Tom Manshreck is in town. Tom was living in NYC, working in publishing. There's a lot of publishing around there. Tom was working on engineering textbooks, but he still cares about the literary stuff.
Evidence: Tom came home from work one day and outside his apartmeent found an abandoned dog. He took in that dog. He named that dog Faulkner. I met Faulkner last night.
If this was a joke, then Tom would have told me, "This dog can speak English." And to prove it, he would have asked
"What's sandpaper like?"
"Ruff, ruff"
"Where is the chimney?"
"Roof roof"
"Name a fictional county"
"Yoknapatawha"
...but this wasn't a joke. It was a good evening with old friends.