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Fantascience Digest, v. 2, issue 1, Novermber-December 1938
Page 22
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Paqe 22 FANTASCIENCE DIGEST and the fingers were spread out widely. Then--oh, how can I record the burning shame of it--it waggled! A singularly frightful look was coming over Mr. Smith's face. He made faint squeaking noises. Abruptly he yelped, and doubled up, only to spring erect with a loud shriek. One of my arms--the other one--had crawled undetected upon the chair arm and had punched Mr. Smith in the stomach. "It's a judgment," he murmured feebly. "A judgment on Stinky for writing that last yarn. . ." Then he made for the door, and I could not feel sorry when my foot kicked him in the pants. But now he is gone. How can I face him tomorrow? Even though, now that the effect of the serum has worn off, I am once more whole and in one piece. I dare not look him in the eye. His stare will scrutinize my hands, and it will go down to my foot--and you do not yet know the worst of it! Some trace of the serums must still linger in my veins. True, I have control over all my body--except for my foot. I kick people in the pants! I cannot help it. That diabolical serum of Professor Burns has made me into a monster. Go where I will, I cannot--I cannot--control the insane activity of my foot. Oops! There it goes again! Now I have lost my butler. He has just given me notice and gone in search of liniment. The gun! Where is it? Ah, here it is on the stove. The only way out for me. . .the only way, now. It should not hurt much. I shall press the muzzle down firmly, squeeze the trigger gently--and it will be all over the next moment. Let me steady my courage. Now.. one. . . two. . . THREE! Bang! (Editorial note: The sad fate of Mr. Kuttner will be a great shock to many science fiction fans, we are sure, especially that large and enthusiastic group who would have preferred to shoot him themselves.) (Astral note from Mr. Kuttner: It's a lie!) * * * * * * * ////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// CAN YOU ANSWER THESE? by RAM ////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// I had been intending to discontinue this department. However, a few weeks ago the following card was received from Mr. Ray Pauley. He says in part: "Received the latest FD this morning and think its the best yet, disregarding the fact that the illustrations were not as good as last issue and you left out the question and answer department.' Well, I'm glad someone is interested in this type of thing. I had my doubts. Anyway, I have decided to continue this column. Do I hear any groans of horror? Here they are: 1) Which famous science fiction fan is an accredited (?) authority on scientifilms (P.S. He lives in California!) 2) "The Science Fiction Series" were a group of small booklets by well-known authors published by? 3) Who edited "The Time Traveler" the first real fan magazine? 4) What famous author has had his novels published in Braille for the blind (Hint: He writes stories of a Jungle superman. Hey, are these too easy?) That's all I have space for this month. Toodle-oo.
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Paqe 22 FANTASCIENCE DIGEST and the fingers were spread out widely. Then--oh, how can I record the burning shame of it--it waggled! A singularly frightful look was coming over Mr. Smith's face. He made faint squeaking noises. Abruptly he yelped, and doubled up, only to spring erect with a loud shriek. One of my arms--the other one--had crawled undetected upon the chair arm and had punched Mr. Smith in the stomach. "It's a judgment," he murmured feebly. "A judgment on Stinky for writing that last yarn. . ." Then he made for the door, and I could not feel sorry when my foot kicked him in the pants. But now he is gone. How can I face him tomorrow? Even though, now that the effect of the serum has worn off, I am once more whole and in one piece. I dare not look him in the eye. His stare will scrutinize my hands, and it will go down to my foot--and you do not yet know the worst of it! Some trace of the serums must still linger in my veins. True, I have control over all my body--except for my foot. I kick people in the pants! I cannot help it. That diabolical serum of Professor Burns has made me into a monster. Go where I will, I cannot--I cannot--control the insane activity of my foot. Oops! There it goes again! Now I have lost my butler. He has just given me notice and gone in search of liniment. The gun! Where is it? Ah, here it is on the stove. The only way out for me. . .the only way, now. It should not hurt much. I shall press the muzzle down firmly, squeeze the trigger gently--and it will be all over the next moment. Let me steady my courage. Now.. one. . . two. . . THREE! Bang! (Editorial note: The sad fate of Mr. Kuttner will be a great shock to many science fiction fans, we are sure, especially that large and enthusiastic group who would have preferred to shoot him themselves.) (Astral note from Mr. Kuttner: It's a lie!) * * * * * * * ////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// CAN YOU ANSWER THESE? by RAM ////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// I had been intending to discontinue this department. However, a few weeks ago the following card was received from Mr. Ray Pauley. He says in part: "Received the latest FD this morning and think its the best yet, disregarding the fact that the illustrations were not as good as last issue and you left out the question and answer department.' Well, I'm glad someone is interested in this type of thing. I had my doubts. Anyway, I have decided to continue this column. Do I hear any groans of horror? Here they are: 1) Which famous science fiction fan is an accredited (?) authority on scientifilms (P.S. He lives in California!) 2) "The Science Fiction Series" were a group of small booklets by well-known authors published by? 3) Who edited "The Time Traveler" the first real fan magazine? 4) What famous author has had his novels published in Braille for the blind (Hint: He writes stories of a Jungle superman. Hey, are these too easy?) That's all I have space for this month. Toodle-oo.
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