The first time Munitions Galore story convinced me that Wolverine was a successful spy was an advert in a Janes’ publication.  It boasted of a bomb that a good operator could “convert” to dirty.  Once loaded with radioactive wastes, no CBRNE expert could clean up the blast area.  An ad caption asked, “What could this do to Manhattan shopping?”  Above the caption was a gorgeous apartment. A more or less naked woman, with chic outfits on a chair behind her, stood in anguished horror with a platinum credit card covering a nipple. Caring people could see her sorrow at the obliteration of life and clothing in her favourite boutiques.

If you read the whole advert, you got details. For example, you learnt that you could pay an upcharge for a stealth jacketed bomb. Your stealth bomb would be undetectable to the prying electrical eyes of NGA.  A retired Lieutenant General of indefinite national affiliation explained how it was vital to have this bomb before Putin bought them all.  The advert mentioned that, according to rumours, Putin helped finance the bomb’s development. After all, he might decide to take a profit rather than buy all these bombs.  Lord Caligula had also agreed to a speaking tour to tout the bomb.

When a grinning Lord Caligula showed up for an interview with an irate “Morning Joe” team, his Lordship swore he hoped nobody ever used the bomb unless “absolutely necessary. ” He denied Munitions Galore got any money from Putin or the Chinese. If you believed his Lordship, that was all fake news. Rumours denied, his Lordship started scolding the Morning Joe hosts. “Why” he sniffed, “has nobody on the “Morning Joe” team mentioned that the Munition Galore adverts never encouraged anybody to explode this type of bomb.” With watering, sad eyes, his Lordship reminded anybody watching Morning Joe (though he conjectured few watched) that the new bomb was meant as “a deterrent.” If it explodes, you’ve lost your deterrent.

Mika then got up the nerve to ask, “A deterrent against what?”  Without losing a beat, Lord Caligula invited her to learn the answer over dinner with him that night. He adored the company of older women.  

Whilst his Lordship stared lewdly at her and Joe Scarborough, he told Mika to leave her hysterical, boring husband at home.  For a moment I feared Joe’s eyes were going to pop out of his head.  Before Joe could recompose himself, Lord Caligula sashayed from the set laughing. Mika shouted after him that she probably didn’t have time to dine with him. “Do keep a table for two. It’s hard for me to pass on a scoop.” For some reason, Joe’s face went as crimson as a blushing cuckold.   Had he been at a Cardinal game, his red face would have guaranteed him invisibility in a sea of red caps.

The same evening Tucker Snarlson denounced the “Morning Joe” for its mean-spirited, hostile interview of Lord Caligula.  His snarling escalated. He denounced the Morning Joe hosts’ implication that President Putin had no right to invest in Munitions Galore projects. If Putin had, as Lord Caligula claimed, declined to invest in “the greatest advance in anti-war bomb-making since the hydrogen bomb,” the answer was at hand.  We all know how sensitive Putin is. He hates violence. It makes him sad.

Ever an educator to the people, Tucker didn’t stop with a lesson on Putin. He had charts. Out they came. Tucker displayed a few tables to tell the story. The new bomb was so humane that it killed far few people when it exploded than “even a small H-bomb would do.”  Not being able to help himself, Snarlson reminded viewers that nuclear weapons have never been used on anybody. After a look at his teleprompter, he emended, “Save the warlike Japs.” Perhaps sensing a faux pas, Snarlson snarled. “I already know the word police will attack me for using the “J” word.” Indeed. Imagine, if you will, the new bomb’s advert. Picture, gentle reader, the relief of that naked shopper in her penthouse at Tucker’s calling to her mind his Lordship’s reassuring words on bombs. A safer bomb is a great comfort.