GODZELDA DESTROYS SALINAS

Malcolm D. Monster directed his expanding retail empire from the top floor of the Monster Mart Tower in Dallas. Naturally enough, his was the most spacious of all the offices in the unusual M-shaped highrise. From his desk he enjoyed a spectacular view of the city skyline plus his prized modern art collection, but today the C.E.O.’s mind was elsewhere.

“Miss Hotchkiss!!” he bellowed over the office intercom. “Where’s that guy Krasse’s contract?”

Elsa Hotchkiss, ten years executive secretary to the mercurial retailer, looked up from her computer screen. “On your desk with the mail,” she answered snappily.

“Well, I don’t see it! You got to help me find that rascal!”

Miss Hotchkiss sighed. She had scarcely one hour left to get out these memos he’d been calling for all morning. Now he was all in a dither about the contract with this flaky new advertising agency. Lester Krasse rubbed her the wrong way. Elsa finished keying a sentence, got up and joined her boss in the office.

“Right here,” she said, tapping a finger on the executive’s “In” basket. “With your mail.” She pulled the contract from the stack and plunked it down on the polished mahogany desk.

“Miss Hotchkiss, you’re wonderful! Now, when that Lester Krasse calls about the dinosaur, put him right through.”

“Honestly, you really think he’ll turn up that Tyrannosaurus Rex?”

“He’d better! That gosh-awful tape of his made me look like an idiot! And nobody makes a fool out of

Malcolm D. Monster twice. Nobody! Besides, there’s more than enough money in the pot to motivate ol’ Lester. More than enough.”

“You’re both loony, if you ask me,” Elsa remarked on the way out. Mr. Monster picked up the contract and scanned it several times. Chuckling, he tossed it into the wastebasket. Then he began looking through the mail. A few minutes later, the intercom trilled.

“Lester Krasse for you, Mr. Monster,” chirped the secretary. “Just like you figured.” She transferred the call.

“Malcolm? Great news!! Your dinosaur’s all set! We just need to work out the details of our contract.”

“If you got my dinosaur, your contract’s a done deal, Lester. But I’ll want to actually see this critter for myself. You understand, of course....”

“Sure! You’ll see her when we shoot the TV commercial at the store, day after tomorrow.”

“Fantastic! But I am concerned ‘bout one thing though,” Mr. Monster confided. “Can we be ready in time for the grand opening? That’s the sixty-fourdollar question.”

“No sweat, Malcolm. The TV and radio broadcast from the store’s all arranged. And we’re already on the radio promoting the dinosaur’s personal appearance. Your signs and billboards go up today. The direct mail piece is at the printer. All that’s left is the TV stuff.”

“Dynamite! Sounds like you really got it together this time.”

“There’s just one thing--- Can you guys arrange a truck? Something big...?”

“Big enough to haul our dinosaur? You betcha! I’ll

put Peterson on it. He’ll be in touch directly.” “Oh! —And Malcolm, we’re gonna call her

‘Godzelda.’ That okay with you guys?”

“Call her anything you want,” Mr. Monster said expansively. “This is your show!” The mega-retailer could barely contain his delight. After Krasse hung up, he summoned Jerry Peterson to his office.

“I just got off the phone with Lester,” he enthused. “The dinosaur’s a definite go! ‘Godzelda,’ he calls her. Says we shoot the new TV stuff day after tomorrow at the store. So I want you to round up a crew of our best people and one of our big trucks, and you go meet him in Salinas. Call him right now and take care of this personally, Peterson. Then, get right up there. We can’t afford any screw-ups, understand?”

No screw-ups. Jerry nodded. He understood alright. His company was about to embark on the most important promotional effort in its twenty-five year history. The success of the new Salinas store was crucial to Mr. Monster’s plan for a chain of Monster Marts on the West Coast.

He wants me there to ride herd on that flaky ad man and the Tyrannosaurus Rex, he thought. Some assignment! What was it Malcolm had called her? Oh yeah, “Godzelda.”

“I’ll leave tonight,” he replied.

Next issue: Episode 10 Take Thirteen