Did Gravy lose the debate? Well, I suppose I can let the cat out of the bag now that the truth has been revealed. To see the event in all its glory, you'll still have to wait a few days, but here's how it went.
Bermas started talking about something--I think it was Bermas. I adhered to my plan of seizing the psychological upper hand by emitting a series of Tarzan yells. The Boys appeared flustered. As I ripped off my microphone, I noticed that Mark was already naked and standing on the table. I became a human whirlwind, all elbows and feet. Unfortunately, my kinetic energy caused me to overshoot, and the full fury of my assault fell on the cameramen. Acting independently, Mark had gone through a plate glass window and was racing down the hall, screaming like a banshee. Hereabouts I distinctly heard Gary Popkin, the producer, speak the word "hoses."
What happened next is somewhat unclear. I recall lying on the sidewalk, soaked to the skin, thinking that something was terribly wrong, that it was Thursday night and the weekend hadn't even begun yet. One of the cops said something about a "fast-paced show." This morning, I find that my car is now the property of the firm, Neidelman-Goetz-Neidelman. I have to look into this.