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Damn Thing, v. 1, issue 5, May 1941

Page 5

THE DAMN THING                                PAGE FIVE
__________________________________________

      QUICK, WHERE IS THE MEN'S ROOM?
              by Claude Bloomer Quid.

   I dropped by Ackerman's menage the other p.m. to look through his collection in a lazy fashion until I came across a little yellow piece of paper, stapled to a cardboard square on which "gold plated" was stuck the SFL emblem given out by Wonder's Weisinger.

   If any of you fellas havn't seen this piece of paper yet, send in for a new emblem. Confidentially, my stomach wouldn't lie down for ten hours after I got a gander at it. Here's the contents of that yellow paper:

   "Hi, Space Pilot! Red Spot of Jupiter, but here's that gold-plated SFL emblem on your old Space Sarge has been telling you about on his ethe-radio. It's as rare as a Martian fire-opal, you can be a sun against a meteor, and I had to comb the nine-planets to find it."
   "Well, Rocket Rookie, this button makes you a full-fledged space veteren. You're welcome now to passages on all voyages of the good ship THRILLING WONDER STORIES, STARTLING STORIES, and CAPTAIN FUTURE. And I'll be riding the space-lanes with you in every issue.
                                 All the luck in the Universe,
                                     Signed,
                                                Sergeant Saturn.
   (There will be a slight pause while the readers rush pell-mel for the lavoratory)

   Well, all you rocket rookies, I don't know how you feel about it, but I'm just thrilled to pieces to think that Old Sarge Saturn would bother to send me such an exciting note. He couldn't have sent out more than twenty thousand just like it. Just think, kids, we can all go on purile voyages with Captain Future and his screwball cohorts. We can grunt and groan with the muscle boys in Thrilling wonder. We are, without so much as lifting our gluteus maximi, full fledged, A#1 Space Pilots. Oh My God, it's so thrilling. God bless the Sargent for sending such a cute note. Red Spot of Jupiter, kids hold me up or I'll fall down in ecstasy. I'll bet a sun against a meteor the boys up in the toilet at TWS spent twenty minutes thinking up this ducky note. 

   Buck Rogers, in all his hammy glory, was never so inane, never so absurd, never so stinko as T.W.S. has grown today. If anybody ever sees me with a copy of their pubs in my hands again, they can shoot me and broadcast it over the ducky etheradio.

   Red Spot of Jupiter, where in hell is the Wonder Stories of old? God only knows, but from the looks of the current issues the mag is published for a bunch of drooly mouthed two-year-olds, Miske included.

   Yes, Mr. Weisinger! Yes, Mr. Margulise! I know you are making money, but don't ever send any more notices through the mail signed by Sargy Saturn. (Ugh!) You are stinking up the market, ruining the future of your mags, if you only knew it. Or am I growing up? Maybe if I were young, I would just love old Sarge. But,

Saving...

THE DAMN THING PAGE FIVE __________________________________________ QUICK, WHERE IS THE MEN'S ROOM? by Claude Bloomer Quid. I dropped by Ackerman's menage the other p.m. to look through his collection in a lazy fashion until I came across a little yellow piece of paper, stapled to a cardboard square on which "gold plated" was stuck the SFL emblem given out by Wonder's Weisinger. If any of you fellas havn't seen this piece of paper yet, send in for a new emblem. Confidentially, my stomach wouldn't lie down for ten hours after I got a gander at it. Here's the contents of that yellow paper: "Hi, Space Pilot! Red Spot of Jupiter, but here's that gold-plated SFL emblem on your old Space Sarge has been telling you about on his ethe-radio. It's as rare as a Martian fire-opal, you can be a sun against a meteor, and I had to comb the nine-planets to find it." "Well, Rocket Rookie, this button makes you a full-fledged space veteren. You're welcome now to passages on all voyages of the good ship THRILLING WONDER STORIES, STARTLING STORIES, and CAPTAIN FUTURE. And I'll be riding the space-lanes with you in every issue. All the luck in the Universe, Signed, Sergeant Saturn. (There will be a slight pause while the readers rush pell-mel for the lavoratory) Well, all you rocket rookies, I don't know how you feel about it, but I'm just thrilled to pieces to think that Old Sarge Saturn would bother to send me such an exciting note. He couldn't have sent out more than twenty thousand just like it. Just think, kids, we can all go on purile voyages with Captain Future and his screwball cohorts. We can grunt and groan with the muscle boys in Thrilling wonder. We are, without so much as lifting our gluteus maximi, full fledged, A#1 Space Pilots. Oh My God, it's so thrilling. God bless the Sargent for sending such a cute note. Red Spot of Jupiter, kids hold me up or I'll fall down in ecstasy. I'll bet a sun against a meteor the boys up in the toilet at TWS spent twenty minutes thinking up this ducky note. Buck Rogers, in all his hammy glory, was never so inane, never so absurd, never so stinko as T.W.S. has grown today. If anybody ever sees me with a copy of their pubs in my hands again, they can shoot me and broadcast it over the ducky etheradio. Red Spot of Jupiter, where in hell is the Wonder Stories of old? God only knows, but from the looks of the current issues the mag is published for a bunch of drooly mouthed two-year-olds, Miske included. Yes, Mr. Weisinger! Yes, Mr. Margulise! I know you are making money, but don't ever send any more notices through the mail signed by Sargy Saturn. (Ugh!) You are stinking up the market, ruining the future of your mags, if you only knew it. Or am I growing up? Maybe if I were young, I would just love old Sarge. But,