Moscow suddenly realized last week that its prime funny magazine, the Crocodile, had not been seen for a fortnight. Nobody was greatly surprised. But the Crocodile had not been suppressed. Fact was its editors had laughed themselves weak, sick and hysterical, over a joke they had not even printed.
Several months back Crocodile editors got the Soviet high command's unofficial permission to put to the jocular test the knowledge and alertness of high Soviet bureaucrats. They invented a fanciful Academy of Plans for Transcosmic Sciences and a subsidiary Trust for the...
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