Jefferson flexed his right hand. It was a masterpiece of bio-chemical engineering. The line where it joined his arm was almost imperceptible.
 
"In time that scar will disappear," said his old school friend, Warren Peterson, a professor at the ripe young age of 33.
 
"It's a miracle," whispered Jefferson. "It has more power and it's faster than my old hand. I'm gonna be the star at the Super Bowl tonight. Warren, you've saved my career."
 
Jefferson was star thrower for the big, bad Raiders. Tonight was not only the climax of his career, he stood to win several million dollars in side bets on his freakish skill to place the spinning ball infallibly in the palm of his waiting teammate's hand.
 
But three days ago an accident with a chain saw severed his right hand above his wrist. Financial ruin and life as a cripple stared him in the face . . . until he remembered his old school friend's skill with manipulative body engineering.
 
The game went like a dream. Jefferson made throw after throw with unerring accuracy. He was undoubtedly the key factor in the Raiders' 23 to 17 success.
 
Afterwards the portly cigar-smoking manager Joe Numskull came waddling out to congratulate him.
 
That's when Jefferson made the error that lost him his job, all public sympathy, and got him banned from the game for life.
 
Jefferson forgot the awesome power of his new hand. He enthusiastically grabbed the outstretched hand of the manager . . . and crushed it to a pulp.
 
1982

 

 
Soft cover, 4 stories, 28 pages, 8¼" x 5½".