So I take the piece and tell him I'll try it after I finish the truckload of stuff I'm working on. But along about coffee time, I go and burn my hand kind of bad on the welder, and have to get the nurse to bandage it up for me, and that slows me up a good bit. Everybody else in the department had left for washup by the time I put the gismo in the machine. I kicked the pedal just like I always do, and whoosh! I was out like a rookie the first time he faces Allie Reynolds. Seems like I saw a flash of bluish-greenish light, but I don't know for sure. * * * * * Next thing I knew, a squatty guy with broad shoulders and bushy eyebrows was standing over me. He said, "Well, did the Yankees win the Series?" and his accent sounded like he should be following the Dodgers instead. I looked around. It was kinda dark, like just after the sun goes down. I was sitting on a big strip of limestone, and I could see a few trees and some small hills, and lots more of those limestone rocks, or cliffs. It wasn't like any part of the country I've ever seen before. The guy starts giving me the once over, too. "What monkey in that zoo they call the Pentagon picked _you_ for a job like this? I knew the Defense Department was hard up, but I didn't think they were _that_ hard up!" Then I notice this geezer has a uniform sporting top sergeant's stripes. I jump up and back away from him. "Look," I says, "I don't know what happened, but I know I didn't volunteer for no army job, and I'm too old to be drafted again. I must have had amnesia. I wanna lawyer. Lemmee out of here--you're not giving me that army routine again--no siree." (Mr. President, please don't misunderstand me. I'm as patriotic as the next guy, and I assure you I won't shirk no duty if I'm needed, but I don't have to _like_ it, do I?) The guy's dumbfounded. He doesn't give me a strong-arm deal like I'd expect from a top-sarge--he just looks as if he can't figure it out. Then he grabs me by the shoulder. "Wait a minute, Mac, let's sit down and talk this over. Who the hell are you? Where did you come from? Who sent you?" I'm about to say "Groucho sent me," but I decide maybe I'd better be serious. I tell him my name, and that I ain't got the faintest idea where I am. "Okay, Tuck," he says. "They call me Yogi. Now let's take it from the beginning, slow and easy, huh?" So I tell him what happened in the plant, and before I get done Yogi is laughing like crazy, in fact he sits down on the rock and almost knocks himself out. "Well, what in Sam Hill is so all-fired funny? Who kidnapped me while I was knocked out and dumped me on this God-forsaken army post?"