with a big box.
"Carry out your own face lift" it said on the lid.
I tore open the box and out fell a roll of bandages, a bottle of chloroform and a big knife. With trembling hands I sat down to read the instructions.
(First) Use plenty of Chloroform as anaesthetic.
(Two) When you have fallen asleep, pick up big sharp knife and cut, stab and slash until satisfied with face.
(Three) Use bandages to cover cuts, gashes and horrible damage done to visage.
"Any fool could do that!" I yelled, as I poured Chloroform onto a towel and held it to my twitching hooter. Five times I did that before the penny dropped.
"It's a con!" I yelled. "I can't operate on my face when I'm asleep."
Then Tommy came back from his ballet class. I cornered the feline and soon the cunning plan was hatched.
When I came out of the anaesthetic, the first thing I saw was Tommy, wearing a pink tutu and holding a big knife. My face felt stiff and tight. Tommy had done it. Hehad given me a face lift. I ran to the mirror and fainted. When I was asleep Tommy had super glued a Hitler mask to my face!
There go my callah, gefilte fish and matzah soup tonight. I can't go into Levi Goldstein's delicatessen looking like-THIS!