Recently I had occasion to converse w/ Mr. na Gopaleen, Junior re the subject of Mr. Slack IV’s dementia. He—na Gopaleen—had initially considered said dementia to be “creeping,” i.e., early stage, though it now appears to be quite advanced, as evidenced by the demeanor he exhibited subsequent to his recent entry into the Hôtel Adios Watering Hole, i.e., sprawling beneath my barstool in a posture that can only be called outré.
The reader will recall that it was the same Mr. na Gopaleen who had wondered, “How, I ask you, lady and gentlemen, can an Alzheimer’s man not be injurious to the aspirations of the aborning Dead Rights Party?” Though at the time he broached this question, none of us, save Mr. Ennis, took it for the grave matter it was—I, because I was then attending to the small quanta of stout that Chief Rippling River had inadvertently let spill on my hand as he was replenishing my long-depleted vessel, the others for reasons that only they can identify and for which they are accountable.
That said, my colloquy w/ the gentleman concerned the possibility that he, or perhaps the entire Myles Junior Think Tank, might put his, or their, expertise in matters scientific to good use by contriving a palliative that might—might!—mitigate the disease that had laid siege to Mr. Slack’s brain.
Without probing the niceties of his commodious response to my inquiry, I can now report that Mr. na Gopaleen has promised to “give some thought” to such a possibility.