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             ONE MILLION FOUR HUNDRED NINETY TWO THOUSAND
                SIX HUNDRED THIRTY THREE MARLON BRANDOS

                           BY VANCE AANDAHL

                    She liked the Brando type. The
                   more there was of it, the better!

           [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
             Worlds of If Science Fiction, September 1962.
         Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
         the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]


Chester McRae. Good old Chet, best man in Accounting. Six feet tall,
brown hair, brown eyes. Full of vim and vigor, that was good old Chet.

"God!" he screamed. "They're strangling me, the skunks!" He rose from
bed, his face dripping with sweat and his hands trembling like a
frightened child's. "They're killing me!" He ran to the bathroom and
vomited. His wife was stand