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Yucks Digest V1 #18

Yucks Digest                Sat,  9 Feb 91       Volume 1 : Issue  18 

Today's Topics:
                  How do you say "fore!" in Russian?
                         humor for your list
                            Intermarriage
                  Is this correct a=/* comment */b;
                    Land of the Dinosaurs, Part II
                              More Babel
                       Spill, he said  (2 msgs)
                         The Maltese Function

The "Yucks" digest is a moderated list of the bizarre, the unusual, the
possibly insane, and the (usually) humorous.  It is issued on a
semi-regular basis, as the whim and time present themselves.

Back issues may be ftp'd from arthur.cs.purdue.edu from
the ~ftp/pub/spaf/yucks directory.  Material in archives
Mail.1--Mail.4 is not in digest format.

Submissions should be sent to spaf@cs.purdue.edu

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Date: Thu, 7 Feb 91 19:05:11 PST
From: one of correspondants
Subject: How do you say "fore!" in Russian?
To: spaf

     Space Station Plunges To Earth
   MOSCOW (AP)
   A Soviet space station the size of a railroad car plunged through
the atmosphere in a "rain of fire" over Argentina on Thursday, ending
a month of suspense over where it would land.
   The long period of speculation had triggered panic in one Russian
village, which shut down its businesses and schools for fear of
falling debris.
   The 40-ton Salyut-7 space station re-entered the Earth's
atmosphere early Thursday and "burned out of existence," the official
news agency Tass said.
   Pieces of the spacecraft fell on a sparsely populated area in the
Andes mountains near the Chilean border, the Argentine government
news agency Telam reported. It said Salyut-7 "triggered a rain of
fire."
   Soviet media have closely followed the descent of the 9-year-old
spacecraft the past month. The lack of precise information about the
landing, combined with the Soviet obsession with UFOs and widespread
superstition, caused a wave of anxiety in at least one Russian
village.
   The government daily Izvestia reported civil defense officials in
Upper Baskulchak, about 620 miles south of Moscow, ordered businesses
and schools closed because of the fear debris would strike. Water in
the village was turned off, people bought all the food in stores, and
some residents fled, according to Izvestia.
   As it turned out, Upper Baskkulchak had nothing to fear.
   The Argentine news agency said blazing pieces of the Salyut-7
complex could be seen from several towns in the provinces of Cordoba,
Buenos Aires, Mendoza, San Luis, Neuquen and Chubut.
   By late afternoon, there were no reports of injuries. No fragments
were reported recovered.
   "Thank God there were no victims or destruction," Vladimir
Kolomin, press officer at the Soviet Embassy in Buenos Aires, told
The Associated Press.
   The space station was traveling at about 17,000 mph.
   Tass said that just before the spacecraft entered the atmosphere
at 6:47 a.m. (10:47 p.m. Wednesday EST), ground controllers tried to
direct it toward water, but there was not enough fuel to complete the
maneuver.
   Soviet diplomats were put into action to notify Latin American
countries of the expected time and place of the fallout. Tass also
said the United States and Soviet Union activated national Centers
for the Decrease of Nuclear Danger to exchange information.
   The superpowers set up the centers in 1987 to exchange information
about ballistic missile launches, nuclear weapons tests and arms
control treaties.
   The space station was put into orbit in April 1982, the last one
in the Salyut series, which is the second generation of Soviet
spacecraft. It hosted 10 crews, two of them international.
   Tass said the station should have stayed in orbit for several more
years, "but solar activity suddenly increased in 1988, and the
station began sharply to descend." Sunspots create solar winds, a
stream of ionized hydrogen and helium that decays a spacecraft's
orbit.

------------------------------

Date: Fri, 8 Feb 91 11:37:35 -0800
From: fznoble@deneb.ucdavis.edu
Subject: humor for your list
To: spaf

at a party recentely, one of our Japanese grad students (in costume
for the celebration of the repeal of prohibition) was told he looked
like a gangster. When asked what winery he was going to buy, (a lot
of wineries have been bought by japanese companies lately) he look us
straight in our eyes and deadpanned: the state of Oregon.

------------------------------

Date: Fri, 8 Feb 91 15:00 EDT
From: "Robert M. Hamer" <HAMER@Ruby.VCU.EDU>
Subject: Intermarriage
To: yucks-request

The following is from an article by Joanne Gruber, SPY Magazine, August 1989.

     DADDY, YOU'RE NOT A FOOL TO CRY - YOU'RE JUST TERRIBLY CONFUSED
 
    "Rolling stone guitarist Bill Wyman, 52, married his teen-age
  sweetheart, Mandy Smith, 19, in a secret ceremony in Bury St. Edmunds,
  England, yesterday." - The New York Post, June 3, 1989.
 
    "And because we don't like to leave any Stone unturned, we thought
  you should also know that Mandy [Smith]'s 40 year-old mom, Patsy, is
  now dating Wyman's 28-year-old boy, Stephen." - The Daily News, April
  21, 1989.
 
    Mandy is now Stephen's stepmother, and Patsy is Bill's mother-in-
  law.
    If Stephen and Patsy marry, Mandy will be her own mother's
  stepmother-in-law. Mandy's stepson, Stephen, will also be her
  stepfather. Stephen will be his own father's stepfather-in-law. Patsy,
  Bill's mother-in-law, will also be his daughter-in-law. Moreover,
  Stephen and Patsy would be step-grandson and step-grandmother as well
  as husband and wife.
    If Bill and Mandy have a baby - a girl, let's say - the baby will be
  Patsy's granddaughter AND her sister-in-law. The baby will be Stephen's
  half-sister AND his step-granddaughter.
    If Stephen and Patsy have a baby - a boy, let's say - the baby will
  be Mandy's half-brother AND her step-grandson. The baby will be Bill's
  grandson AND his brother-in-law.
    Bill and Mandy's daughter will be Stephen and Patsy's son's half-
  aunt AND his niece.
    If, however, Bill and Mandy's daughter and Stephen and Patsy's son
  were to marry, it would probably be incest.

------------------------------

From: scs@adam.mit.edu (Steve Summit)
Subject: Is this correct a=/* comment */b;
Newsgroups: comp.lang.c

In article <532@ctycal.UUCP> pat@ctycal.UUCP (Patrick Woo) writes:
> I have the following line in some third party source code
> a=/* This is a comment */b;

In article <584@taumet.com> steve@taumet.com (Stephen Clamage)
answers correctly and then wonders:
> ...why any compiler should accept =/ and friends any more
since they were
> ...listed as already obsolete -- 13 years ago!

What I am wondering (pardon my French) is which pencil-necked
"third party" cretin wrote that shit in the first place?  I'm not
yelling at you, Pat, but please tell us exactly who, so we can
string him up by his thumbnails.  There are at most two places
for code like

	a=/* This is a comment */b;

neither of them any good:

     1.	the obfuscated C contest, and
     2.	these silly discussions.

Anyone who sticks a comment like that in anything even remotely
resembling production code should probably be dragged out behind
the barn on an icy, moonless night and put out of his misery with
a 12-gauge like the pathetic dying mongrel he is.

------------------------------

Date: Fri, 8 Feb 91 13:32:19 -0800
From: bostic@okeeffe.Berkeley.EDU (Keith Bostic)
Subject: Land of the Dinosaurs, Part II
To: /dev/null@okeeffe.Berkeley.EDU

Newsgroups: comp.unix.aix
Subject: Re: UPPERCASE userids on AIX 3.1

In article <1991Jan27.203959.7401@eplrx7.uucp> mroz@eplrx7.uucp (Peter Mroz)
writes:

> Due to circumstances beyond my control, we are setting up some users on an
> IBM RS/6000 with userids that are ALL UPPERCASE.  These users are migrating
> from MVS and we are trying to make the transition as painless as possible.

------------------------------

Date: Fri, 8 Feb 91 20:46:41 PST
From: one of our correspondants
Subject: More Babel
To: spaf

     Woes Blamed On Spirit Of Babel
   CANBERRA, Australia (AP)
   The "unholy spirit of Babel" is at the root of many of the world's
problems, including the Gulf War, a leading South Korean churchwoman
said Friday.
   "It is a spirit of so-called upward mobility, acquisitiveness and
division," Chung Hyun-Kyung told delegates to the World Council of
Churches' policy-making assembly.
   "The story of Babel is the story of human greed without
limitation," she said. "This tower of greed made all people divided.
They talk to each other, but no longer understand each other. They
have lost the ability to feel with each other, imprisoned by their
own greed at the expense of others.
   "This madness for possession divides human communities and finally
destroys our fragile Earth."
   Chung, a professor at Ewha University in Seoul and member of the
Presbyterian Church, was one of the main speakers at Friday's plenary
session.
   In her speech, she blamed the spirit of Babel for the Gulf War,
the division of North and South Korea, apartheid in South Africa,
genocide of indigenous peoples worldwide, environmental damage, and
the "devaluation" of women, children, people of color and the
handicapped.
   Ms. Chung urged Christians to take a more active role in improving
society and not rely on God to do all the work.
   Ms. Chung said traditional Christian creation theology and Western
thinking should borrow a page from Eastern precepts and re-examine
the long-held theory that humans are the center of the universe and
have dominion over the world.
   "Human beings are a very small part of nature, not above it," she
said. "Human beings have exploited and raped the Earth for a long
time; now is the time that nature and Earth are beginning to take
revenge on us. They do not give us clean water, air and food any
longer since we have sinned against them so extensively."
   She also said society must move from the "culture of death" to the
"culture of life."
   "What is happening right now in the Persian Gulf shows the best
example of the `culture of death,"' she said. "The way the conflict
is solved is through killing the enemy. By abolishing the conflicting
part, they think they will achieve peace.
   "Peace achieved by this kind of violence, however, will only lead
the world into greater control or oppression. No cause can justify
the innocent shedding of blood in a war."
   The assembly, which opened Thursday, is meeting for the first time
in eight years. More than 4,000 people from 316 churches in 117
countries  represening some 400 million adherents  are attending the
two-week session.

------------------------------

Date: Wed, 6 Feb 91 19:12:09 CST
From: "Patricia O Tuama" <rissa@gargoyle.uchicago.edu>
Subject: Spill, he said
To: eniac@mejac.palo-alto.ca.us

	From: sfisher@wsl.dec.com

	Saddam Hussein has a secret passion for "Little House on the
	Prairie."
	
	--Scott "It must be true, it's a headline in the Enquirer" Fisher

hah, next you'll be telling me he likes frango mints and that
he collects barbie dolls and baseball cards

today i was walking down state street when i was accosted for
the fifth time by someone trying to sell me a small american
flag with yellow ribbon wrapped around it.  "tony orlando, you
have a lot to answer for," i thought to myself

but then i got to thinking about that song and wondering why
yellow?  yellow is the color of cowardice, yellow roses mean
jealousy.  granted it's also considered a bright, cheerful
color but it has it's down side.  so what else could he have
used?  tie a red ribbon around the old oak tree?  nah, that
sounds like christmas (as does green) or valentine's day.
and besides red and green only have one syllable and the ly-
ric really needs two.  tie a purple ribbon 'round the old oak
tree?  orange?  olive?  scarlet?  navy?  khaki?  madder?  cop-
per?  marine?  carmine?

oh i know!  tie a peacock ribbon 'round the old oak tree!

trish, spending too much time in artist supply stores

------------------------------

Date: Fri, 08 Feb 91 23:56:33 EST
From: Gene Spafford <spaf@uther.cs.purdue.edu>
Subject: Spill, he said 
To: "Patricia O Tuama" <rissa@gargoyle.uchicago.edu>

According to Marilyn Leary, the yellow ribbon biz was around long
before Tony Orlando.  In a Gannett News article published in the
Lafayette paper on Thursday (NB. *not* the world's greatest or most
timely newspaper, as is the case in most small towns; the headline the
same day was something like "Dewey Beats Truman."), Ms. Leary gives
a history of the meaning behind yellow ribbons.

The tradition iof wearing a ribbon goes back at least to the Middle
Ages (not the same as the 40's and 50's, boys and girls) when knights
would request a token from their ladies to wear into combat.  They
would often be given scarves or ribbons (probably to keep from getting
the ladies' favorite slips from getting covered in blood and mud;
besides, they could double as a tourniquet in extreme circumstances).
The tradition carried into the last century, and maybe some into this
one, although it probably isn't quite so common these days.  (Imagine
the Crips and the Bloods getting ready for a fight, or the Marines
preparing to storm the beach outside Kuwait City:
   "Yo, what's that scarf for?"
   "It's a token from my old lady, man -- it's luck."
   "Knowwhatchamean -- I'm wearing Darlene's pantyhose."  )

It seems that the yellow ribbon is related to why the Army's 7th
Cavalry is nicknamed the "Yellow Legs."  Their uniform pants had
(have) yellow piping down the side.  Over a hundred years ago, the
wives and sweethearts of the 7th's members (who were off slaughtering
Indians and buffalo and generally making the prairie safe and boring)
would wear a yellow ribbon, often around their necks.  This was to
proclaim loyalty and pride in their men.  I'm assuming they wore more
than the yellow ribbon so as not to appear to proclaim the wrong
thing.

In 1917, a song was very popular called "Around her Neck She Wore a
Yellow Ribbon."  This was copyrighted by a George A. Norton, and was
roughly the same as a song associated with the 7th Cavalry since 1870
or so.  The song itself appears to be derived from an English folk
tune at least 150 years old, where the lyrics describe someone wearing
a willow twig in her hat for "12 months and a day."  (This,
undoubtedly was before conveniently prepackged potting soil became
widely available.)

In 1949, John Ford made a movie staring John Wayne called "She Wore a
Yellow Ribbon."  According to Ms. Leary's article, "It featured the
World War I song and planted the music and words firmly in the
consciousness of the United States."  (See my comment about potting
soil in the previous paragraph.)

In 1951, during the Korean War, the Andrews Sisters (sort of like 1950s
Wilson Philips, for those of you who haven't heard of them) remade the
song and sold over a million copies.  It was evidently quite popular,
especially amongst members of the 7th Cavalry, and the ribbon
manufacturer's association.

In 1973, Tony Orlando and Dawn (the backup singers, not the
dishwashing detergent -- if you are thinking suds, you have him
confused with Lawrence Welk) did their "Yellow Ribbon" song.  It was
written by Irvin Levine and L. Russell Brown, and was about a guy
returning from prison.  Some hostage's wife in New York state
somewhere got the yellow ribbon movement going in 1979 when Iran took
all those US citizen's hostage in the US.  

The idea was resurrected a few months back when our troops were first
sent to the Mideast.

Me, I'm a traditionalist.  I'd recommend that the ladies go through
their closets and send their out-of-style fashions addressed to "Any
soldier, Saudi Arabia."  Men with scarves -- now is a good time to
quietly unload those too.  Willow sprigs that fit in helmet straps are
also recommended,  If all you have to send is old sweat socks, send
those to Saddam.

------------------------------

Date: 7 Feb 91 08:25:05 GMT
From: scannell@bubba.ma30.bull.com (P Scannell)
Subject: The Maltese Function
Newsgroups: rec.humor.funny

{ed This article is rather long and only mildly amusing with a few
good points to be found within.  Read it if you wish.}

Copyright 1991 Patrick D. Scannell
Used by Permission

                 "The Maltese Function"
 
Pragma Spade looked across his desk at the bizarre group which
had gathered in his office: Bridgid Stack-O'Verflough, the
mysterious woman who was not what she seemed (but was what she
seemed not to be); Caspar Gauteux, the corpulent French collector
of rare and curious software; his gun-wielding assistant, Wilmer
Flintstone; and the swarthy, unpredictable Cole Gyro.  Behind
them, the office door with the legend "Spade and O, Private
Inspection Consultants" (The door painter had been shot dead in
the midst of scraping off Spade's ex-partner's name, but
fortunately none of the shots had hit the glass.) reminded Spade
of those who were not present: Floyd Thorough, Bridgid's late
partner; Miles O'Fay, Spade's equally late partner; Captain
Steubing, the late captain of the Pacific Princess; and Tommy
Dorsey, the late bandleader.  They had tried, all of them, to
outwit him, but now he was holding all the cards.  Better still,
he had all the cards and a gun.
 
Since thinking ahead had done him no good whatsoever, he thought
back, back to the beginning of the case.  Bridgid had come to
them looking for an experienced Project Inspection Coordinator (PIC)
to be the third person in a code inspection, and after
a careful consideration of the facts of the case (especially
those facts which were encased in silk stockings or had portraits
of Benjamin Franklin on them) Miles had agreed to act as
Moderator and Recorder.  But something had gone wrong.  Floyd
Thorough had been shot leaving his hotel, and Miles had been
found not long after drowned in a vat of beer, not even his usual
brand.  Spade remembered the joke about the man who drowned in a
vat of beer (which makes two levels of flashback, so save your
context) who got out twice to go to the bathroom, but in real
life it was a shock.  Even the hard-bitten police lieutenant had
never seen anything like it.  "He's our first drowned draft PIC,"
was how he had put it.
 
Ms. Stack-O'Verflough had gone into hiding, and Spade had begun
combing the Inspection Clubs for clues.  Were the two deaths
related?  What was the point of the flashback, if not?  Was it the
work of some demented Serial Inspection Team Killer?
 
One other, even more gruesome, possibility had occurred to him.
He had heard rumors, maybe only legends, of killer software,
source code so convoluted that one look made instant death.
Could it be more than rumor?
 
He had visited some the old-fashioned inspection clubs, where the
speed of inspection was kept with a steady drumbeat, just as in
the days when galley slaves rowed the Roman warships.  (The
practice of inspection had first been used to verify the
correction of printer's proofs, which were called galley proofs
for this reason.)  The beat could be anywhere from a slow one-two
to what was still referred to as "water-skiing speed":
 
    LOAD bit and SET true, BRANCH false for ERror!
    NOW load in AR five, STORE with an OFFset!

No one there had heard of any Inspection killings, except a few
isolated incidents of Moderators shooting Inspectors for failure
to prepare adequately.  But it was that kind of town, you had to
expect things like that.
 
At the Rock Inspection Station, Spade learned nothing more
(except a new dance):
 
    Load the contents of location into Register 3
    (Singin' do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do)
    Then compare it to zero cause that's what it's s'posed to be
    (Singin' do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do)
    Branch here, branch there
    It's an error, you're nowhere!
 
He did hear a rumor about a big shipment of magic mumbers coming
in from Haiti (which, as an Inspection Consultant, he would have
to watch out for), as well as rumors of zuvembies (or zombies),
who were now being referred to as "reuseable coders."
 
At the Inspection Disco, they call the Reader a "Rapper."  The
beat was different but the story was the same:
 
    He loads it IN a double WORD
    and shifts it LEFT it sounds abSURD
    then shifts it RIGHT leaves one bit LEFT
    to give that VALue he can TEST!
 
    Stop!  Defect time!
 
At On The Code With Jack Kerouac, he relaxed and listened to the
laid-back Reader (but of course he was looking for defects,
because that's the rule) with his bongo drums: "Then, like, if he
finds an error he branches to the error routine" bip bip BOP
"which is, like, a cool thing to do because it illustrates the
erroneous nature of existence, you know?"
 
Finally, he tried the Metropolitan Inspection House, where they
were inspecting "Das Rheincode."  At the Met, the Moderator was
addressed as "maestro", and the work product was read by a chorus
of Readers, interrupted by frequent cries of "Hojotojo!"  (This
is apparently a Spanish word, since it is pronounced "hoyotoyo",
and it means, "I think I've spotted a defect!"  It has nothing
whatever to do with Japanese motels with orange roofs.)
 
    Load up the REGister!
    Compare it to ZEro!
    Branch if it ISn't!
    Because it's an ERRor!
 
Finally, Spade had given up.  There were no clues to be found.
But then Cole Gyro had come to his office, holding him at
gunpoint while he searched Spade's data base.  Apparently he
hadn't found what he was looking for.  Spade had knocked him out,
taken away his gun, and searched him, finding only fifteen knives
in assorted sizes and a huge selection of fake diamond jewelry.
"A real cut-and-paste type," he had decided.
 
Later, he had also taken away Wilmer's gun, and later
accidentally given Wilmer's gun back to Gyro, and vice versa.
Now they were both mad at him.  Wilmer claimed the .22 made him
look like a sissy, and Gyro said carrying the heavy .45 gave him
lower back pain like you wouldn't believe.  Gyro wasn't speaking
to Spade, and Wilmer's last comment had been, "Yeah, well inspect
this, pal!"
 
Then the Pacific Princess had caught fire and burned to the
waterline, almost injuring Charo, and Captain Steubing had ended
up dead in Spade's outer office, with a knife in his back
inscribed "Courtesy of Cole Gyro."  But more than that, he
carried a diskette with him which contained a single source
file.  Spade had cleverly mailed it to himself electronically,
with a time delay, and deleted the original file from the
diskette.  (That's just the kind of bold, no-backup-copy guy he
was.)
 
And now (Pop your original context off the stack please.  All
set?  Good.) he had them all in his office at gunpoint.  Now he
could get some answers.  If only he could think of a question.
Wait a minute!  That was it!  "What's going on, anyway?"
 
"Egad, sir," said Gauteux, "I like a man who gets right to the
point, even when he hasn't any.  Are you familiar with the island
of Malta, sir?"
 
"Vaguely.  It's where Malta milk comes from, isn't it?"
 
"That's correct, sir.  But what you may not also know is that it
was a sort of cultural center for the art of software development
in the late fifteenth century.  So much so that the Pope himself
at that time commissioned the software artisans there to write
him a sort function for a new programming language being
developed by the Jesuits.  Naturally, the artisans wanted to make
it the best sort function they possibly could, and they designed
the greatest sort algorithm ever created, before or since.  But
in the end they were unable to debug it thoroughly.  Can you
imagine how difficult it is to write machine code using Roman
numerals?  Eventually they ran nearly a century over their
original schedule.  They did not, of course, have Time Line to
help them out.  Did you know, by the way, that Stonehenge was
built by the Druids as a tool for scheduling development of a
large operating system?  No matter, sir, I digress.  To make a
long story short, sir, the object code was delivered to the Pope
(though not the same one) with several bugs in it, and the
compiler was never shipped outside of Italy.  The source code was
captured by pirates and believed lost, but it exists, I tell you,
and we are about to see it."
"You mean the diskette Captain Steubing had?"
 
"Exactly, sir, exactly.  Floyd Thorough procured it for me in
Istanbul, and then attempted to steal it.  We believed that he
had mailed it here electronically, but in fact it was smuggled
over on the Pacific Princess on a diskette hidden in Charo's
guitar.  What puzzles me is why Steubing brought it here, instead
of giving it to Miss Stack-O'Verflough."
 
"It's just one of those comic mixups he's so famous for.  Was so
famous for.  But why does anyone want it, except for historical
interest?"
 
"It's the greatest sort algorithm ever created.  If we can
inspect it using modern inspection methods and get the defects
out of it, it would be worth millions."
 
"I see.  And what do you have to say about all this, sweetheart?"
 
"Nothing," said Ms. Stack-O'Verflough.  "I'm only here because I
couldn't get tickets to 'Cats.'"
 
"That's too bad," he said.  "Because --"  Suddenly a bell rang,
and message came up on Spade's terminal indicating that he had
mail from himself.  "Here it is," he said, and printed out a
copy.  He examined it, then handed the copy to Gauteux.
 
"Now, as I was saying, someone's going to have to take the fall,
and I think you're it, beautiful."
 
"Watch it with the names, pal."
 
"I meant the little lady."
 
"I'm six foot four, bub."
 
"I may just shoot you all an have done with it.  I've got such a
headache."
 
"Perhaps, sir, you should finish what you were saying.  Someone
to take the fall, you say.  You mean for the murders of Thorough
and O'Fay?"
 
"No, they knew the risks when they became software engineers.
They should have known better than to get careless."
 
"Steubing, then.  I must confess I am curious to know who killed
him."
 
"Anybody who got a look at that source code, I'd say,  It's not a
pretty sight."
 
"That's true, sir, that's true.  But now tell me, what is this
fall you're referring to?"

"Well, what happens when you inspect that code?"
 
"Why, I expect it will require a rework, by the look of it."
 
"And someone's going to have to do the rework.  And it's not
going to be me.  The original Producer is long dead."
 
"I see you're point, sir.  And you favor casting the young woman
in that role?"
 
"Who else?  Wilmer or Gyro?  Neither one could code their way out
of a paper bag."
 
"Perhaps, sir, you'd like to discuss this with the lady alone.
We could wait in the foyer."
 
"Yeah, do that."
 
"Why are you doing this to me?" she asked.
 
"Forget it kid.  Any program with that bad a history should be
thrown out and rewritten.  You want to go with them and do the
rework?  You'll be at it for twenty years.  But I'll wait for
you, precious."
 
"I don't think so.  Now what?"
 
"I'll give them the diskette and they'll go."
 
"Just like that?"
 
"They think they've got a fortune, and if they don't have to
split with me they'll let you out of it."  He turned to the
machine, dumped the source onto a diskette, opened the door and
tossed it to Gauteux.  "Here, take it," he said.  "It's the stuff
defects are made of."
 
                             THE END

------------------------------

End of Yucks Digest
------------------------------