William Johnston - Max Smart Loses Control

“Run, Max!” Hymie commanded.

Max, his slipper still ringing, followed Hymie toward the doorway through which they had just entered. They dashed into the corridor.

“Wait!” Max called.

Hymie halted. “What is it?”

“Do you have a piece of chalk?”

Hymie handed him a fragment of white chalk.

Quickly, Max printed ‘Out of Order’ over the first nozzle. Then he and Hymie ducked under it and raced on along the corridor. A moment later, the guards poured through the doorway. Spotting the sign Max had printed above the nozzle, they elected not to duck. A trapdoor opened beneath them, and a number of them plummeted through the opening.

By then, Max and Hymie had reached the second nozzle. Max chalked ‘Out of Order’ over it. Then he and Hymie ducked down, then ran on. The remaining guards, still giving chase, saw the sign, and chose not to duck. They were burned to a crisp.

“I don’t understand,” Hymie said. “How could they be stupid enough to believe that second sign.”

“Because they’ve been brainwashed by their bedside computers,” Max explained. “They’d believe anything. That shows what will happen to the whole civilized world, Hymie, if we don’t stop Means and Ways.”

“We can’t go back now-not without weapons,” Hymie said.

“Well. . tomorrow is another day,” Max said.

R-i-i-i-n-n-g, Max’s slipper persisted.

“Max. . maybe you better answer your shoe.”

“Oh. . yes. I was-”

At that moment, there was a shot. A bullet zinged past Max’s head. Max and Hymie turned and saw that Ways and Means had appeared from the laboratory. They had guns. And, since they had not been brainwashed, it was unlikely that they would fall victim to their own traps.

“Run!” Hymie commanded.

Max raced after him. Gunfire followed them. Bullets hit the walls all around. They ducked under the mind-destroying laser, then dashed through the doorway and into the pool. A few moments later, they bobbed to the surface, swam to the edge of the pool, pulled themselves out, ran to the bunkhouse, jumped into bed, and covered up their heads.

Max’s house slipper was still ringing.

From his own room, Hymie called out, “Max! Answer it!”

“It’s too dark in here. I can’t find it!”

“Push the covers back!”

“Oh.”

Max sat up on the edge of his bed and removed his house slipper.

Max: Yes?

Unfamiliar Male Voice: Mr. Maxwell Smart?

Max (looking at his watch): Do you happen to know what time it is? It’s two o’clock in the morning!

UMV: I have seven after.

Max: I guess I’m a little slow. I’ve been swimming, and my watch isn’t waterproof. Who is this, anyway?

UMV: Mr. Smart, I represent the Wide Awake Telephone Answering Service-WATAS, for short. WATAS would like to represent you, Mr. Smart.

Max: You mean you’d like to be my telephone answering service?

Operator: You catch on quick, Maxie. What’ve you been doing, taking lessons?

Max: Operator, why did you let this screwball call me at this time of morning? You know this is a private line.

Operator: Maxie, you need a telephone answering service. This man is trying to do you a favor. You listen to him. All right, Harold, get in there and sell!

Max: Harold?

Harold: I’m her brother-in-law.

Max: Oh. Well, that explains a lot. It doesn’t excuse it, however. Couldn’t you have called me during regular business hours? It’s two o’clock in the morning!

Operator: I have twelve after.

Max: I guess my watch has stopped.

Harold: I called you at this hour, Mr. Smart-

Operator: Call him ‘Maxie,’ Harold. He’s nobody.

Harold: I called you at this hour, Maxie-boy, for a special reason. This is the best way to show you how valuable our service can be to you. You don’t like being called at two-seven in the morning, do you?

Max: No. But-

Harold: If you subscribed to our answering service, you wouldn’t get calls at two-seven in the morning. We’d take the calls.

Max: But nobody ever calls me at two-seven in the morning-except you.

Harold: I’m finally getting through to you. That’s the point: Take our service, and we promise to stop calling you at two-seven in the morning. Or, if we do call you at two-seven, we’ll take the call ourselves, so you won’t be bothered. Either way, how can you lose?

Max: I’ll think about it. Frankly, there’s something about it that doesn’t sound quite right to me.

Harold (to Operator): I thought you told me he was dumb.

Operator: Give it time. After he thinks it over, he’ll subscribe. He’s so dumb, it even takes him time to do something stupid.

Harold: I’ll call you again tomorrow morning at two-seven, Maxie-boy.

Max: It won’t do you any good. I won’t answer. You’ll only get my answering service.

Max put his house slipper back on, then got back under the covers. But a moment later, the slipper rang again.

Max: Yes-who is it?

Harold: This is your answering service, Maxie-boy. You’ve got a call from some whacko who calls himself a chief. Do you want to take it?

Max: At two o’clock in the morning?

Chief: Max! This is me, Max-the Chief. And it isn’t two o’clock in the morning-it’s two twenty-one. And, besides, what does that have to do with it? You’re on duty twenty-four hours a day, Max. When I call, I want you to be there! Is that clear?

Harold: Shall I put him on, Maxie-boo?

Max: Yes, I’ll accept that call, Harold.

Harold: I’ll connect you, sir. You may speak to Mr. Smart, now.

Operator: Harold. . you’re crowding in on my territory. This is a private line. I handle all the calls on this circuit. This is a Control line, you know. Control is a secret government organization. For all we know, you might be a KAOS spy. I’ll tell you the truth, Harold, I warned my sister not to marry you. ‘A KAOS spy, if I ever saw one,’ I said to her. What’s this thing about telephones you’ve got? Can’t you get an honest job? It looks very suspicious-a grown man playing with telephones. It’s probably not play to you, I’ll bet. You’ve probably got the whole world bugged. Not that I mind. But you know what it’ll do to Mother when she finds out. Her daughter married to a bugger! She’ll start having her fainting fits again. Harold! Please! Give it up! Go straight! For Mother’s sake!

Harold: Maxie-boo, I can’t be your answering service anymore. I’m going out of business.

Max: I’m very glad to hear that, Harold. I’m sure Mother will be pleased, too.

Harold: Who cares about her? I’m doing it for the profit I’ll make on declaring bankruptcy.

Operator: Don’t forget my cut! It was my idea!

Chief: Operator. . Harold. . please. . would you get off the line? Max. . are you still there?

Max: Am I still where, Chief?

Harold: He’s sure dumb, all right. It’s a pity to lose a customer like that. I could overcharge him and he’d never know it.

Operator: Maybe you’d like to reconsider, Harold. Whatever you decide, Mother will be pleased. She looks on you like her own son.

Harold: I thought your mother had only girls.

Operator: That’s what I mean.

Max: Operator, I don’t think I under-

Chief: Max! Forget it! I want to talk to you. Why do you think I called you at two twenty-two in the morning? I couldn’t sleep. I’m worried about this case. What progress have you made?