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Diablerie, February 1944
Page 4
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king of the gay places LEA ~ Lots of wine, women, and per- haps a bit of song in this sat iric little masterpiece, but no swearing—honest ______________________ Every Saturday morning the boys would get together outside of my house and sing dirty songs or maybe shoot some craps until the neighbors rammed their disintergrators through their rat-holes and threatened to cut loose unless the racket stopped. The gang used to kid about this but now they generally shush. Old man Wickard next door is a great hand with a disintergrator and there have been days when he's potted an many as five of the gang at one time. So it was Saturday morning and I was lying in bed playing with Shirley Gibberts, the television star, when I heard the gang yelling outside. It was about seven ayem and the Sunshine Squirters at the corner had just begun manufacturing the artificial sunshine that makes Los Angeles look like the picture post-cards which look like what Los Angeles doesn't look like, if you follow. So I jerked myself to a window and said gently, "What the obscenity is bothering you obscenities? What's all the obscenity?" "I obscenity on your obscenities," retorted Rogers Buck. "Come on down to the Rocket Port. The new, jetless Moon Rocket is about ti cut gravity." "Obscenity," I replied, and leaped into the gravity conveyor, a opening in one wall The force of gravity is utilized in this miraculous contraption to bring anything inside the conveyor tube swiftly and effeciently to the ground floor. I landed with a slight jar, jacked up my arches, and sped on my way. Later at the Rocket Port . . . "Ghu I'm excited," said Priory, giving me the finger. I rejoined with the same, but King size. "Obscenity," I said. Then the great big rocket poked its wonderful nose onto the field. "Goody, goody, goody," we chanted, overcome by this rare sight. How we gazed! (next page)
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king of the gay places LEA ~ Lots of wine, women, and per- haps a bit of song in this sat iric little masterpiece, but no swearing—honest ______________________ Every Saturday morning the boys would get together outside of my house and sing dirty songs or maybe shoot some craps until the neighbors rammed their disintergrators through their rat-holes and threatened to cut loose unless the racket stopped. The gang used to kid about this but now they generally shush. Old man Wickard next door is a great hand with a disintergrator and there have been days when he's potted an many as five of the gang at one time. So it was Saturday morning and I was lying in bed playing with Shirley Gibberts, the television star, when I heard the gang yelling outside. It was about seven ayem and the Sunshine Squirters at the corner had just begun manufacturing the artificial sunshine that makes Los Angeles look like the picture post-cards which look like what Los Angeles doesn't look like, if you follow. So I jerked myself to a window and said gently, "What the obscenity is bothering you obscenities? What's all the obscenity?" "I obscenity on your obscenities," retorted Rogers Buck. "Come on down to the Rocket Port. The new, jetless Moon Rocket is about ti cut gravity." "Obscenity," I replied, and leaped into the gravity conveyor, a opening in one wall The force of gravity is utilized in this miraculous contraption to bring anything inside the conveyor tube swiftly and effeciently to the ground floor. I landed with a slight jar, jacked up my arches, and sped on my way. Later at the Rocket Port . . . "Ghu I'm excited," said Priory, giving me the finger. I rejoined with the same, but King size. "Obscenity," I said. Then the great big rocket poked its wonderful nose onto the field. "Goody, goody, goody," we chanted, overcome by this rare sight. How we gazed! (next page)
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