Crossley said, "Courage, Mr. President. Use the croquet hoops."

"Croquet hoops?" Krauss seized Crossley's arm.

"Invisible croquet hoops," Crossley smiled.

"No." Krauss triumphed. "People will stumble, be hurt, even killed by them. The Word Org would stop you!"

"Oh," said Crossley. His face fell. "Look, Mr. President. About those hoops. Forget them. Proceed with Plan 40 and 45 instead."

Another phone rang. Krauss picked it up, answered it.

Your wife, Herr Krauss.

"All right, put her on."

"I'm okay, Mr. President. Had a little engine trouble."

"What!"

Darling, the most terrible trouble!

"Katrina, I have no time. There is much to do."

This is important, you fool! It's horrible!

"Well, what is it, my liebschen? I'm busy."

"Answer me, Crossley, were you shot down?"

"Not exactly, Mr. President. They're trying to figure out a way to kill me. Haven't hit on one yet."

"Mr. Crossley, please, not so loud, I can't hear my wife talking. Yes, darling?"

Hans, Hans, I have dandruff!

"Say that again, I have so much noise here, Katrina."

"I'll call you again in an hour, Mr. President."

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