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the Schwartz apartment darkened for a moment, as the riot scenes faded, and then the face of the announcer appeared, like the sun coming from behind a cloud. "And now, friends," he said, "I have a special message from the makers of anti-gerasone, a message for all you folks over one hundred and fifty. Are you hampered socially by wrinkles, by stiffness of joints and discoloration or loss of hair, all because these things came upon you before anti-gerasone was developed? Well, if you are, you need no longer suffer, need no longer feel different and out of things.

"After years of research, medical science has now developed super-anti-gerosone! In weeks, yes weeks, you can look, feel, and act as young as your great-great-grandchildren! Wouldn’t you pay $5,000 to be indistinguishable from everybody else? Well, you don’t have to. Safe, tested super-anti-gerasone costs you only dollars a day. The average cost of regaining all the sparkle and attractiveness of youth is less than fifty dollars.

"Write now for your free trial carton. Just put your name and address on a dollar postcard, and mail it to ’Super,’ Box 500,000, Schenectady, N.Y. Have you got that? I’ll repeat it. ’Super.’ Box..." Underlining the announcer’s words was the scratching of Gramps’ fountain-pen, the one Willy had given him the night before. He had come in a few minutes previous from the Idle Hour Tavern, which commanded a view of Building 257 across the square of asphalt known as the Alden Village Green. He had called a cleaning woman to come straighten the place up, and had hired the best lawyer in town to get his descendants a conviction. Gramps had then moved the daybed before the television screen so that he could watch from a reclining position. It was something he’d dreamed of doing for years.

"Schen-ec-ta-dy," mouthed Gramps: "Got it." His face had changed remarkably. His facial muscles seemed to have relaxed, revealing kindness and equanimity under what had been taut, bad-tempered lines. It was almost as though his trial package of Super-anti-gerasone had already arrived. When something amused him on television, he smiled easily, rather than barely managing to lengthen the thin line of his mouth a millimeter. Life was good. He could hardly wait to see what was going to happen next.

(1953)

DELL BOOKS BY KURT VONNEGUT

Bluebeard

Breakfast of Champions

Cat’s Cradle

Deadeye Dick

Galapagos

God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater

Jailbird

Mother Night

Palm Sunday

Player Piano

The Sirens of Titan

Slapstick

Slaughterhouse-Five

Wampeters, Foma & Granfalloons

Welcome to the Monkey House

A DELTA BOOK

Published by

Dell Publishing

a division of

Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc.

1540 Broadway

New York, New York 10036

Acknowledgment is made to the following magazines and publishers in whose pages these stories first appeared:

The Atlantic Monthly: "Der Arme Dolmetscher" (originally published under the title "Das Ganz Arm Dolmetscher").

Collier’s Magazine: "The Foster Portfolio," "All the King’s Horses," "Tom Edison’s Shaggy Dog," "More Stately Mansions," "Report on the Barnhouse Effect," "Epicac," and "The Euphio Question."

Cosmopolitan: "Next Door," "The Manned Missiles," and "Adam."

Esquire: "Deer in the Works."

Fantasy and Science Fiction Magazine: "Harrison Bergeron."

Galaxy Publishing Corporation: "Unready to Wear’’ and "Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow" (originally published under the title "The Big Trip Up Yonder"). Ladies’ Home Journal: "Long Walk to Forever," "D.P.," and "Go Back to Your Precious Wife and Son."

The New York Times: "New Dictionary" (originally published under the title "The Random House Dictionary").

Playboy: "Welcome to the Monkey House."

Saturday Evening Post: "Who Am I This Time?," "Miss Temptation," "The Lie," and "The Kid Nobody Could Handle."

Venture: "Where I Live" (originally published under the title "So You’ve Never Been to Barnstable").

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.