Huber came striding over fast, and the look on his face was sufficient to make the foreman drop both Martian and sandwich.
"Gee, boss, I—"
"Never mind!" Huber thundered. "You had the chance. Now you're getting your walking papers! Get out of here, Curly! Get out of here now!"
"But Mr. Huber—"
"I said beat it! You're not the foreman around here any more. And in case you want to know who your successor is, take a good look!"
Huber pointed a shaking finger at Chafnu, who bowed his head modestly.
"... and here it is, folks! The big one! The top one! The melody that swept the Solar System! You've proved that you love it. All the disc jockey requests, all the record sales, all the juke-box half-dollars have shown that, once more, for the forty-first week in a row—the number one tune on your hit parade is—"
"Melancholy!"
"But don't get excited, folks! Because I'm not going to play it for you! I'm going to spin it all for myself—and you can just sit there and drool! And if anybody wants to fire me for it, let 'em go ahead and see if I care! Heh, heh, heh—Ulp!"