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Snide, issue 1, May 1940
Page 4
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stuck. There was an awful odor in the ship until he thoroughly rotted away. But Englebert was a studious chap.... He had wanted to bring along books. Detective books. He was learning to be a mail-order slue-foot. But we pointed out that we had no room for extra baggage such as books. So he scribbled his lessons on the walls. Once, where a bullet shot rang out in one lesson, the puncture went clear through the hull. The hole let some space in. We had no room for vacuum in the ship, and were forced to pump it out again. After that someone always censored Englebert's lessons so no more bullet shots would puncture our walls. Anthony was Captain, only you wouldn't know it. He had no room on his sleeves for stripes or stars. He was forced to strut about in his undershirt like the rest of us. Our undershirts were new and neatly clean. We had no room on them for holes or dirt. I should like to put another shoelace in my left shoe, but fear I cannot spare the room. Perhaps if I threw the shoe out the porthole, I would have a trifle more room. Where is the porthole? There is no porthole. No room for one, I suppose. Well, might as well leave the shoe on. Couldn't bend down to reach it anyway. Kinda crowded in here. I am forced to sleep between the two rocket tubes. When they are firing it is slightly uncomfortable. They are so close together I lay on one and the other scrapes my chest. I might as well admit I am not on the ship any longer. There was no room for me and they stuffed me out a tube long ago! I find space a trifle crowded. # 4
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stuck. There was an awful odor in the ship until he thoroughly rotted away. But Englebert was a studious chap.... He had wanted to bring along books. Detective books. He was learning to be a mail-order slue-foot. But we pointed out that we had no room for extra baggage such as books. So he scribbled his lessons on the walls. Once, where a bullet shot rang out in one lesson, the puncture went clear through the hull. The hole let some space in. We had no room for vacuum in the ship, and were forced to pump it out again. After that someone always censored Englebert's lessons so no more bullet shots would puncture our walls. Anthony was Captain, only you wouldn't know it. He had no room on his sleeves for stripes or stars. He was forced to strut about in his undershirt like the rest of us. Our undershirts were new and neatly clean. We had no room on them for holes or dirt. I should like to put another shoelace in my left shoe, but fear I cannot spare the room. Perhaps if I threw the shoe out the porthole, I would have a trifle more room. Where is the porthole? There is no porthole. No room for one, I suppose. Well, might as well leave the shoe on. Couldn't bend down to reach it anyway. Kinda crowded in here. I am forced to sleep between the two rocket tubes. When they are firing it is slightly uncomfortable. They are so close together I lay on one and the other scrapes my chest. I might as well admit I am not on the ship any longer. There was no room for me and they stuffed me out a tube long ago! I find space a trifle crowded. # 4
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