The Yes Men of Venus by Ron Goulart - Privileged we are to bring you this historic story—one which will warm the manly hearts of the legion of devoted admirers of that venerable fantasist, Arthur Wright Beemis.

My heart was heavy as I drifted over the remote reaches of the Pacific Ocean in the atomic powered Zeppelin the World League of Peaceful Governments had thoughtfully allowed me to borrow in order to show their gratitude for my having ended the 4th World War several weeks ahead of time with my lucky discovery of a powerful ray that made gun powder ineffectual. This balloon cruise, as pleasant as it was, had been planned as more than just a dedicated scientific attempt to map the migratory routes of the Arctic Curlew. It was to have been, too, my wedding journey.

As I followed, with my binoculars, the happily paired curlews flapping to warmer climes I tried to think of some reason for the unpleasant turn events had taken. When I had called for my beloved Joanna on the prior morning her father, the noted munitions tycoon, John Plunderbund Brimstone, had left, not his best wishes for a safe honeymoon but, rather, orders for myself and my Zeppelin to be thrown unceremoniously from the grounds. All my leaden heart could be sure of was that I would never again walk hand in hand with the handsomest, most athletic and yet feminine, girl in the state of New Jersey. The thought of what I was doing would have brought tears to my eyes had I not been as masculine and manly as I am. For the curlew was the one bird that my Joanna and I had always thought of as our bird.

But the rapid deflation of my Zeppelin vanquished all self pity from my mind. I was galvanized into action. Placing my binoculars back in their case, I dived without further thought from the gondola of the falling Zeppelin and into the placid waters of the Pacific Ocean.