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

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Thing, whole no. 1, Spring 1946

Page 23

   The djinn looked at Mr. Pobbles and Mr. Pobbles nodded.
   There were cocktails.
   They finished the cocktails. They finished the steak. They finished most of the wine.
   "Look1" said Miss Laselle, "I've just had an idea. Where am I?"
   "In Centerton, Ohio," said Mr. Pobbles.
   "That's stepping," said Miss Laselle admiringly. "An hour ago I was in Hollywood. Gee! I'll bet this is raising a smell. You got a radio? Let's listen in."
   Mr. Pobbles turned on the radio.
   "So far," said an excited voice,"there has been no trace of Betty Laselle, glamorous blonde blockbuster of Pacific Studios, nor has there been any explanation of her sudden disappearance from the set. One moment she was there, chatting gaily with Hamilton Kent, her director..."
   "I was bawling him out for two-timing me with a little red-headed bit-player," explained Miss Laselle equably.
   "Police have thrown a cordon around the entire city of Los Angeles," continued the radio voice, "for it is not believed that Miss Laselle's abductors could have taken her far in the brief time at their disposal."
   "Oh, yeah?" asked Miss Laselle elegantly.
   "Airports, rail and bus terminals and highways are all under airtight guard and the police promise an arrest within the hour."
   "Hot dog!" said Miss Laselle. "Fill 'em up, Pobby and let's have another." She began to sing, in her famous throaty voice. It was not a nice song and Mr. Pobbles, who had been well brought up, blushed for the second time.
   Miss Laselle kissed him. "You're sweet, Pobby," she said, "and I'm going to let you call me Betty."
   Mr. Pobbles gulped. "Look, Betty," he ventured, "won't you let me get you a dressing gown?"
   Miss Laselle shook her carefully blond curls. "Nix" she said. "nix." That's an old-fashioned word meaning No. I'm playing in a period picture -- all about 1915."
   Mr. Pobbles leaned back in his chair and fondled his glass. After all, why worry? Hadn't the djinn assured him that, if danger appeared, Miss Laselle'd be dumped back into Hollywood in the flick of an eye? And, anyhow, it was fun. Miss Laselle was singing the seventeenth verse of her naughty song and the djinn was snoring gently in the armchair at the other side of the room. The evening was hazy--yes, that was the proper word for it--but dreamily, buzzy and comfortable, like a snooze in the grass under an apple tree on an August day. Mr Pobbles closed his eyes.
   That was when Mrs. Pobbles came in with Mr. Galeano. They had a little trouble outside, trying different keys, but finally got the right one and come in.
   Mrs. Pobbles screamed. Mr. Galeano said something profane that showed he was surprised. Then he stood there, grinning.
   Mrs. Pobbles screamed again and Miss Laselle opened one eye.
       [Image/graphic]
   "Scram, sister," she said in a cultured Hollywood accent.
   This is my own home," said Mrs. Pobbles, "and I will not scram. I want an explanation," she said, "and I want it quick."
   The radio broke in on her: "There is still not a sign of the glamorous Betty Laselle, abducted two hours ago," said the announcer.

Saving...

The djinn looked at Mr. Pobbles and Mr. Pobbles nodded. There were cocktails. They finished the cocktails. They finished the steak. They finished most of the wine. "Look1" said Miss Laselle, "I've just had an idea. Where am I?" "In Centerton, Ohio," said Mr. Pobbles. "That's stepping," said Miss Laselle admiringly. "An hour ago I was in Hollywood. Gee! I'll bet this is raising a smell. You got a radio? Let's listen in." Mr. Pobbles turned on the radio. "So far," said an excited voice,"there has been no trace of Betty Laselle, glamorous blonde blockbuster of Pacific Studios, nor has there been any explanation of her sudden disappearance from the set. One moment she was there, chatting gaily with Hamilton Kent, her director..." "I was bawling him out for two-timing me with a little red-headed bit-player," explained Miss Laselle equably. "Police have thrown a cordon around the entire city of Los Angeles," continued the radio voice, "for it is not believed that Miss Laselle's abductors could have taken her far in the brief time at their disposal." "Oh, yeah?" asked Miss Laselle elegantly. "Airports, rail and bus terminals and highways are all under airtight guard and the police promise an arrest within the hour." "Hot dog!" said Miss Laselle. "Fill 'em up, Pobby and let's have another." She began to sing, in her famous throaty voice. It was not a nice song and Mr. Pobbles, who had been well brought up, blushed for the second time. Miss Laselle kissed him. "You're sweet, Pobby," she said, "and I'm going to let you call me Betty." Mr. Pobbles gulped. "Look, Betty," he ventured, "won't you let me get you a dressing gown?" Miss Laselle shook her carefully blond curls. "Nix" she said. "nix." That's an old-fashioned word meaning No. I'm playing in a period picture -- all about 1915." Mr. Pobbles leaned back in his chair and fondled his glass. After all, why worry? Hadn't the djinn assured him that, if danger appeared, Miss Laselle'd be dumped back into Hollywood in the flick of an eye? And, anyhow, it was fun. Miss Laselle was singing the seventeenth verse of her naughty song and the djinn was snoring gently in the armchair at the other side of the room. The evening was hazy--yes, that was the proper word for it--but dreamily, buzzy and comfortable, like a snooze in the grass under an apple tree on an August day. Mr Pobbles closed his eyes. That was when Mrs. Pobbles came in with Mr. Galeano. They had a little trouble outside, trying different keys, but finally got the right one and come in. Mrs. Pobbles screamed. Mr. Galeano said something profane that showed he was surprised. Then he stood there, grinning. Mrs. Pobbles screamed again and Miss Laselle opened one eye. [Image/graphic] "Scram, sister," she said in a cultured Hollywood accent. This is my own home," said Mrs. Pobbles, "and I will not scram. I want an explanation," she said, "and I want it quick." The radio broke in on her: "There is still not a sign of the glamorous Betty Laselle, abducted two hours ago," said the announcer.