"Cleetus Ferbderbler, Boy Improvisor, Returns from World Tour and Announces Retirement"

Dear Everyone in the World and Beyond,

  As you know, I sometimes tour for a certain well-known "comedy school": I am told the happy North Korean workers at the Peoples' Glorious Cement Factory #6 still chuckle (on their own time, of course), recalling my robot voice.
 
  I was delighted to hone my craft and preserve world peace at the same time.

 Last week, however, after our most recent tour, I went in for a "chat" with Ms. Klisterschmuck, the head of touring.

  "Ms. Klisterschmuck," I expolsulated, "I quit."

  "Now, Cleetus you idiot, you don't want to do that."

  "Ms. Klisterschmuck, I don't know if you know it, but my last name is Ferbderbler, a fine old name, not idiot..."

  "Touchy, touchy: You're probably jet-lagged from the tour."

  "Ms. Klisterschmuck,  we traveled to our last appearance in Damascus at the Displaced Persons' Camp # 472 by a vintage 1947 prop plane, not a jet.  Then we traveled by van to an Ebola hospital in the Congo---it took two weeks.  Our per diem was calculated in maize."

  "Cleetus, thousands of young improvisors would kill for these opportunities."

  "Ms. Klisterschmuck, I will miss the comraderie, the $65 a show, and the per diem calculated in the local currency..."

  "By the way, you still owe us from the North Korean debacle: How anyone can spend $600 a day in North Korea and not own the place is beyond the accounting department..."
 
  I raised my hands in a gesture universally signalling, "Enough!"
 
 "Enough!"  I said.  "I am moving to LOS ANGELES!"

  "Bon voyage; leave your forwarding address with accounting."

TO BE CONTINUED...

"Cleetus Ferbderbler, Boy Improvisor, Announces New Tour with Famous "Comedy School"

Dear Everyone,

Well, as those of you who follow my adventures know, after my terrifying descent into drug addiction,
(July 26---28th), I became a drug counselor.
  After the ruckus when I returned their quiz results, I was seriously doubting this career path, when Fate, that merry minx, interrupted with a phone call from a certain famous "comedy school":
  Ms. Klisterschmuck, Director of Touring: Cleetus, you idiot.
  Me: Ms. Klisterschmuck, my last name is Ferbderbler, not "you idiot."
  Ms. K: Whatever.  I need you to tour with 3rd World Co next Tuesday to Egypt.

After some heavy duty bargaining re; per diems! (I now know to demand more than $1.65 per day; this tour I'm getting $2.50!  Score!).

After Cairo, we are scheduled to appear at something called Ebola Camp # 2, which should be a hoot.

All in all, quite a relief from drug counseling!

"Cleetus Ferbderbler, Speaks Out on Revolting Drug Addicts"

Dear Everyone,

Well, my terrifying descent into drug addiction (July 26--28th) yielded many interesting experiences, but none more terrifying than when I returned their dismal quiz results to my group of "ex" junkies.

Honestly, drug addicts have a rather poor reputation: You would think they'd appreciate an honestly-graded written quiz.

The revolt began with Doc (everything in group is completely confidential; however, I will hint that he has that name for a reason{if you need heart surgery in Evanston, consider going somewhere else; I'm just saying}.

  "Um, Cleetus?"
   "Yes, Doc?"
   "Is there some reason you marked me down on the frequency of bus service to Humboldt Park question?"
    "Yes, Doc, there is: You wrote 'My Benz does my biz,' which was not the question; as a graduate of Princeton, I expected better of you."

There was a bit of a kerfuffle: Many in the group did not appreciate having an Ivy Leaguer in their midst.  Even my degree in improvisation and cooking from Valdosta Community College raised a few eyebrows.

We then broke for coffee, and surprisingly, no one returned. 
How fickle drug addicts can be!