Word: vag
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...Vag approached the building with some trepidation. Looks pretty gruesome, he thought, as he viewed the big red crosses in the windows. But then he read the inscription above the door: "Through This Door Pass Those Who Willingly Gave Their Blood in the Cause of Freedom . . ." Gee, it makes me feel like one of Earl Carroll's girls, he said to himself, and feeling much better, he pushed open the door...
Inside at the desk a lady in a natty Red Cross uniform asked his name, checked it on her appointment list, and gave him a big card with the number 56 and other paraphernalia. "Read these questions and try to answer them while you wait," she said sweetly. Vag looked them over, and was intrigued by some of the questions--"Coughed up Blood Recently?" "Shortness of Breath?" "Swelling of the Feet?" In another column was the verdict which they would pass on him after he left, with such significant entries as "Fainted" or "No Blood." Wondering for the first time...
...Vag was bothered. He paced up and down the room, stopping every so often to kick an old copy of the "Lampoon" under the studio couch. This war was getting under his skin. Once this compulsory athletic program begins I won't even be able to stand up, much less walk around, he thought as he collapsed into an armchair. Stretching out a languid hand for a quick-energy chocolate bar, he reflected on the meagreness of the evening meal. A man needed more than that under his belt after four weary hours in Harry's Club. He'd really...
...even with an accelerated program you had to take off at least one night a week. Even the Dean's Office admitted that. But then they claimed you could get eight hours' sleep every night, too. Dean's Office or no Dean's Office, this was Vag's night off, and he didn't know what to do about it. All the girls he'd called were spending the evening either learning about the innards of automobiles for a motor transport course, or boning up on incendiary bombs and blackouts for the A.R.P. exam. He'd seen the movie...
Suddenly the Vagabond jumped up. "This is what they mean by softness," he shouted at the top of his lungs; and the inmates looked up in alarm, each one putting his finger on the page of his book so as not to lose his place. "This," shrieked Vag, almost forgetting his hangover as he dashed his pipe to the floor. "Away, you manifestation of an era of physical and intellectual decadence," he shouted as he stamped on the offending briar. "That's what I am. I'm soft, flabby, weak. Remember Pearl Harbor...