The Army
I'm not a fighter. I, ah, I have bad reflexes, and I can't fight. I was once run over by a car with a flat tire, being pushed by two guys. And I was not in the army, in case you were wondering. I was in the canine corps. Strange story, when I was young, I wanted a dog, and we had no money, we were very... my father at that time was a caddie at a miniature golf course in Brooklyn, y'know. I couldn't get a dog, 'cause it was too much, and they finally opened up in my neighbourhood, in Flatbush, a damaged pet shop. They sold damaged pets at discount, y'know, you could get a bent pussycat if you wanted, a straight camel, y'know. I got a dog that stuttered. When the cats would give him a hard time, he would go "B-b-b-b-bow wow", y'know. He'd turn all red, y'know. We wanted to send him into the army, but the papers got crossed up, and they got me instead of him. I was in the canine corps for two weeks. Me and eleven dogs was the outfit. Taught me how to heel. Sergent was a little mexican hairless, y'know. I was not in the regular army. I was classified '4P' by the draftboard, we went to war, I'm a hostage.
ibras.dk is a marvellous site for Woody Allen fans. Although already established by this time (1964) as one of America's foremost comedy writers and performers, it's still wonderful to read some of his early work. Available from
amazon.co.uk
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