Funny Five Minutes – Frank

N. M. Sirett’s Nonsense Stuff (C)

FRANK

I was aptly named Frank, seeing that I liked to be frank.

And people called me frank Frank.

I also had a mate, Frank.

‘Frank?’ I asked him one day. ‘Do you know why people call me frank Frank, Frank?’

And Frank said, ‘Frank Frank, it’s because you are frank, so you get called frank Frank.’

‘I see, Frank,’ I replied. ‘That’s exactly what I thought. There’s nothing quite like being frank is there, Frank?’

Frank concurred, ‘No, frank Frank, nothing quite like being frank. In fact, I’m rather frank myself sometimes, frank Frank.’

‘Are you, Frank?’ I quizzed, fizzing with intrigue.

‘I am indeed, frank Frank, yes!’ he exclaimed, eyeing me smugly… the sly git.

Then it hit me. Ouch! 

‘Hey, Frank – why don’t they call you frank Frank too?’

Frank replied, ‘Oh, but they do call me frank Frank too, frank Frank. Only when I’m being frank (although, frank Frank, quite frankly, it’s not as often as you, dear frank Frank), I am demonstrably frank, my dear buddy!’

I was amazed!

‘Even still,’ I discerned, ‘Frank – or should I say frank Frank? – if you are also called frank Frank, and I am called frank Frank, then, frank Frank, this may sometimes be a little confusing. Wouldn’t you say so, frank Frank?’

Frank Frank agreed. And grew slightly perturbed. In that straightforward way that he has about him (that I admire so much), he replied: ‘Frank Frank, if we are both then, frank Frank, although you are more habitually frank Frank than I am, frank Frank, most of the time, surely this confuses matters so much so, frank Frank, that it indeed does not make us very frank at all, does it, not-so-frank-Frank, frank Frank?”

There was a pregnant pause while we both dived deep into unreserved contemplation.

It was finally agreed that neither of us would ever be frank again. Nor would we be called Frank. We changed our names by deed poll and our personalities to ambiguous.

I lovingly changed my name to Augustus Lemming (after my favourite Roman Emperor and my favourite mammal).

And my chum changed his name to Sir John Brown.

Neither of us was ever forthright again.

To put it bluntly (and for the last time), problem solved!

Actually, John became slightly flimflam after that, and only spoke a lot of old tommyrot and balderdash; henceforth he became known locally as Sir John Piffle.