FURTHER NUKULAR FALLOUT – Another casualty of the leak of televactive terribilium from the Vermont Cranky Ante- Nukular plant has become known. Local entrepreneur Rizzard Nawabi has advised us that his water-borne enterprises, RV River Tours, Dick’s Docks, and Nawabi’s Authentic Galley Rentals were adversely affected when news of the leak leaked.

“Into the toilet,” Nawabi bellowed, madly waving his arms, “that’s where my business went! Nobody wants t’ get near the river because o’ this! I’m gonna sue!” Customers have been reluctant to board one of his 38’ converted RVs for a float downriver, or to take up a seat behind an oar on a galley for a strenuous row upriver. Tearing at his bristly hair, the wild-eyed businessman (who claims, alternately, to be descended from the Sheik of Araby or the Sultan of Swot) vowed revenge on the plant owner, Entropy Dystopian Nonsystems, whilst at the same time thinking aloud about creative ways of cashing in on the problem.

“Wotcher needs is lead,” he mused, looking thoughtfully in the direction of the local lead mine, which he happens to own. Before This Columnist could ask further questions, Nawabi leapt onto his horse and rode off in all directions.

Two days later he invited YML down to Dick’s Docks to view his new enterprise. As we nervously approached, the canny businessman lumbered toward us, holding out a curious garment and bidding us step into it. This turned out to be a full-body wader, such as is used by Hermetical persons for their fishing expeditions in the Dog – except that this was made of lead! Our movements were clumsy as Nawabi guided us toward the docks, where we found another figure swathed in one of these suits, showing only his face. This was the Hermit of Frost Road, who had shown up to inaugurate the winter fishing season. He stepped carefully into his inflatable over-waders

duplicates of the ones that nearly drowned him previously) and then felt his way down the steps and into the river. The Hermit drew back his arm to cast a line, lost his balance, and plunged straight to the bottom!

On the dock Nawabi “danced a dance like a semi-despondent fury,” waving his arms and shrieking that his best leadlined waders were gone (wasting no sympathy, we noticed, on the hapless Hermit). Things looked dark, for the hermit’s usual rescuer, Chief Nylon, was hors de combat, but within seconds, a giant ripple appeared in the water, and “what to our wondering eyes should appear” but the U-38! Yes, dear readers, it was that last relic of World War I, the last surviving vessel of the Imperial German Navy, sent so many decades ago to annoy traffic on the mighty River Dog, and for so long ignorant of the fact that the War had ended!

Surfacing in front of us, the Uboat lifted the Hermit from the depths of the river. Opening the hatch, the astonished Kapitan observed the flailing object, and, after ascertaining that it wasn’t a giant river tortoise (which would’ve made a lovely soup), ordered the boat to draw up to the dock. His centenarian crew clambered out, laid hands on the struggling, squawking Hermit, and with a mighty heave, tossed him onto the dock, where he rolled to a stop at our feet. The crew then goose-stepped the length of the boat, singing a lusty chorus of “Hoch der Kaiser.” At the conclusion of this, they retreated below, U-38 gave a blast of its whistle and set serenely off on its next mission.

Nawabi and his employees peeled off the Hermit’s inflatable waders, tugged him out of the lead suit and sent him on his way with the strong suggestion that he not darken their dock again. Miraculously, the Hermit emerged from his ordeal unscathed, save for his face, which, because it was the only part of him not covered by the lead waders, is now glowing a lovely shade of green.