Futility

It looked like rain.

He'd heard the announcer gargling and making other bizarre preparations. To Bertie, that was like tuning up a Rolls Royce; regardless of what you did or didn't do beforehand, it was a sure bet that it would see you safely to your destination.

I don't think anything short of a miracle would guarantee I'm not going to make an ass out of myself.

"Sir? We're ready for you now."

Bertie approached the microphone Before him, the audience blurred into an imperturbable mass.

He opened his mouth. As if on cue, rain began to fall.