Somewhere in Dayton, Ohio, a telephone rings.
A receptionist answers, “USAF National Museum, how can I help?”
“I’m phoning from Bellevue. I wondered... would your museum be interested in a nuclear missile that I have in my garage?”
“Sorry, did you say ‘a nuclear missile’?”
“It’s OK, it’s inert. I only really collect live ones.”
The Museum has a simple protocol for such moments. Lights flash everywhere and panic ensues. But our receptionist remains calm.
“Em… sir… where did you obtain this missile?”
“From my friend Don. Lives near Cincinnati. He didn’t want it, though. He only collects Russian ones.”
A receptionist answers, “USAF National Museum, how can I help?”
“I’m phoning from Bellevue. I wondered... would your museum be interested in a nuclear missile that I have in my garage?”
“Sorry, did you say ‘a nuclear missile’?”
“It’s OK, it’s inert. I only really collect live ones.”
The Museum has a simple protocol for such moments. Lights flash everywhere and panic ensues. But our receptionist remains calm.
“Em… sir… where did you obtain this missile?”
“From my friend Don. Lives near Cincinnati. He didn’t want it, though. He only collects Russian ones.”
