DIY History | Transcribe | Hevelin Fanzines | Thing, whole no. 1, Spring 1946

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Thing, whole no. 1, Spring 1946

Page 22

heart to eat it. I'm afraid I'm too honest to have a djinn working for me." He made up his mind. "Yes, take it back and steal me another, but this time steal one from somebody in Argentina, where they don't belong to the United Nations, and don't have any rationing."
   "Right," said the djinn, and picked up the tray. "I'll get the next steak from a Nazi in Argentina."
   It hardly seemed that he had been gone. The new tray was heavier, the steak bigger and fatter. It had a delicious odor and the hashed brown potatoes and the little green peas were done to a turn. And there were three frosted bottles in a bucket of ice.
   "I took the best I could get," said the slave. "It's a dinner for three fat Germans, so we ought to have somebody to help us eat it."
   "Of course," said Mr. Pobbles. "An excellent idea. But who?"
   The slave cleared his throat. "How about a beautiful woman? Meals always taste better with a beautiful woman somewhere about."
   "I don't know," said M. Pobbles doubtfully. "I'm a married man."
   "But where is the risk?" asked the djinn. "If the situation begins to look bad you can always tip me the wink and there she is, dumped right back where she came from, and nobody the wiser but you."
   "That's right," conceded Mr. Pobbles. The idea was beginning to appeal. It had been a long time since he had dinner with a beautiful woman other than Mrs. Pobbles, who was all right in her way.
   "Think1" said the djinn. "The most beautiful woman in the world, if you want her."
   "You have it your way," said Mr. Pobbles. "Bring me the most beautiful woman in the world."
   The djinn was gone.
   Mr. Pobbles looked at the woman and went white.
   Mrs. Gray looked at Mr. Pobbles and quivered gently. She was still very, very drunk.
   Something went "whoosh" inside Mr. Pobbles and he felt very weak.
   "What's the matter?" asked the djinn.
   "Is this your idea of the most beautiful woman in the world?"
   "Of course. I'm an Oriental. I like 'em that way."
   "And I," said Mr. Pobbles, "am not an Oriental. I have been trying for ten years to look at that woman without feeling ill. Take her away. Take her back where you got her and bring me--bring me---."
   "Yes?" prompted the slave of the lamp.
   "Bring me the most beautiful woman in the world according to my own standards."
   "Right!" The djinn vanished. Mrs. Gray vanished also leaving only a feeling of quivering in the air. In ten seconds another woman was in her place.
   "Holy mackerel!" said Mr. Pobbles. "It's Betty Laselle, the movie star! "He blushed violently. I'll get you a dressing gown."
   "Think nothing of it," said Miss Lasello. She sat down opposite Mr. Pobbles and swung her slim legs over the arm of the overstuffed leather chair. "I was on the set, rehearsing a scene for the fifteenth time without a take and I was getting bored stiff. Then, zingo! I was here. Thanks a lot, but how me?"
   Mr. Pobbles told her. "I own Aladdin's lamp," he explained, "and I asked for the most beautiful woman in the world. You're it."
   "Boy oh boy oh boy!" said Miss Laselle. "Wait till my publicity boys hear about this! Will I put those snooty  dames over at Paramount and M-G-M where they belong!" She rose, stretching her lingeried figure luxuriously. "What's this? A feed?"
   "All set for you," said the djinn. "If there is anything else Madam desires...."
   "I could do with a cocktail," ventured Miss Laselle.

Saving...

heart to eat it. I'm afraid I'm too honest to have a djinn working for me." He made up his mind. "Yes, take it back and steal me another, but this time steal one from somebody in Argentina, where they don't belong to the United Nations, and don't have any rationing." "Right," said the djinn, and picked up the tray. "I'll get the next steak from a Nazi in Argentina." It hardly seemed that he had been gone. The new tray was heavier, the steak bigger and fatter. It had a delicious odor and the hashed brown potatoes and the little green peas were done to a turn. And there were three frosted bottles in a bucket of ice. "I took the best I could get," said the slave. "It's a dinner for three fat Germans, so we ought to have somebody to help us eat it." "Of course," said Mr. Pobbles. "An excellent idea. But who?" The slave cleared his throat. "How about a beautiful woman? Meals always taste better with a beautiful woman somewhere about." "I don't know," said M. Pobbles doubtfully. "I'm a married man." "But where is the risk?" asked the djinn. "If the situation begins to look bad you can always tip me the wink and there she is, dumped right back where she came from, and nobody the wiser but you." "That's right," conceded Mr. Pobbles. The idea was beginning to appeal. It had been a long time since he had dinner with a beautiful woman other than Mrs. Pobbles, who was all right in her way. "Think1" said the djinn. "The most beautiful woman in the world, if you want her." "You have it your way," said Mr. Pobbles. "Bring me the most beautiful woman in the world." The djinn was gone. Mr. Pobbles looked at the woman and went white. Mrs. Gray looked at Mr. Pobbles and quivered gently. She was still very, very drunk. Something went "whoosh" inside Mr. Pobbles and he felt very weak. "What's the matter?" asked the djinn. "Is this your idea of the most beautiful woman in the world?" "Of course. I'm an Oriental. I like 'em that way." "And I," said Mr. Pobbles, "am not an Oriental. I have been trying for ten years to look at that woman without feeling ill. Take her away. Take her back where you got her and bring me--bring me---." "Yes?" prompted the slave of the lamp. "Bring me the most beautiful woman in the world according to my own standards." "Right!" The djinn vanished. Mrs. Gray vanished also leaving only a feeling of quivering in the air. In ten seconds another woman was in her place. "Holy mackerel!" said Mr. Pobbles. "It's Betty Laselle, the movie star! "He blushed violently. I'll get you a dressing gown." "Think nothing of it," said Miss Lasello. She sat down opposite Mr. Pobbles and swung her slim legs over the arm of the overstuffed leather chair. "I was on the set, rehearsing a scene for the fifteenth time without a take and I was getting bored stiff. Then, zingo! I was here. Thanks a lot, but how me?" Mr. Pobbles told her. "I own Aladdin's lamp," he explained, "and I asked for the most beautiful woman in the world. You're it." "Boy oh boy oh boy!" said Miss Laselle. "Wait till my publicity boys hear about this! Will I put those snooty dames over at Paramount and M-G-M where they belong!" She rose, stretching her lingeried figure luxuriously. "What's this? A feed?" "All set for you," said the djinn. "If there is anything else Madam desires...." "I could do with a cocktail," ventured Miss Laselle.