Flash Mildew, Magician and Soulless Bottom Feeder

The International Language

Last evening I received what is, by my count, the last of the homing pigeons I supplied to Flash Mildew when he departed on his world tour last November. Although the missive does not mention his current location, I judge by the condition of the bird that he has returned to North America.

Instead of the usual unusual trick, which I would aggregate into the may-be-released-someday volume currently titled "202 Ways to Force an Audience to Walk Out on Your Act", the good Mr. Mildew has collected a list of phrases spoken to him on his tour that transcend language barriers to let the magi know exactly the level of wonder that his act has instilled within the audience. Some performers would take these as insults. Flash takes whatever he can get.

Are you doing "Bill in Lemon", or is your nose jaundiced?
Nice tuxedo -- dollar days at K-Mart?
Can you go back to the part where I count down to the sum of the digits of my social security number and then spell my mother's maiden name?
That used to be my favorite trick, until I saw you do it.
I know Mark Wilson... and you, sir, are no Mark Wilson.
You're Flash Mildew, aren't you?
If you had any more wood in your act, you'd need a termite inspection.
Did Marshall Brodien show that one to you?
No really, you are Flash Mildew -- admit it.
Your French Drop looks like a starfish molesting a bagel.