The Stoat Gambit

He approached me in the in plaza, smiling. Without a word, he handed me a card. It read “Marcus Wallaby the Third. Effing up the ineffable a specialty”. I was befuddled. He said “what can I do for you?”

I snapped myself out of confusion. This was a crucial moment. I breathed in and spouted out, "I want to be adopted as your son and be renamed as Marcus Wallaby the Fourth." He cocked his head and eyebrows at the same time in extreme surprise. I hurried to explain further. "But

"..wait he said I have something to tell you!". He looked away, took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. My eyes widened with a look of "Go on"..he said " You are already my son, you were taken and I did everything in my power to get you back." My mouth fell open.....

He was lying. He had to be lying. It couldn’t be my dad... could it?

There was only one way to be sure, a mis-question that he would quickly correct if he really was who he claimed to be. "Remember when I threw that stoat over our house and it landed on your face when you were sunbathing?". It wasn't a stoat I threw over the house, but a

dirty diaper I’d found in the alley. “What’s a stoat?” He asked. Not the right answer... or maybe he just didn’t know what a stoat was. “Do you remember or not?” I asked. He simply shrugged. “Can’t remember what I don’t understand.” My plan had failed.