(from Liberty by Garrison Keillor)
". . . And at the very next Committee meeting, Viola Tors lit into him and said, "Why did CNN not identify our town? Nobody said 'Lake Wobegon.' No name on the screen. Who dropped the ball there? And why did they not refer to Delivery Day? And why was the four-minute silence completely overlooked?"
She looked straight at Clint as she said it. He replied that he was not the TV director and that probably they didn't call it Delivery Day because It's take too long to explain about the bowling balls falling from the sky like artillery shells and in the end people wouldn't believe it anyway so what's the point? She just harrumphed and said that he ought to listen to his own speech about taking care of details. That was Viola. A killjoy. She had a terrier who was just like her, a headache of a dog who liked to hector other dogs. Every yard was Booji's territory and he bristled at the very existence of other dogs. He was a barker from the word go. Like him, Viola had discovered the usefulness of belligerence. In this town, people tend to back down if you bristle at them. They don't want to tussle.
She tapped a pencil on her big front teeth and shook her little curly head and rolled her blue eyes as if he were the dumbest boy in the third grade. . . "
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