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Bosh: Absurd or foolish talk; nonsense [Tactile Tuesday]


1. Absurd or foolish talk; nonsense


“You know perfectly well—and it is all bosh, too. Come, now, how do they proceed?” — Mark Twain, The Gilded Age


Frank slapped his left arm with his right and gawked at the two men sitting in the corner. He turned to Lance and slurred. ”You know these guys over here,” his good arm rose toward the men. “They know it, man. They just know it.” 

     Lance ordered another whiskey and leaned his back against the bar. He made his best at a vague glance. 

     ”Yeah, just a couple of fools, aren’t they.”

     ”Ha, yeah, they’re all just a couple of fools!” Frank yelled boisterously. 

     The men in the corner now had the two drunk’s attention.

     Frank erupted with laughter. 

     Lance stood up straight and gathered his whiskey. 

     One of the men approached. He wore a fine sport coat made from fabric they’d never seen. His hair was finely cut and styled. He spoke. ”What’s all this, guys?”

     ”What’s all what, guy?” Frank was getting more drunk with each sip. His laugh was a slurred flurry of mumbles and high pitched yelps. 

     Lance stepped in.

     ”Meant nothing by it.”

     ”Oh? Because from our seat it looked like you did.”

     ”Oh jus’ sit’own you old idiot,” Frank said. 

     The other man rose and removed his jacket. He rolled his sleeves as he calmly approached.

     ”Idiots?” The man in front of them stood closer to Frank.

     ”Bunch of fools if you ask me,” the man with the rolled up sleeves said now siding his friend at the bar.

     ”Seems like they should be held to their bosh and chatter.”

     Larry left his whiskey at the bar, turned, and landed a fist into the man’s nose.

     He hit the floor, and before his friend could look them in the face, Frank had slugged him cold between the eyes. 

     The bar exploded in clamor and chanting as the drunks kicked and swung until their rumbling brought them all to the floor.