"No!" the Leader gritted pettishly. "I ponch you in nose!"
"I see," Toffee said. "Suppose I call those guards back in here and let them see you like this? In no time at all the news will get around that the Great Leader has gone off his rocker and is snapping at his own bottom like a beagle after ham hock. A fine laughing stock you'll make, won't you?"
"No!" the Leader pleaded. "No! Oh, soch a pain!"
"Then suppose we have a little friendly cooperation around here?"
"Hokay!" the Leader cried. "I can't stand it no longer!"
Toffee made a pass at the ring and the Leader, after a moment of adjustment, arose.
"How you do soch rotten thing?" he asked.
"You haven't got all the secret weapons," Toffee said. "That's one your agents missed. Now hop to it and start thumbing those discs."
Shaking his head which was heavy with disillusion, the Leader made his way shakily to the desk. He looked at Toffee, then reached for the first of the buttons.
"Don't double cross me," Toffee said, raising her hand. "If you do you'll writhe in agony for the rest of your days."