The two burly spacemen strode rapidly down the walk and climbed into their aircar. Grandma stood transfixed until the little vehicle had climbed far out of sight. Then she opened the present.
In the box she found a delicate bit of jewelry—a solid gold locket. The medallion was shaped like a rocket ship, and along the side of it, spelled out in tiny diamonds, was the name, Dirty Shame. Grandma held it in her hands for a spell, then pulled out a bit of a lace handkerchief and honked loudly.
Turning around, she surveyed her new home again. And she began to think, which was always dangerous. Her conscience, catching the drift of her thoughts, became alarmed.
"Now, Matilda Perkins, you wouldn't dare—" her conscience said to her.
"Oh, you shut up," she retorted. "But it would be awfully nice...."
The spaceship Dirty Shame blasted off from the spaceport in a blaze of fire and smoke. Lamps O'Toole and Snake Simpson were at the controls, and neither of them was feeling much like talking. So, for the most part as they pushed the buttons and turned the switches that headed the ship out into space, they were quiet.
After a while Snake spoke up. "We're going to miss the old dame," he ventured as they pulled dear of Earth's atmosphere.
"Keep your trap shut," growled Lamps.
"Yes, sir, if I just close my eyes, I can still see the old gal, standing there at the micrafoam, giving that old Commodore the business. And you standing next to her, your mouth hanging out a mile."