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No time for Toffee!
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The Supreme Head cleared his throat and Eternity rattled with phlegmy discontent. Baleful glances were exchanged all around.
"Well," said the Supreme Head, after a pause for attention. "I suppose you all know the reason for this meeting by now?"
The Second Head, a bald party with large ears, nodded sadly. "You say this blighted Pillsworth has gone and got himself shot this time?"
"Precisely," the Supreme Head affirmed. "In a broadcasting studio, if you please. There's simply no keeping that man out of trouble."
"But why should we want to keep him out of trouble?" the Third Head, an elongated customer with eye pouches, wanted to know. "That's hardly our responsibility."
"There's George Pillsworth," the Supreme Head said fatefully. "Surely you haven't forgotten about George?"
A hush fell over the Council, a hush of horror.
"Not George again?" the Second Head shuddered. "We don't have to face him again, do we?" He looked around beseechingly at the others. "After all, Pillsworth's only injured, isn't he? He's not dying?"
The Supreme Head looked for a moment as though he wished he had shoulders so he might shrug them hopelessly. "The vibrations are confused again," he sighed. "I don't know what the interference is around Pillsworth, but the call never comes through clearly. All we know is that he's gotten himself into another mess of some sort and is either dead or dying."
"It seems that the subversives are still strongly active in the United States, and of course Pillsworth couldn't stay out of it like a good citizen. He was approached by some men delegated by government authority to take control of national advertising. The theory was that American advertising could be used as a strong combative propaganda weapon against the enemy propaganda already circulating through the country. A committee was delegated to secure the cooperation of the nation's leading advertising agencies. Naturally, since Pillsworth is the nation's leading advertising executive, they contacted him first."
"Then Pillsworth is a subversive?" the First Head enquired. "That's how he got into trouble?"
"Not at all," said the Supreme Head. "That's just it. Pillsworth wasn't subversive, but the government committee was."
"Eh?"
"Exactly. It turned out that the program was one of the cleverest propaganda schemes ever devised. Actually, their aim was to insert alien ideals into the nation's advertising."
"But you said the plan had government approval."
"That's the really clever part of it. The method of presentation, while seeming on the surface to denounce the foreign creed and uphold the American one, actually was designed to win support for the enemy. The sales psychology employed was of the negative."
"Negative?"
"That's correct. It's the old principle of telling people they don't want a thing until they develop a feeling of defiance and decide they are going to have it. It's an extremely subtle approach, but almost infallible if properly developed. Knowing this, these men had a perfect plan, so subtle that even the government didn't recognize it. Also, they had help from within. A certain Congressman Entwerp pushed through the legislation."
"But Pillsworth saw through it?"
"Instantly," the Supreme Head nodded. "It was a principle he had been using assiduously for years, in fact the very one through which he achieved his success. The whole plot was as clear as a May morn the moment he heard it. That's when the trouble started. He contacted Congressman Entwerp."
"Oh, dear!"
"Indeed. Entwerp responded by holding Pillsworth up to ridicule."
"But Pillsworth had logic on his side."
The Supreme Head smiled tolerantly. "That's the Earth for you every time," he said. "Show a human a bit of logic and he gets truculent on the spot. Pillsworth was denounced as a witch hunter and instructed under penalty of law to cooperate to the fullest."
"Shocking," the Third Head said. "I begin to feel sorry for this Pillsworth."
"Pillsworth was similarly shocked. But he didn't feel sorry for himself. Despite his inclination for the quiet conservative life, he fought back."
"Good," the Fourth Head put in. "I'm glad; it gives the story zip."
"My thought in telling you this," the Supreme Head said caustically, "is merely to inform, not entertain."
"Sorry, sir."
The Head nodded acknowledgment. "But to get on, Pillsworth presented his case to a news broadcaster and asked to be allowed to recite his story to the nation in the interests of national security. He was shot. By whom we do not know; the fellow got away. But the fact we must hold in mind is that he definitely was shot."
"Then it really is serious," the Third Head said. "We may have to interview this deadly George after all."
"It's unavoidable," the Supreme Head sighed. "There's no way around it."
"But we're not positive Pillsworth is dead yet. Couldn't we wait and be sure?"
"His vibrations have been broken," the Supreme Head said. "Actually we have no cause to hesitate." He sighed. "I suppose we might as well get it over with."
The others nodded in reluctant agreement. There was an oppressive silence.
"But didn't we banish George?" the First Head said. "We must have after his last excursion to Earth."
"That's right," the Second Head agreed. "I remember distinctly. He attempted to fire poor Pillsworth off into outer space without a pressure suit. We banished him to the Void to sing bass in the Moaning Chorus."
"We certainly picked the right party for the job," the First Head reflected. "There isn't a more base spirit in all Limbo. Has he been summoned?"
"The stinker is crossing the sloop even now," the Supreme Head amended, his gaze fastened hauntedly on a disturbance in the outer mists. "Here he comes."
"Secure your valuables," the Second Head said morosely. "And keep your hands in your pockets."
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