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Funtasy, v. 1, issue 1, Spring 1939
Page 12
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FUNTASY Page 12 Carelessly, I tossed away the remains of my tropical repast. After a brief inspection of the behemoth, during which I pulled a number of levers and stuff on the mighty switchboard to warm up the various tubes and coils, I went to see if all was well with my precious bundle of literature. But woe! The lowly banana once more worked its dastardly spell! I felt myself skid; then hurtle with increasing speed straight into the mouth of the ether-vibrating cone! I plunged through the opening!!! -Bite the Third- Scintallating lights flashed in myriad colors as I groped blindly for my baggage. A sharp stock followed by almost immediate cold; then a majestic sense of floating in nothingness. I passed out at that point. (Lucky thing, too. I hadn't any adjectives left.) Slowly I awoke, conscious of being stared at by a group of singular looking men and boys, not unlike myself in appearance, but wearing clothers of unconceivably brilliant hues. I staggered to my feet and gazed out over a vast audience gathered in a hall that out-Schachnered any auditorium ever conceived by him. It seemed to stretch endlessly in all directions, and over all hung a deathly and awe-inspiring silence. I started to utter my salutations to one of the obvious dignitaries on the rotunds, but before I could make a sound, a pugnacious-pussed gentleman suddenly broke the silence with a terrible yell, "Look out, everybody! He may be a pro!" "Yeah! He may be a pro!" screamed a number of the assembled multitude, a few of whom has risen to their feet and glowered angrily in my direction. I could see I was in a bad fix. "No,no, I'm not," I hissed, "I'm a fan." It came to my tongue as naturally as that. At that the uproar ceased, being replaced by low murmurings of "ohs" and "ahs". "A fan? Do you mean that your'e a science-fiction fan?", one of the group on the stage asked me, a little awed. "I'll tell the world I am!" And to back up my bold statement, I reached into my bundle that had luckily followed me to this strange place, and withdrew from its depths a handful of fan mags. "I'm going to teach you guys all about science-fiction!" I announced! Good night! Talk about your funny mon! That innocently-spoken line brought down the house! Every blessed person there had burst into the most hilarious laughter imaginable! One of the stage dignitarians, a little more plump than the others, screached with joy until tears began to roll down his rosy face and best buttons began to rain a tattoo on the footlights. But at length the laughing subsided, giving way to curiosity on the part of the crowd. The fat fellow addressed me. "Hhhaa-rrup. Ah, what did you say you ewre, my good man?" "Why, I just said I was a sfn. fan and that I was going to let you in on it. But what was so darned funny in that?" A few more began to snicker, but were promptly silenced by a frown from my quizzer, who again spoke to me, this time in a tone one might use when tell- (Cont. on Page 16)
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FUNTASY Page 12 Carelessly, I tossed away the remains of my tropical repast. After a brief inspection of the behemoth, during which I pulled a number of levers and stuff on the mighty switchboard to warm up the various tubes and coils, I went to see if all was well with my precious bundle of literature. But woe! The lowly banana once more worked its dastardly spell! I felt myself skid; then hurtle with increasing speed straight into the mouth of the ether-vibrating cone! I plunged through the opening!!! -Bite the Third- Scintallating lights flashed in myriad colors as I groped blindly for my baggage. A sharp stock followed by almost immediate cold; then a majestic sense of floating in nothingness. I passed out at that point. (Lucky thing, too. I hadn't any adjectives left.) Slowly I awoke, conscious of being stared at by a group of singular looking men and boys, not unlike myself in appearance, but wearing clothers of unconceivably brilliant hues. I staggered to my feet and gazed out over a vast audience gathered in a hall that out-Schachnered any auditorium ever conceived by him. It seemed to stretch endlessly in all directions, and over all hung a deathly and awe-inspiring silence. I started to utter my salutations to one of the obvious dignitaries on the rotunds, but before I could make a sound, a pugnacious-pussed gentleman suddenly broke the silence with a terrible yell, "Look out, everybody! He may be a pro!" "Yeah! He may be a pro!" screamed a number of the assembled multitude, a few of whom has risen to their feet and glowered angrily in my direction. I could see I was in a bad fix. "No,no, I'm not," I hissed, "I'm a fan." It came to my tongue as naturally as that. At that the uproar ceased, being replaced by low murmurings of "ohs" and "ahs". "A fan? Do you mean that your'e a science-fiction fan?", one of the group on the stage asked me, a little awed. "I'll tell the world I am!" And to back up my bold statement, I reached into my bundle that had luckily followed me to this strange place, and withdrew from its depths a handful of fan mags. "I'm going to teach you guys all about science-fiction!" I announced! Good night! Talk about your funny mon! That innocently-spoken line brought down the house! Every blessed person there had burst into the most hilarious laughter imaginable! One of the stage dignitarians, a little more plump than the others, screached with joy until tears began to roll down his rosy face and best buttons began to rain a tattoo on the footlights. But at length the laughing subsided, giving way to curiosity on the part of the crowd. The fat fellow addressed me. "Hhhaa-rrup. Ah, what did you say you ewre, my good man?" "Why, I just said I was a sfn. fan and that I was going to let you in on it. But what was so darned funny in that?" A few more began to snicker, but were promptly silenced by a frown from my quizzer, who again spoke to me, this time in a tone one might use when tell- (Cont. on Page 16)
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