In a desperate attempt to stem the rising tide of preschool nicotine addiction, the hand-wringers at HarperCollins publishers have sent Mr. Clement Hurd's cigarette to join all the dead Soviet cosmonauts down the memory hole.
Having shown their willingness to engage in a little historical revisionism to keep the kiddies from trading in Marlboro Miles for Spongebob Squarepants gear, one wonders why they stopped halfway? Most four-year-olds these days have mad 1337 Photoshop skillz that would leave the geezers at HarperCollins in the dust and can therefore tell that there was supposed to be something held in Hurd's paw, so why leave the obvious empty hand dangling in space, sans cigarette? Why not fill the now-extraneous mitt with something of social value with which to teach the kiddies, like a card with the D.A.R.E. "fink on your parents" hotline number, or a condom, or something else the socially-conscious want to make sure the PlaySkool crowd has committed to memory?
Hat tip to Les Jones.