Stark jumped to his feet, his face livid. He started towards the phonescreen as if to throttle the two-dimensional image on the glass. "You're a liar!" he cried. "You knew it was an Anger-Emotion Show! You knew what was required--" "I _didn't_ know," Grayson answered, his mustache twitching. "You didn't tell me that. I just assumed--" "You assumed!" The Producer stood up, looking thunderclouds at Dr. Stark. "You knew what kind of show it was, Stark. Why didn't you tell him? We needed an Anger reaction--not Fear! That's what loused up the whole show!" Manford groaned. "What does _that_ matter now? Forty-four cc's of hypnomecholyl! What kind of a doctor _are_ you, Grayson? Don't you know you could _kill_ a man that way?" "I--I didn't know. I never worked with these mecholyl drugs. I studied antibiotics--" "Better if it had killed him," the Producer said darkly. "We might have covered _that_ up. But we can never get him past the FCC examining officer now--" "I swear he told me forty-four! I swear it!" Dr. Stark made a rush at the phonescreen. Grayson backed away in terror, despite the many miles that were between him and Stark's intended violence. With a snarl, the older doctor reached up and turned off the instrument. "Now we're in for it," he told the others. "Maybe he'll be all right," Manford said. "Maybe he'll snap out of it. A little more anti-dope--" "Nonsense," Stark snapped. "If it hasn't worked by now, it'll never work. The overdose has permanently affected his nervous system. He's an amnesiac for good--an amnesiac with a permanent case of the jitters--" Frick shivered. "God! What a fate!" The Producer looked wise. "Yes," he said solemnly. "He'd be better off dead, wouldn't he?" The Staff stared at him. "You know what I'm talking about," T.D. said. "He'd be better off dead. Better for him, for the _Thrill Show_, for us." "Well," Manford said feebly. "Well, nothing!" The Producer's voice was harsh. "Do you get the significance of all this? Do you know what happens when the FCC medical officer wants to re-check Spizer? An injunction! A court battle! Then Spizer goes on the stand as Exhibit A, and we lose. No more _Thrill Show_." He looked at their faces individually. "No more jobs. Bankruptcy. Poverty. The Jam." This time, the shiver was collective. "We can't let that happen!" Manford licked his lips. "What about the sponsors? They got pull, don't they? They need us, don't they? I mean, nothing else will give 'em the kind of ratings they get from the _Thrill Show_--" "Their hands will be tied," T.D. said. "One slip is all the Federal boys have been waiting for. And with all that foreign criticism our State Department's been getting--" "They still buy our films abroad," another Staff man said glumly. "That won't matter." The Producer sat down heavily, and put the cold end of his hookahmatic in his mouth. "The _Thrill Show_ is doomed. Let's face it." The group dropped their eyes to the table.