Conversation Between the Author's Senile 82 Year Old Grandfather, the Author, and Very Briefly, Knish, the Elder's Dead Dog

Grandpa

Knish.  Knish.  Knish! 

Me

Uh...Grandpa, Knish isn't here.

Grandpa

 What do you mean?  Where is he?

Me

 Dead.

Grandpa

 How long ago?

Me
Two years.  Give or take.

Grandpa

 Did an ironclad get him?

Me

 They don't have ironclads anymore, Grandpa.

Grandpa  

 Fiddlesticks!  What are they using for naval engagements now?

Me

Submarines.  They're kind of like ironclads that operate underwater.

Grandpa

Witchcraft!

Me

 No, maritime engineering.  Witches have nothing to do with it.

Grandpa

 Communist treachery!

Me

 Yes, communists are often treacherous dogs, but the invention of the submarine had nothing to do with communists.  It was just science.

Grandpa

 I don't trust them.  Damned rust-buckets in the water.  How do they move?  Do they use Orientals with oars?

Me

 Nuclear propulsion.  See...

Grandpa

 Because Chinamen made a damn fine railroad.  Swinging their hammers every which way.  Goes to assume they'd be good oarsmen.  They'd be awful coxswains.  You'd never be able to understand their jibber jabber.

Me

 A cox...what?  Why are you talking about an Asian's penis?

Grandpa

You try spending all of May 1954 without Chinese penis in you.

Me

Wait.  You fooled around with guys?

Grandpa

I shot McKinley.