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Southern Star, v. 1, issue 3, August 1941
Page 8
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Conversation On Mt. Everest SOUTHERN STAR Page 8 of that awful place. Then faintly to my straining ears came a hint of that blasphemous melody, "I'm Nobody's Baby!" Heaven help Gonipuss, if he heard that seductive tune. Clutching my Buck Rogers' Chief Explorer Pin in my left hand, shoving open the rotting wooden door with my right hand, I let blaze with the heat gun in my other hand! The heat thus loosed was frightful indeed, and it swept everything before it in a blaze of glory. At last the den stood revealed to my eyes! But you can't surprise a NESNES girl. Seeing the havoc my heat ray had caused, she stretched out a well-tanned arm and softly chanted, "Only Mad Dogs and Englishmen Go Out in the Midday Sun." Not to be outdone, for it would be unseemly to have a servant of the law seen in an embarressing position, I calmly picked her up in my free arm and took her along. A person never knows when a hostage will come in handy. Volumes I could write on the horrors I encountered and vanquished before I found Prof. Gonipuss in the third room to the right. And well it was that I arrived when I did. Again my heat gun blazed out and again the day was saved, for the terrific heat instantaneously changed the vile drug in Gonipuss's hand into harmless glowing embers! Gonipuss dropped the red-hot embers and extended a warm hand in welcome. "Son," he said, "you arrived in the nick of time. I was just about to . . ." "I know," I replied. "And I am thankful you have been spared, for in all the universe there is no more dreadful, habit-forming drug than SEN SEN! THE END Mumblings, Continued from page 6 the great mass of readers and their degree of fever from reading tripe now being dished out by the majority. One of the pleasures of reading a good book is the fact you probably had to wade thru two or three rotten ones to find it. A few weeks ago we picked up at a sale for the amazing sum of one dime, a small volume entitled, "Lady Into Fox", and also carrying another story, "Man in the Zoo". Well, well, we chirped, what a bargain! Only a dime! We wish to hell we had the dime back! It would have purchased a big glass of beer, a Buck Rogers rocket pistol, or ten licorice sticks, any of which would have afforded us more enjoyment. "Lady Into Fox" is a dry rambling stinker, concerning the trials and tribulations of an honest English gentleman who unknowingly married a were-fox, we suppose the critter could be called. Presto-chango, one night his wife develops into a fox and trots away, much to his annoyance and agitation. Presently she presents him with a litter of little were-foxes, we presume, and conveniently gets herself bumped off by some of the boys riding to the hounds. We were never so glad to see a femme done away. And then with a calculating eye we approached "Man in the Zoo", by the same author unfortunately. It was slightly better, just slightly. Some poor boob is jilted by his femme friend (in London); and as revenge concocts the idea of living in the zoo with the animals until such time as she repents. He persuades the zoo authorities they need a speciman of genus homo, and they clap him between a couple apes. By and by the girl gives in, but don't let that bother you. The book has neat (Continued on page 14)
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Conversation On Mt. Everest SOUTHERN STAR Page 8 of that awful place. Then faintly to my straining ears came a hint of that blasphemous melody, "I'm Nobody's Baby!" Heaven help Gonipuss, if he heard that seductive tune. Clutching my Buck Rogers' Chief Explorer Pin in my left hand, shoving open the rotting wooden door with my right hand, I let blaze with the heat gun in my other hand! The heat thus loosed was frightful indeed, and it swept everything before it in a blaze of glory. At last the den stood revealed to my eyes! But you can't surprise a NESNES girl. Seeing the havoc my heat ray had caused, she stretched out a well-tanned arm and softly chanted, "Only Mad Dogs and Englishmen Go Out in the Midday Sun." Not to be outdone, for it would be unseemly to have a servant of the law seen in an embarressing position, I calmly picked her up in my free arm and took her along. A person never knows when a hostage will come in handy. Volumes I could write on the horrors I encountered and vanquished before I found Prof. Gonipuss in the third room to the right. And well it was that I arrived when I did. Again my heat gun blazed out and again the day was saved, for the terrific heat instantaneously changed the vile drug in Gonipuss's hand into harmless glowing embers! Gonipuss dropped the red-hot embers and extended a warm hand in welcome. "Son," he said, "you arrived in the nick of time. I was just about to . . ." "I know," I replied. "And I am thankful you have been spared, for in all the universe there is no more dreadful, habit-forming drug than SEN SEN! THE END Mumblings, Continued from page 6 the great mass of readers and their degree of fever from reading tripe now being dished out by the majority. One of the pleasures of reading a good book is the fact you probably had to wade thru two or three rotten ones to find it. A few weeks ago we picked up at a sale for the amazing sum of one dime, a small volume entitled, "Lady Into Fox", and also carrying another story, "Man in the Zoo". Well, well, we chirped, what a bargain! Only a dime! We wish to hell we had the dime back! It would have purchased a big glass of beer, a Buck Rogers rocket pistol, or ten licorice sticks, any of which would have afforded us more enjoyment. "Lady Into Fox" is a dry rambling stinker, concerning the trials and tribulations of an honest English gentleman who unknowingly married a were-fox, we suppose the critter could be called. Presto-chango, one night his wife develops into a fox and trots away, much to his annoyance and agitation. Presently she presents him with a litter of little were-foxes, we presume, and conveniently gets herself bumped off by some of the boys riding to the hounds. We were never so glad to see a femme done away. And then with a calculating eye we approached "Man in the Zoo", by the same author unfortunately. It was slightly better, just slightly. Some poor boob is jilted by his femme friend (in London); and as revenge concocts the idea of living in the zoo with the animals until such time as she repents. He persuades the zoo authorities they need a speciman of genus homo, and they clap him between a couple apes. By and by the girl gives in, but don't let that bother you. The book has neat (Continued on page 14)
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