Marco Roly-Poly Meets The Mysterious East

January, 1970

I was five years old when I volunteered to stooge for the local conjurer at a Christmas party. "What a nice little chap," he said. taking me on his knee. "But I think he needs oiling." He produced a mammoth oilcan and threatened me with it. I screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed. Never again have I screamed so loudly or so continuously. The magic show had to be abandoned, then the party. I screamed all the way home; I screamed when they were putting me to bed; and...