In which the bountiful gifts of American advice columnists include a now-ubiquitious happy afterlife for pets, and John might lose a swordfight because he's too heavy for a chandelier. Certificate #29810.

In which a self-crowned prince founds his own nation on a tiny piece of concrete in the North Sea, complete with commando raids, and Ken is only in favor of 3-D awards. Certificate #6611.

In which a village pastime for Sussex dairymaids gets urbanized into an exciting neighborhood pick-up sport in American inner cities, and John wants to pick the bittle up. Certificate #13472.

In which attempts to replace petrochemical plastic with corn and sawdust face fatal challenges of scale and efficiency, and Ken has never made a Prius. Certificate #32944.

In which the influence of spinet pianos and telegraph keys produces a satisfying new device interface for the electric age, and John thinks aliens just want a cuddle. Certificate #42007.

In which the development of guardrail and concrete divider technology makes highway driving massively safer over the decades, and Ken lies under oath in a deposition. Certificate #40991.

In which twenty-four bishops refuse to open the secret prophecies that will save Britain from war and banditry, and John wants to be called "Dicebox." Certificate #49596.

In which car registration numbers become modes for personalized creative expression and eventually a multimillion-dollar commodity, and Ken does not say "auto." Certificate #37808.

In which centuries of inaccurate illustrations of our planet are abruptly upended by satellites and awestruck astronauts, and John never drew spaceships, just Japanese fighter planes. Certificate #35817.

In which budget-conscious Swedes rearrange American ideas about nutritious eating, and Ken is pretty sure M&Ms are not getting smaller. Certificate #54063.