Winston Groom - Gump & Company

An Mister Letterman, who feels like he must be in charge, I think he ain’t sure what to do, so he motions behind the curtains for the hands to get a big ole stage hook, an haul my fat ass off the stage. An the stage hook has just grapped me behind the collar when all of a sudden, out of the audience, a missile sails across the footlights. Little Forrest, it seems, has got so excited he has chewed up his entire Academy Award program, account of they don’t serve no popcorn at the Oscars, an so he is armed with what might be the world’s largest spitball. An when they are tryin to pull me off the stage, little Forrest thows the spitball an hits Mister Letterman square between the eyes!

Gretchen is horrified, of course, an cries out, “Oh, my goodness!” But let me say this: It was a sight! All of a sudden, all hell bust loose. People begun jumpin up an hollerin an pointin an shoutin, an the nice Mister Letterman is flounderin around behind the speaker’s platform, tryin to pick the spitball off his face.

But then from out in the audience, I hear one shout above all the rest, an it is this: “That’s my dad! That’s my dad!” An I gotta tell you, that was enough for sure. So I reckon you can say we been there, an then the curtain comes down on all of us.

You know what I mean?