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The Science Fiction Fan, v. 4, issue 8, whole no. 44, March 1940
Page 18
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18.............................FAN THEN, LIKE A BOLT FROM THE BLUE -- you decide to die! (How original). But not just an ordinary death--you don't relish embalming fluid in your veins. You're going to engineer a death every S-F fan will envy. You're going to die a science fiction fan's death! And like a stenographer, you start rattling off senseless things on the battered typewriter. THINGS START HAPPENING (You've run out of manuscript paper and have transferred your typewritten efforts to tissue sheets --- It's rude to call it toilet paper!) The first insane thing you do is to write two letters to every reader's column reading something like this: "Inasmuch as I am dying in the hospital of syphylis, I thought I might take advantage of the great opportunity to finally get a letter printed in your junky mag. Confidentially, it stinks! Your loving reader, Jack. J. Ackerwitz." "Mr. Ackerwitz was found dead the next morning when he failed to appear at the first call for breakfast. Fish fry tonight. Urs true, Jules Laverne." At the bottom of which, certain editors broke all editorial restrictions to insert the following note: "After sending this letter, if Mr. Ackerwitz hadn't died -- I'd of come over and killed him myself," Ye Ed. BUT THAT ISNT ALL; THE BEST IS YET TO COME! You then prepare your own Memorial Volume, containing every bit of junk you've ever had
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18.............................FAN THEN, LIKE A BOLT FROM THE BLUE -- you decide to die! (How original). But not just an ordinary death--you don't relish embalming fluid in your veins. You're going to engineer a death every S-F fan will envy. You're going to die a science fiction fan's death! And like a stenographer, you start rattling off senseless things on the battered typewriter. THINGS START HAPPENING (You've run out of manuscript paper and have transferred your typewritten efforts to tissue sheets --- It's rude to call it toilet paper!) The first insane thing you do is to write two letters to every reader's column reading something like this: "Inasmuch as I am dying in the hospital of syphylis, I thought I might take advantage of the great opportunity to finally get a letter printed in your junky mag. Confidentially, it stinks! Your loving reader, Jack. J. Ackerwitz." "Mr. Ackerwitz was found dead the next morning when he failed to appear at the first call for breakfast. Fish fry tonight. Urs true, Jules Laverne." At the bottom of which, certain editors broke all editorial restrictions to insert the following note: "After sending this letter, if Mr. Ackerwitz hadn't died -- I'd of come over and killed him myself," Ye Ed. BUT THAT ISNT ALL; THE BEST IS YET TO COME! You then prepare your own Memorial Volume, containing every bit of junk you've ever had
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