Shit, I hate it when that happens!When we got home, I put together a team of psychologists and philosophers in hope that they could come up with a sol...tion to that problem, but I didn't expect much of the effort. Still, I had to try.Well, it looked like I had won my battle with NASA, such as it was. NASA had given up on manned space missions and was hiring us to put robotic test instruments in various places around the galaxy. They had bought some FTL radios and were busy collecting data from. Except women." I wouldn't put it past them to have a few dames stashed away, too," Bookie Teperman contributed as he emerged from the shadows behind them. "Unless I miss my guess, here comes the gas canister."Harry looked at the striped skunk waddling down the road, in the general direction of the rapidly retreating RCAF Regiment infantrymen. "Maybe it's not Captain Whitefeather providing tonight's amusements," he reflected.Bookie calmly and gently approached the small mammal, which submitted. The 206 is popular for short hauls around the state and the B200 is real popular for flights around a thousand miles."The doc nodded in understanding. "I'm going to recommend light duty for another two weeks anyway, but you can do anything you need to do. Just duck better and make sure you're wearing a vest. I'll transmit this to D.C. for you. You've healed a lot faster than could be expected. They're lucky you don't have a workman's comp problem."Since I was so close, I stopped in at the. "You here to look for Bigfoot?" van Gurbin asks."Uh-uh," Carly replies."And the beav-coon," Spencer adds."And Robin's Wieners," Sam interjects."We already found those," Freddy responds."I hate five," Sam boasts."They are good hotdogs," Spencer comments."Yes, they are a fine wienery," the doctor says. "So, any sign of Bigfoot yet?" Not yet," Carly replies in disappointment."Me either," van Gurbin answers back. "But I know he's out there. Well, happy searching."And with that Dr. van Gurbin.