"Mrs. Benkard Regrets"

Yet another of GrandMama's loyal retainers was an English butler named Meshes.  The way my father Rudolph pronounced it, he made a point of slurring the "sh" so that it became a slithery Russian "zh".  This proved to be an apt rendition, as our butling Brit was prone to tippling from the liquor cabinet.  In fact, the times when he was tipsy most likely outweighed his moments of sobriety, and thus, his slurry sobriquet.

Rudolph and Meshes shared a passion for current events, and spent many an hour huddled beside the radio as they breathlessly awaited news from the European front.  I like to think their sessions went something like this:

INT. - MANHATTAN, 1940 - RIVER HOUSE - SERVANTS PARLOR - EVENING

Meshes and Rudolph sit before the wireless, ears cocked for the nightly news broadcast. Meshes surreptitiously tops off his tea with a flask from his coat pocket.  The announcer's voice breaks through.

RADIO ANNOUNCER

This just in from the front.  German troops suffered massive losses as British bombadiers storm the Rhineland.  

MESHES

(in a British accent, betraying his Cockney roots)

Serves them right, bleedin' Jerries! 

 RUDOLPH

Think of it, Meshes! Wouldn't you give your eye teeth to be flying a B-52?

MESHES

(adjusting his dentures)

Can't say I wouldn't...that is...if I had me eye teeth...

RADIO ANNOUNCER

Hitler's forces followed up with a nighttime bombing run, swarming over the English Channel and pounding the Dover coast.

MESHES

Blasted Fuhrer! I'd like to give 'im what for! I'd beat the livin' daylights out of 'im I would.

Meshes removes his jacket and rolls up his sleeves and goes into boxing mode.

RUDOLPH

Fisticuffs? Brilliant You'd trounce him, I say! He wouldn't stand a chance!

MESHES

(now standing and hopping about the floor, throwing air punches)

Take that, ya little weinerschnitzel! Aha! Gotcha, didn't I? 

RUDOLPH

Meshes! Watch out for his left hook!

Meshes ducks, in reaction to his fake opponent's punch, then bounces back.

MESHES

Oh, you're the sneaky one, aren't you? Look lively now...comin' right back at 'ya...you sour old Kraut!

Just then the door swings open and GrandMama, dressed for dinner, stands, aghast at the jacketless, rumple-haired boxing butler.

GRANDMAMA

Meshes!  For god's sake! Remember yourself!  The British Ambassador will be here in twenty minutes!  Rudolph, stop distracting the servants.

MESHES 

(pulling himself together) 

Pardon me, Mrs. Benkard, but the boy meant no harm.

RUDOLPH

I'm sorry, Mama, it was my fault.  I asked Meshes to turn on the wireless.

GRANDMAMA

I see.

MESHES

Forgive me, Madame, I got a bit carried away.

GRANDMAMA

I can see that.

RUDOLPH

And then Meshes showed me his old boxing moves and well...Meshes just about had the Fuhrer, didn't you, Meshes!

Meshes and Rudolph stifle a conspiratorial chuckle.

MESHES

(under his breath)

We certainly did.

GRANDMAMA

The Fuhrer is nothing compared to the wrath you shall face if I don't see my canapes in place!

Rudolph, get dressed. 

Rudolph sheepishly exits, followed by GrandMama, slamming the door in a huff.

Meshes reaches for his flask and takes an unapologetic swig.

MESHES

(singing)

"Rule Britannia...

Rudolph pops his head in, joining in.

RUDOLPH

(singing)

Britania rule the waves....

They hum the rest of the tune as Rudolph hands Meshes a tray of pigs in a blanket, opening the pantry doors as Meshes, by now quite sloshed, ceremoniously marches forth.

Photo credit - Arthur Treacher