DIY History | Transcribe | Hevelin Fanzines | Funtasy, v. 1, issue 1, Spring 1939

Transcribe
Translate

Funtasy, v. 1, issue 1, Spring 1939

Page 9

FUNTASY                                       Page 9

   To the finder of this message (it said), give this communication to the editor of WONDER STORIES. He is to blame to a great extent, for all mytroubles. Here is how it all happened......... "I was in the Three Hundred and Ninety-Seventh National Bank at 3 A.M. lighting the fuse to the charge I had just placed in the vault door, simply minding my own business, when a sweet odor came to my nostrils and something was clapped to my face. It was chloroform!

   I came to myself in a laboratory. The mad scientist in charge of the joint noticed me and at once addressed an assistant. "Take him up there. You know where," he said significantly. I saw the assistant shudder and a look of horror come over his face. Reluctantly he came over and seized me (I was still groggy and weak), and marched me out of the room. As we ascended a flight of stairs, he wrishpered encouragingly, "Don't let this ordeal get you. He's trying to injure your mind leaving it tortured and weak forever. When the mental damage is done he turns his victims loose to affect sane people by their ravings."

   He shoved me into a room and locked the door upon me. I looked around for torture instruments and saw an old file of WONDER STORIES upon a long shelf. Having nothing to do, I read some of them. Then, too late, I realized! Already that insidious menace was creeping into my very brain. Plucking fingers tore at my intelligence and it gave way. Helpless now in the influence of those stories, I read more and more of them. I raved, I frother at the mouth and begged for new copies. I had become one of those pitiful SFN. fans. 

   One day the professor came in and saw the title on a story I was writing; "The Master of the Doom of the Menace of the Horror Plague of the Curse of the Scourge of the Conqueror of the Gree-Purple Peril of the Onslaught of the Malignant Invasion of the World-Wrecking Death".

   "Aha!", he exclaimed, "great! It is the last stages of scientifictionitis, trying to write stories himself!"

   At once I was carted out of the room and placedin a cone-shaped contrivance. The door was sealed upon me. A terrific roar, unendurable pressure and unconsiousness followed. I awoke to find myself on Mars.

   I stepped from the ship only to be surrounded by insect-men who firmly led me to a tiny room. So--they would throw me into a dungeon! I laughed, for I had read hundreds of stories about escapes from Mars, Ceres, Phobus, fires, and debts, and my experience as a safe-cracker stood me in good stead. Noticing some nitroglycerine in a cup on the table, I went to work. After getting everything all set to blow, I first exhausted every possibility of escape beforetrying this last resort. No windows; walls four feet thick; no trapdoors in either ceiling or floor; no secret panels; no machine by which to rotate myself into the fourth dimension, or fifth or

Saving...

FUNTASY Page 9 To the finder of this message (it said), give this communication to the editor of WONDER STORIES. He is to blame to a great extent, for all mytroubles. Here is how it all happened......... "I was in the Three Hundred and Ninety-Seventh National Bank at 3 A.M. lighting the fuse to the charge I had just placed in the vault door, simply minding my own business, when a sweet odor came to my nostrils and something was clapped to my face. It was chloroform! I came to myself in a laboratory. The mad scientist in charge of the joint noticed me and at once addressed an assistant. "Take him up there. You know where," he said significantly. I saw the assistant shudder and a look of horror come over his face. Reluctantly he came over and seized me (I was still groggy and weak), and marched me out of the room. As we ascended a flight of stairs, he wrishpered encouragingly, "Don't let this ordeal get you. He's trying to injure your mind leaving it tortured and weak forever. When the mental damage is done he turns his victims loose to affect sane people by their ravings." He shoved me into a room and locked the door upon me. I looked around for torture instruments and saw an old file of WONDER STORIES upon a long shelf. Having nothing to do, I read some of them. Then, too late, I realized! Already that insidious menace was creeping into my very brain. Plucking fingers tore at my intelligence and it gave way. Helpless now in the influence of those stories, I read more and more of them. I raved, I frother at the mouth and begged for new copies. I had become one of those pitiful SFN. fans. One day the professor came in and saw the title on a story I was writing; "The Master of the Doom of the Menace of the Horror Plague of the Curse of the Scourge of the Conqueror of the Gree-Purple Peril of the Onslaught of the Malignant Invasion of the World-Wrecking Death". "Aha!", he exclaimed, "great! It is the last stages of scientifictionitis, trying to write stories himself!" At once I was carted out of the room and placedin a cone-shaped contrivance. The door was sealed upon me. A terrific roar, unendurable pressure and unconsiousness followed. I awoke to find myself on Mars. I stepped from the ship only to be surrounded by insect-men who firmly led me to a tiny room. So--they would throw me into a dungeon! I laughed, for I had read hundreds of stories about escapes from Mars, Ceres, Phobus, fires, and debts, and my experience as a safe-cracker stood me in good stead. Noticing some nitroglycerine in a cup on the table, I went to work. After getting everything all set to blow, I first exhausted every possibility of escape beforetrying this last resort. No windows; walls four feet thick; no trapdoors in either ceiling or floor; no secret panels; no machine by which to rotate myself into the fourth dimension, or fifth or