It was almost roses， roses， all the way. The fans kept on laughing and<br >joking， even into the asperities of JFK Airport.<br > SPEAK TO US GREEN MOUTH， cried their noble banners， in priceless fan<br >embroidery， too overwhelmed to give punctuation a single hem-stitched<br >thought.<br > RAZZMATAZZ FOR TAZZ.<br > "Don t leave us! We ll ma， ke ya President!"<br > What measure was the unit of laughter? The ha? A million units of ha<br >were expended as the admi bing throng gladly， proudly， lugged Green<br >Mouth s luggage to the First Class Check-In. Every one of the faithful<br > needed to lay a plump hand on the sacred suitcases.<br > More units， as baggage moved on the metal loop away into concealed<br > realms， piece by precious piece. More units， as the throng shuffled slowly<br > towards Duty Free Zone and final farewells. More units， pained now，<br > before they could possibly say goodbye to her. A little chorus of units<br > trickled among the streams of ha-less humanity filling the lounges.<br > Green Mouth was always at the centre of the chorus， triumphal， regal.<br > Almost silent herself， the catalyst against whom the ha-units she<br > generated beat in vain. It was a fine performance， Dr Clement Winter told<br > himself. He should not worry. There was no real cause for worry.<br > The noise， the banners， the nervous mirth， provoked Green Mouth<br > continually to smile her grim smile， and to chuckle her grim chuckle，<br > which even the most admiring could not effectively imitate. Laughter was<br > not for her but for the acolytes. Chuckles were power-based， laughter was<br > weakness. She floated slowly towards SHOW PASSPORTS， stately as a<br > cinema butler， be-ringed hand up to shoulder to adjust green cloak.<br > Some of those jostling near asked her questions， harmless things<br > intended as no more than tribute. To these questions， Green Mouth<br > tossed remarks of some brevity: "We ll have to see about that."<br > "That s one for my agent." "What do you think? We d all like to<br > know that."<br > Each little coded reply provoked more units of ha. The throng loved，<br > thrilled to， such effortless arrogance. They ate them like dog biscuits. And<br >II<br ><br >