When Olof Palmer looked at the day's TV program he didn't laugh. During the whole evening and night one channel had arranged to transmit a vigil which in bad taste was entitled: "This evening, Olof Palmer, you are going to die!" and a number of well-known Swedes would take part.

"What the hell!" Exclaimed the Prime Minister.

"Is this a joke? I must talk to my lawyer. There must be laws, which protect private individuals against this kind of treatment."

No sooner had he said this than his young son came rushing in firing a toy pistol.

"Bang! Bang! Dad, you are dead!"


The noise caused a score of policemen to rush into the villa and those who came to the Prime Minister first got a shock.

"No! No! We are too late."

"Damn it what a lot of bosh," hissed Olof Palmer.

"I am alive. I am not a bit dead!"

"Oh hell! Oh no! That this should happen, exactly fifty years after the murder of Olof Palme and we could not stop it," moaned one of the policemen.

Olof Palmer took a hard grip on the policeman's collar and shook him violently.

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