"Trumpleflush, are you all right?" Churchill called out from across the room.
"Never better, Sir Winston," the plucky centenarian responded.
"Are you in need of a doctor?"
"Indeed I am, sir, but not as much as I need to hear the rest of your account."
"Ah, Trumpleflush, you do us all proud. Though horribly burned from the neck up and likely to be hideously disfigured, yet you are ready to do your duty without a whimper or whine. You, Sir Trumpleflush, exemplify all that is noble and courageous in us and embody the very essence of what has made the British Empire what it is today."
"The Empire is falling to pieces all around us, Sir Winston."
"Quite so, Trumpleflush, quite so."
"In any case, there will be ample time for whimpering and whining later, after I have heard all there is to know of this crucial turning point in our proud little island's history."
"Well said, sir, well said indeed. Now climb back on my lap so I may finish telling you the entire story while filling your ear with my disgusting drool."
As soon as Trumpleflush was settled on Sir Winston's lap, the former Prime Minister went on.
"Now, where were we?"
"You had just said, 'Do you think those dumb as stones Felluchis could have concocted such a clever and fiendish plot on their own?' Then you answered your own question with a gale force gust of wind, "Certainly not!' which sent me flying across the room and rolling headfirst into the fireplace."
"Ah. Well, to finish up, the Nazis discovered through their fifth column sympathizers and moles that Luther Ballantine was of English royal blood and a Rothschild to boot so they planned his termination using the Felluchis as their pawns. A German agent who had penetrated the circus disguised as a midget manipulated the Felluchis into being part of the plot. The brain dead Neapolitans had their own reasons -- envy, spite, jealousy, and shamefully poor sportsmanship -- to want to finish off the Ballantines and never knew of the Nazi's true reasons. After the operation, the counterfeit midget vanished, leaving the dumb as stones Felluchi brothers alone in the dock. Quite ingenious of the Krauts, yes?"
Trumpleflush was struggling to hear Sir Winston's words as his ear canal had filled up with Churchill's viscous saliva.
"Please, go on sir, and if you can, quickly get to the point as my scalp has come off and the skin on my face will soon follow suit."
"Right-o then. King George the Sixth, aware that Luther Ballantine was of royal blood, and Baron von Rothschild, who had initially financed Hitler's rearmament of Germany and was furious that Adolph would then turn around and kill his son, knew the Felluchis were incapable of pulling off the crime on their own and together sent a terse warning directly to Der Fuhrer that if the Felluchis and the German agents behind the plot were not made to pay for their crime, then it would mean war... and no more bank loans or credit."