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Fantasticonglomeration, issue 1, March 1944
Page 8
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[Illustrated Ad, nude wearing winged strappy heels, seated on what looks like a giant business card} E.E. Horton Esperantist, VOM Bx 6475 Met Stn -Los Angeles [Box ad] Forrest J. Acketman Scientifictionist 2361/2 N New Hamp Hollywood "But two hours or so, Excellency." "Very well, let us commence..." Dr. Karlton's mind returned to the present as his gaze settled once more on the still form before him. He got up, stubbled his cigaret in a nearby tray, and prodded the forehead of the patient with his finger. The bone was solid once more. He gazed down at the apparently dead man, and a peculiat gleam came into his eyes. He then walked of to a small table and picked up an already loaded hypodermic which he had placed there in case of an emergency, before starting the operation. Returning to the still form of the man, he deftly thrust the needle into an arm, and forced the plunger home. Removing the glittering needle from the white arm of the man, he took his wrist between thumb and finger and concenrtated his attention to the beat of the pulse. Giving another satisfied grunt, he lowered the arm and returned the hypodermic to the small table, lit another cigaret, and returned to the prostrate man. He smoked leisurely for some moments until he observed a slight movement on the table. The peculiar glint returned to the scientist's eyes as the other slowly opened his eyes for a moment, and then relapsed into a semi-coma. Dr Karlston again felt the man's wrist, and gave a satisfied grin. He sat down to await the results, inhaling the fumes of his cigaret and exhaling slowly. There was no sound in the laboratory. With a full return to consciousness, the dictator spoke, "Well, when do I see my face--is the operation a success?" "I have given you a face to match your soul." -- "That is indeed good," said the dictator. -- "I have also re-arranged the shape of certain bones in your shoulders." The little dictator sat up and looked at one of his shoulders, and he was surprised to find it so near to his face. "What is this--what have you done? he asked as he clambered to the floor excitedly. He then caught sight of himself in the full length mirror. He found himself stripped to the waist. The upper portion of his body was hideaously twisted, while his face was but a satanic caricature of any human visage. A living personnification of Quasimado, the hunchback of Nôtre Dame! The sientist spat: "In you, mothers will see the twisted limbs of innocent children you blew to Hell--you are now a living monument of the sorrows you brought on this world. See yourself for the first time--Look! Hate yourself for what you really are!"
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[Illustrated Ad, nude wearing winged strappy heels, seated on what looks like a giant business card} E.E. Horton Esperantist, VOM Bx 6475 Met Stn -Los Angeles [Box ad] Forrest J. Acketman Scientifictionist 2361/2 N New Hamp Hollywood "But two hours or so, Excellency." "Very well, let us commence..." Dr. Karlton's mind returned to the present as his gaze settled once more on the still form before him. He got up, stubbled his cigaret in a nearby tray, and prodded the forehead of the patient with his finger. The bone was solid once more. He gazed down at the apparently dead man, and a peculiat gleam came into his eyes. He then walked of to a small table and picked up an already loaded hypodermic which he had placed there in case of an emergency, before starting the operation. Returning to the still form of the man, he deftly thrust the needle into an arm, and forced the plunger home. Removing the glittering needle from the white arm of the man, he took his wrist between thumb and finger and concenrtated his attention to the beat of the pulse. Giving another satisfied grunt, he lowered the arm and returned the hypodermic to the small table, lit another cigaret, and returned to the prostrate man. He smoked leisurely for some moments until he observed a slight movement on the table. The peculiar glint returned to the scientist's eyes as the other slowly opened his eyes for a moment, and then relapsed into a semi-coma. Dr Karlston again felt the man's wrist, and gave a satisfied grin. He sat down to await the results, inhaling the fumes of his cigaret and exhaling slowly. There was no sound in the laboratory. With a full return to consciousness, the dictator spoke, "Well, when do I see my face--is the operation a success?" "I have given you a face to match your soul." -- "That is indeed good," said the dictator. -- "I have also re-arranged the shape of certain bones in your shoulders." The little dictator sat up and looked at one of his shoulders, and he was surprised to find it so near to his face. "What is this--what have you done? he asked as he clambered to the floor excitedly. He then caught sight of himself in the full length mirror. He found himself stripped to the waist. The upper portion of his body was hideaously twisted, while his face was but a satanic caricature of any human visage. A living personnification of Quasimado, the hunchback of Nôtre Dame! The sientist spat: "In you, mothers will see the twisted limbs of innocent children you blew to Hell--you are now a living monument of the sorrows you brought on this world. See yourself for the first time--Look! Hate yourself for what you really are!"
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