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Fantasia, v. 1, issue 1, January 1941
Page 18
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DJINN FIZZ by Mickey Finn The ManInTheBlueTopper flew out of the whispering night astride a great snow-white bat that muttered to itself in the Carthaginian vernacular. The nearer stars made obeisance as the ManInTheBlueTopper passed them by, and curious winged denizens native to the fifth outermost planet of Procyon observed the phenomenon with some wonderment, dutifully noting it in their journals. TheManInTheBlueTopper had travelled far from his winter home on the crest of a mountain a thousand leagues in height, and the great white bat was lightly dappled with vermillion perspiration. At last, after putting forests and deserts and several singular polka-dot icebergs behind him, TheManInTheBlueTopper bade his mount descend. The bat complied, and spiralled downward in gigantic arcs while St. Elmo's fire flickered on the tips of his extended wings. TheManInTheBlueTopper was slightly unbalanced by his long solitude. "I don't like Amazing Stories," he mumbled to himself, following this inexplicable outburst with a rattle of mad, high-pitched laughter. "I think," said the great white bat, "that we had better change our course for a remote sand-bar in the unexplored stretches of the Indian Ocean..." And so it was that they descended, at length, on the white, pebble-strewn beach of the remote sand-bar. Herman the Pixie and Falstaff the Djinn sat waiting for them. While TheManInTheBlueTopper dismounted, the great white bat occupied himself by scratching in the sand a geometric demonstration of the theorem that the square of the hypoteneuse of a right-angle triangle equals the squares of the other two sides combined. "A universally understood theorem", declared the bat in Sanskrit. "Particularly useful in making Martians and such understand that God Is Love." Hearty handshakes followed, and Falstaff the Djinn exhibited his pile of the mosts of the besta in science-fiction. "Gosh, Wow, Boy-O-Boy!" he cried enthusiastically. "It's the greatest in the land and the best that's on the stand!" "Yesiree, yesiree, yesiree, yesiree!" all three chorused amid paroxysms of sobbing from the great white bat. "Where in Hell did you get those rags, Falstaff?" shrieks TheManInTheBlueTopper when the gunpowder fumes have blown away. "I didn't," whispers Falstaff the Djinn, while Pixie Herman lets fly a venemous chuckle. "It's the subs, you see. The Indigestible Triton had indigestion, and heaved them up right here on this beach!" "And we never even knew," amends Herman, "that the poor sucker was a science-fiction fan!"
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DJINN FIZZ by Mickey Finn The ManInTheBlueTopper flew out of the whispering night astride a great snow-white bat that muttered to itself in the Carthaginian vernacular. The nearer stars made obeisance as the ManInTheBlueTopper passed them by, and curious winged denizens native to the fifth outermost planet of Procyon observed the phenomenon with some wonderment, dutifully noting it in their journals. TheManInTheBlueTopper had travelled far from his winter home on the crest of a mountain a thousand leagues in height, and the great white bat was lightly dappled with vermillion perspiration. At last, after putting forests and deserts and several singular polka-dot icebergs behind him, TheManInTheBlueTopper bade his mount descend. The bat complied, and spiralled downward in gigantic arcs while St. Elmo's fire flickered on the tips of his extended wings. TheManInTheBlueTopper was slightly unbalanced by his long solitude. "I don't like Amazing Stories," he mumbled to himself, following this inexplicable outburst with a rattle of mad, high-pitched laughter. "I think," said the great white bat, "that we had better change our course for a remote sand-bar in the unexplored stretches of the Indian Ocean..." And so it was that they descended, at length, on the white, pebble-strewn beach of the remote sand-bar. Herman the Pixie and Falstaff the Djinn sat waiting for them. While TheManInTheBlueTopper dismounted, the great white bat occupied himself by scratching in the sand a geometric demonstration of the theorem that the square of the hypoteneuse of a right-angle triangle equals the squares of the other two sides combined. "A universally understood theorem", declared the bat in Sanskrit. "Particularly useful in making Martians and such understand that God Is Love." Hearty handshakes followed, and Falstaff the Djinn exhibited his pile of the mosts of the besta in science-fiction. "Gosh, Wow, Boy-O-Boy!" he cried enthusiastically. "It's the greatest in the land and the best that's on the stand!" "Yesiree, yesiree, yesiree, yesiree!" all three chorused amid paroxysms of sobbing from the great white bat. "Where in Hell did you get those rags, Falstaff?" shrieks TheManInTheBlueTopper when the gunpowder fumes have blown away. "I didn't," whispers Falstaff the Djinn, while Pixie Herman lets fly a venemous chuckle. "It's the subs, you see. The Indigestible Triton had indigestion, and heaved them up right here on this beach!" "And we never even knew," amends Herman, "that the poor sucker was a science-fiction fan!"
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