Expeditio (ex-pe-di’-ti-o): After enumerating all possibilities by which something could have occurred, the speaker eliminates all but one (=apophasis). Although the Ad Herennium author lists expeditio as a figure, it is more properly considered a method of argument [and pattern of organization] (sometimes known as the “Method of Residues” when employed in refutation), and “Elimination Order” when employed to organize a speech. [The reference to ‘method’ hearkens back to the Ramist connection between organizational patterns of discourses and organizational pattern of arguments]).
My drawer was empty! All my underpants were gone, Why? Who would benefit from ownership of five frayed and grey pairs of underpants graced with indelible skid marks—something left over from childhood that I just couldn’t shake. My mother tried to teach me how to wipe more effectively. But, I just couldn’t learn. My mother gave up when it became inappropriate for her to fool around down there.
Anyway, I had noticed my char woman eyeing my underpants drawer, and had found my underpants rumpled up on occasion. As sick as it sounds, I have caught my sister Nell with her face burrowed in my underpants drawer. She went “Mmmm” as she moved her face around. Then there’s the butler, Pimpalong. I caught him wearing a pair of my skid-marked underpants on his head, singing “Silly Hat” from Barney the Purple Dinosaur Show. These three people were my primary suspects. Clearly, they all had a fascination with my underpants. I counted out the char woman. She had no place to hide stolen underpants. All she had was the cardboard box she had been given to keep her “stuff” in. I looked in the box. No underpants. She was cleared.
Next was my perverted sister. She was my prime suspect. So, I would question the butler first. On the night of the robbery, he was at the “Roman Nose Pub” until closing with his friends, who corroborated his story. Then, he took the Vicar’s wife home with him to spend the night drinking sherry and reading their favorite novels. The Vicar’s wife corroborated his story. So now, it was time to question my pervert sister.
I asked: “Did you steal my underpants?” She squirmed around in her chair. I lifted her dress. Nell was wearing all of underpants. Clearly, she was the culprit. I angrily told her to take off my underpants. She complied, taking them off one at a time. When she got to them bottom pair, I noticed they had a fresh skid mark, courtesy of Nell! How creepy. I didn’t know what to do. Nell had caught me with my hand in her underpants drawer the week before. It was perfectly innocent. I was looking for my shoehorn that Nell would borrow and forget to return. I said: “Nell, if you don’t steal my underpants again, I’ll let you stick your face in them in my underpants drawer.” She agreed and kissed me.
Definition courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu).
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