In the late sixties the A-bomb was old news. The H-bomb was a thing. In the age of thermonuclear devices, leave it to Steve and Paul to develop a thermonatural device, the B bomb.
The device was crude, but effective, and I was certainly vulnerable.
I was already terrified of the more creepy crawly aspects of nature. The swing-set by the A-frame playhouse in the deep back yard had been turned into a nightmare-inducing hellscape by the presence of velvet ants, which I learned at the time also bore the name Cow Killers for the wallop of the female’s sting. That did it for me … the deep backyard was now off-limits. Indeed I learned recently that these ants are not really ants at all, but some sort of wingless cicada-killer wasp, a fact that does nothing to reassure me retroactively.