Louie Leppedimay and the gaggle of Universal Crudification Miss Americas once again thwart evil, choke down Old Styles, lie religiously at the Dugout, golf up a tepid storm, and otherwise flounder along the fuzzy boundary separating intellectual acuity from bumbling idiocy. How they manage without serious wounds, other than toward pride and good taste, remains an eternal mystery.

Inquisitive spats With cats and rats With oceanic storms Through lost and found Orbs launched out of bounds Dancing round skeptical scorn But at the 19th dinette Where you settle all bets Evilists end up forlorn

Someone gone missing Someone gone dead Some eerie interpretive Cards are read Dog, cats and autos Might not be there But Louie'll find 'em Fifty per plus 'L' fare