“I understand,” Max said. “He stuck his Fudgy-Nut Bar in his father’s hairpiece. What I don’t understand is why the kid didn’t just tell his father that the protoplasm was bringing back the mother?”
“That way, what reasonable reason would we have had to work the product into the story line?”
Max nodded. “That explains a lot,” he said. “You’re right-it was a tragedy. I’m sorry I laughed.”
A few yards on, they were met by two short chubby, well-dressed men, who were wearing derbies, chewing short, stubby cigars, and standing near a number of in-ground vats. Max looked into the nearest vat and discovered that it was bubbling with dark chocolate syrup.
“They finally got here,” the blonde said to the men.
“What kept you?” one of the men asked Max. “We left a trail that anybody with any brains could have followed with his eyes closed.”
“He’s dumb,” the blonde explained.
“Now, let me get this straight,” Max said to the man. “You wanted us to follow your trail?”
“I thought of it,” the other man said.
“Maybe we better introduce ourselves,” the first man said. “I’m Melvin Means, and this-” He indicated the second man. “-is Wayne Ways.”
“Got it,” Max nodded. “Means and Ways. But that doesn’t explain why you wanted us to follow your trail.”
“We knew a team of Control agents would be sent to follow us,” Ways explained. “And, things being what they are-with all this slanting, so that the Good Guys always catch up to the Bad Guys-we knew that, in time, you’d find us. Then, we’d eliminate you. So, knowing how it was going to turn out-why wait? We let you find us, now we’ll eliminate you, then we won’t be bothered with you anymore. Efficiency!”
“A very good plan,” Max said. “I like it. Except, of course, for the part about eliminating us.”
“That’s my department,” Means said. “And we have the means right here at hand.”
“Efficiency,” Ways repeated.
“I can see only one hitch,” Max said. “What you probably didn’t realize is that no Control team ever leaves on an assignment like this without a second team to back it up. At this very minute, this factory is probably surrounded by from fifty-to-one-hundred Control agents, all armed to the teeth with machine guns, shivs, grenades, and land- to-air communications systems.”
“Land to air. .”
“For calling in an air strike,” Max explained.
Ways frowned. “You said ‘probably’ surrounded. Aren’t you sure?”
“Little mix-ups do happen,” Max replied. “They may have been delayed. You know how traffic is at this time of day.”
“Fifty-to-one-hundred agents?” Means shot back. “Aren’t you sure about the number?”
“Well. . it depends a lot on how many men were hanging around the ready room with nothing else in particular to do.”
“With machine guns, shivs and grenades?” Ways asked.
“Listen,” Max said irritably, “did I question it when you came up with that wildy about a protoplasm kidnaping some kid’s mother!”
The blonde rolled her eye ceilingward. “Dumb!”
“Go out and look around,” Ways said to the young lady. “If you see any Control agents-give us a whistle. They’ll be easy to spot. They’ll be the ones listening to the bricks.”
The blonde hurried off.
“Since we have a few minutes to kill,” Max said to Wayne Ways, “would you answer a question for me? Is Number One really here?”
“Didn’t you hear her?” Ways replied. “We turned her up to ‘High’ so you’d hear the ticking.”
“You know, you’ll never get away with this,” Max said. “Number One is very loyal. She’ll never allow you to brainwash her.”
“You’re wrong,” Wayne replied. “We told her what we plan to do, and the only thing she said was: how much oil is in it for me?”
The blonde returned. “All clear,” she reported.
“Then we’ll just have to wait,” Max said. “I told you they probably got caught in traffic.”
“Tell him how we’re going to eliminate them,” Ways said to Means. “That’ll pique his interest.”
“It is kind of cute-even if I did think it up,” Means said, blushing slightly. “The thing is, it’s got kind of a new angle. There’s plain ol’ ordinary drowning, you know. And there’s common ol’ everyday headchopping. And there’s- But this has got a certain. . well, a certain ‘something’. . the touch of the artist, or something like that.”
“It’s got a theme,” Ways said.
“Right-a theme,” Means agreed. “The theme is: a man-and that includes the ladies, too-a man should die the way he’s lived. Get it?”
“Is ‘get it?’ a part of the theme, or was that a question?” Max asked.
“A question.”
Max shook his head. “I don’t get it.”
“I think I do, Max,” 99 said. “The point is, some men-including the ladies-live bravely, and some live cowardly, and some live inspiringly, and so forth and so on. And Mr. Means believes that a man-including the ladies-should die in the same manner. I think it’s sort of sweet.”
“Wonderful!” Means beamed. “Because that, dear lady, is how you are going to die. In a ‘sweet’ way. We’re going to drown you in this vat of sweet chocolate.”
“Oh, sure-I get it!” Max said brightening. “Sweets for the sweet! That’s very appropriate. Let’s see now,” he mused, “what could you have picked out for me? Something appropriate. .”
“We’ll feed you to the nut chopper,” Means said.
“I get it-in recognition of my sharp mind,” Max nodded. He indicated Hymie. “What about him?”
“Since he’s a machine-” Means began.
But he was interrupted. Max had been edging closer and closer to the blonde. All of a sudden, he reached out and snatched the pistol from her hand. But he did not get a good grip on it and it slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor. Everybody-Max, the blonde, Hymie, 99, and Means and Ways-leaped for it. The toe of Max’s shoe reached it first, kicking it into the vat of chocolate.
“Boy, some kid is going to get a surprise when he bites into his Fudgy-Nut bar,” Max said, drawing his own pistol.
“We’ve just changed the name of the bar to the Fudgy-Nut Surprise,” Ways replied, drawing his pistol, too.
Max fired at Ways. The bullet struck Ways’ gun, knocking it from his hand, then ricocheted, hit a boiler, ricocheted again, and struck Max’s gun, knocking it from his hand. Everybody leaped for the two pistols. In the scramble, both guns were knocked into the vat of chocolate.
Melvin Means was the first to get free. He drew his gun.
“Everybody up!” Means commanded. “Them that’s with me, over here! Them that’s with him, over there!”
But at that moment, Max charged out of the pile-up and hit Means with a powerful block. Means went sprawling backwards-and the pistol went flying. Max jumped up and made a one-hand catch, just before the gun could fall into the vat of chocolate.
He leveled the gun at Means, Ways and the blonde. “All of you, over there!” he ordered. Then he addressed 99 and Hymie. “And all of you, over here-behind me,” he commanded.
Max heard two plops. He looked around. Behind him was the vat of chocolate. 99’s and Hymie’s heads were just bobbing back to the surface. They were chocolate-coated.
Appalled, Max bent down to reach a hand to them. He heard running behind him, and the next moment he went diving into the vat of chocolate. When he pushed himself to the surface, he was between 99 and Hymie- chocolate-coated-and Means and Ways and the blonde were standing at the edge of the vat looking pleased.
“It’s not perfect, but it’ll get the job done,” Means said. “They can’t climb out. And how long can you swim in a vat of chocolate?”
“You may think this is working out for you right now,” Max warned, “but just wait’ll you start getting
