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Diablerie, February 1944
Page 6
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6 diablerie Motley lonmg and cool, but she was onjecting. Suddenly there was a high piercing whine. "Look," I cried, "it's a bird, it's a meteor - no! IT'S A PATROL GLIDER!!" The whining stopped - the patrol glider had landed. I rushed to the front lawn There in the petunias lay a blue patrol glider! Out stepped an engineer. He fell of his face. He weaved toward me after getting up and clapped a beefy hand on my shoulder. "Y'got a drink," quoth he. I dragged out my hip flask and rendered first aid. "Well, Wickard," he said, "enunciating each word with a natural perfection. "I got great newsh for you, m'lad. You're going to be a p-p-p-patrol man. Like me. Hic!" He fell on the ground in a near stupor. "Wickard?" I replied, "my name is Columbus. Kimball Columbus. Wickard lives next door." "Oh my Gawd," moaned the engineer from his resting place on the lawn. "I've made a mishtake again. The wrong yard. Damn theshe shilly regulationsh. Why can't we notify yez by mail?" He burped loudly and staggered dizzily over to Old Man Wickard's yard. "Wickard," I heard him saying, "I've got great newsh for you - " Then a groan and a sudden thump. The patrol man had had one too many. "Obscenity," I said. and returned to my hammock. - MOTLEY Death... The trickster! Watch him harlequin down the hall. Cap and bells...the door Opens and death has Entered. Now the man within will wake. (Death Will sing his funny jingletune And the man will awaken.) Pause and grin - Death fiddles with the dead man's toes! Death! The trickster! -Hugh Madison
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6 diablerie Motley lonmg and cool, but she was onjecting. Suddenly there was a high piercing whine. "Look," I cried, "it's a bird, it's a meteor - no! IT'S A PATROL GLIDER!!" The whining stopped - the patrol glider had landed. I rushed to the front lawn There in the petunias lay a blue patrol glider! Out stepped an engineer. He fell of his face. He weaved toward me after getting up and clapped a beefy hand on my shoulder. "Y'got a drink," quoth he. I dragged out my hip flask and rendered first aid. "Well, Wickard," he said, "enunciating each word with a natural perfection. "I got great newsh for you, m'lad. You're going to be a p-p-p-patrol man. Like me. Hic!" He fell on the ground in a near stupor. "Wickard?" I replied, "my name is Columbus. Kimball Columbus. Wickard lives next door." "Oh my Gawd," moaned the engineer from his resting place on the lawn. "I've made a mishtake again. The wrong yard. Damn theshe shilly regulationsh. Why can't we notify yez by mail?" He burped loudly and staggered dizzily over to Old Man Wickard's yard. "Wickard," I heard him saying, "I've got great newsh for you - " Then a groan and a sudden thump. The patrol man had had one too many. "Obscenity," I said. and returned to my hammock. - MOTLEY Death... The trickster! Watch him harlequin down the hall. Cap and bells...the door Opens and death has Entered. Now the man within will wake. (Death Will sing his funny jingletune And the man will awaken.) Pause and grin - Death fiddles with the dead man's toes! Death! The trickster! -Hugh Madison
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