ANNOUNCER. And now Malt-O-Cod, the only malt food drink flavored with real cod-liver oil, proudly presents…

(Music: Fanfare)

ANNOUNCER. The Adventures of Sir Montague Blastoff, Interplanetary Space Dragoon!

(Music: Theme, in and under for…)

ANNOUNCER. Tonight we find Sir Montague with Colonel Wilhelmina Darling in New York of 1836, with picturesque carriages and sumptuous costumes and other things that cost a lot less on radio than in the movies.

SIR MONTAGUE. Well, Colonel, here we are—thanks to our earlier perfection of time travel—in November of 1836, just in time to prevent the election of Martin Van Buren as President of the United States and assure a Whig victory.

COL. DARLING. But I still don’t see why we had to come all this way to interfere with a minor historical figure in one of those forgotten backwater countries that used to infest the earth before the Interplanetary High Commission sorted everything out.

SIR MONTAGUE. My dear Colonel, the misery wrought by the Panic of 1837 led to untold—

SIR MONTAGUE (distant). Oh, I say! There you are!

COL. DARLING (distant). Wilhelmina! Wait for us!

COL. DARLING. Look, Monty! It’s us!

SIR MONTAGUE. I say! Is this another hiccup with the machinery?

SIR MONTAGUE (approaching). Not at all. I came looking for you, actually. Jolly good thing I found you, too.  I’ve come to tell you to turn back before it’s too late. It turns out that the consequences of a Whig victory in 1836 were nothing short of appalling.


SIR MONTAGUE. Indeed. The effect on contemporary interplanetary culture has been simply devastating.

COL. DARLING. Look at these uniforms we have to wear. Polyester velour!


SIR MONTAGUE (distant). Just a moment there!

COL. DARLING. Look! It’s us again!

SIR MONTAGUE (approaching). Good thing we caught up with the four of you! It turns out that Martin Van Buren must be stopped after all. By a series of events too complicated to explain right now, his election led to a complete collapse of the Interplanetary Union shortly after the second pair of you left.

SIR MONTAGUE. My word! That’s awkward.

SIR MONTAGUE. It certainly is. So the mission is on again, eh?

SIR MONTAGUE (distant). Not quite, I’m afraid!

COL. DARLING. It’s two more of us!

SIR MONTAGUE (approaching). After a round of jolly complicated calculations by the boffins, we’ve discovered that it was actually the election of Richard M. Johnson as vice president in 1836 that led to all the troubles down the road, so to speak.

COL. DARLING. So we have to prevent Richard M. Johnson from being elected, but not Martin Van Buren?

COL. DARLING. Yes, to prevent polyester.

COL. DARLING. No, I’m afraid the polyester will happen anyway. The boffins couldn’t calculate a way around it.

COL. DARLING. But I hate polyester! It doesn’t breathe!

COL. DARLING. Actually, a few of us have taken to wearing a cotton-polyester blend. It’s against regulations, and who knows what would happen if we were caught, but—

SIR MONTAGUE (approaching). I say, do any of you fine ladies and gentlemen know which way it is to 1841?

COL. DARLING (approaching). Monty, I think you forgot to reset the temporal coordinates.

SIR MONTAGUE. Oh, that must be it. Sorry, everyone. Obviously Colonel Darling is correct; I simply forgot to reset the dial thingy after coming here to tell you all that it was John Tyler who had to be stopped, not Richard M. Johnson.

SIR MONTAGUE. But you haven’t told us anything of the sort.

SIR MONTAGUE. Really? Well, we should be along any moment now.

SIR MONTAGUE (distant). I say, everyone, wait just a minute! It’s not Johnson or Van Buren at all! It’s Tyler!

SIR MONTAGUE. Ah, there we are now.

SIR MONTAGUE (approaching). One pair of us has got to get to March of 1841 and slip President Harrison some penicillin.

COL. DARLING. We’ll go, won’t we, Monty?

COL. DARLING. No, don’t bother. We can take care of it.

COL. DARLING. Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to put you to any trouble.

COL. DARLING. If neither of you want to do it, I’m sure we could manage.

COL. DARLING. You actually look rather fetching in polyester velour.

COL. DARLING. Do you really think so? Don’t tell anyone, but it’s a cotton-polyester blend.

(Music: Theme, in and under for…)

NARRATOR. Will Sir Montague and Colonel Darling make it to 1841 in time to stop President Harrison from kicking the bucket? Don’t miss next week’s thrilling episode: Sir Montague Blastoff and Article 2, Section 1, Clause 6 of the United States Constitution! Until then, kids, remember to whine frequently until your parents bring home the Malt-O-Cod, the only malt food drink with the rich, satisfying flavor of real cod-liver oil. For a limited time only, you’ll find a little packet with more Malt-O-Cod in it inside each specially marked package of Malt-O-Cod. So remember that name, kids: Malt-O-Cod, the malt food drink that’s brain food.

(Music: In full, then out.)


  1. I will bloody well comment! So there! The most sinister explanation is always the most accurate.

  2. Captain DaFt says:

    So, since polyester exists, and President Harrison died, I take it he was morbidly allergic to penicillin?

    If they’d just left him alone, he would probably have recovered, and we’d have our robot maids and flying cars by now.

    Remember kids, time travel never works out!

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