What is going on here? Tender devotion between a little girl and a sack of deadly radioactive powder? HOW DOES ONE BEGIN TO TELL THE TALE OF A LOVE WITH A HALF-LIFE AS OLD AS TIME?
Well. As many things do, this story begins with a visit from one of Little Dot's many uncles and/or aunts.

Uncle Sowerdo grew up in a time when it was accepted practice to distribute fissionable materials to relatives. "Happy birthday Gramps!" they'd yell. "Here's some radium! Don't eat it all at once, y'hear?"

Mr. Polka's promotion is front page news here in Bonnie Dell - OR IS IT?

That little sack of radioactive dust loves you too, Dot. It loves you so much that it's sending out little rays of love that are gettin' it on with your cell structure, and soon that love will present itself to you in new and wonderful ways. And afterwards they will bury you in a lead-lined coffin somewhere in a government approved facility.

A daring daylight payroll robbery executed by bandits in Mr. Polka masks? I don't know about you, but I am sick and tired of comic books acting as how-to guides for crime! Remember that Mr. Polka-masked crime wave? All caused by this comic book.

I will say that the boss has a point here. Also if where I worked got robbed by a bunch of guys who looked like me, I'd feel sick too.

Suddenly the keen detective brain of Mr. Polka realizes that being an assistant treasurer is incredibly boring and any newspaper feature about him would likely be part of some sort of Mr. Polka-masked criminal conspiracy.

BONNIE DELL POLICE DEPARTMENT - Our motto: "We'll drive around a while and look for the bad guys."

And so the Mr. Polka Mask Crime Wave is solved by Little Dot and her bag of uranium dust. "Don't thank me," says Dot, "thank Hans Geiger, inventer of the Geiger Counter and a founding member of Nazi Germany's Uranium Club!"
"Also, why is my hair falling out?"