When we finally got the ship repaired and was about ready to take off, a ship arrived from headquarters, carrying a most important visitor, a Mr. George Cooper, head of publicity. Wearing beautiful clothes, his fingers manicured, delicately perfumed--for he was a sensitive man--he descended from the lock. Molock and Shad Brisbee greeted him. Cooper smiled urbanely at them. "He wants to dance, Shad," Molock said. "Try out your new step on him, the one I've been teaching you." With one single forearm jab, Shad Brisbee knocked Mr. Cooper clear back into the ship the publicity man had just left. Then Shad turned eagerly to Molock. "Tell me ... do I dance him good...?" "Shad," Molock said, beaming. "You dance him beautiful." The smile on Molock's face was a heavenly thing. * * * * * Well, that's about it, except for the pics, the ones Rita took of the dance and other carefully selected horror shots of some of the less beautiful aspects of this Eden in the Sky. I understand these pics are terrific box office on Earth. All we know is that they're kicking credits in to us so fast that we're all getting rich, Wilkerson, Molock, Mrs. Molock, and me. Of course, we're not exactly trying to double-cross the publicity department of Trans-Space, Inc., but if you are thinking of coming to Venus, it might be wise to see our picture first. It will give you a little more rounded view of a place that is a little short of Heaven ... about a couple of billion miles short of it. And, if you are thinking of coming to Venus, you had better take one other thing into consideration--the promise Molock made to Shad Brisbee before the Venusian would concede defeat in dancing. Shad made Molock promise to teach him this new and wonderful form of dancing that humans knew. Molock spent two weeks doing exactly that, which accounts for the enthusiastic greeting Mr. Cooper got from one of the tame Venusians. I understand this form of "dancing" is spreading like wild fire over the Veiled Planet. If you are thinking of going to Venus, you had better take in consideration not only the fog flies, the forty foot boa constrictors, the blue tigers, but the fact that every blasted Venusian native now considers himself an expert at "human dancing" and spends most of his spare time looking for humans to practice with. Unless you're fully prepared to "dance" with these Venusians, you had better think twice before deciding to settle on this Eden in the Sky. THE END End of Project Gutenberg's Publicity Stunt, by Robert Moore Williams