Fred Stoddard: “Some place they have here, eh? Off-beat. A little too advanced for my taste, this single dwelling idea, but maybe—Ben sure must have landed something juicy with Amalgamated to afford this. What the devil is he pushing, anyway?”
Scoville Wilson (shrug): “Beats me. You know, before dinner I cornered him at the bar to see if I could slip in a word or two of sell. Damned if he didn’t sign an order for my Cyclo-sell Junior Tape Library without
even a C level resistance. Then he talked a bit about the drinks and I thought sure he was pushing that new model Barboy. I was all set to come back with a sincere ‘think it over’—and then he took a bottle from the Barboy, added a dash of vermouth to his drink and walked off without a word of sell. He always was an odd one.”
Lucy Wilson (turns from woman talk with the other two wives): “Oh no! I knew it wasn’t the Barboy set. They wouldn’t have him set so slow. Besides didn’t you hear the way she carried on about the nursery and that lovely Nana?
That must have been a build-up, but Ben goofed his cue to move in on Sco and me for a close. Doesn’t Amalgamated handle those nurseries?”
Tom Bartlett: “Amalgamated makes almost anything. That’s the puzzle. I dunno—but it must be something big. He has to hit us with something, doesn’t he?”
Belle Bartlett: “Who ever heard of a party without a sell?”
Nancy Stoddard: “Who ever heard of a party going past ten without at least a warm-up pitch? And Betty promised Fred to send both Ben and Bennie to the Clinic for their Medchecks. You know we have the newest, finest diagnosticians—”
Fred Stoddard: “Nancy!”
Nancy Stoddard: “Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be selling you folks at their party, should I? Come to think, you’re all signed with Fred anyway, aren’t you? Well, about Ben, I think—”