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Comet, v. 1, issue 1, January-February 1940
Page 15
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SCIENTIFIC CHRISTMAS SUGGESTIONS -or- HAPPY NEW YEAR: JUST TRY AND HAVE ONE! [Illustrations of a cat head, dog head, bird head, and a smiling man with a rocket through his head.] (Editor's note: Please let it be known that the author of this remarkable story is none-other than Hoy Ping Pong's foster-brother who recently graduated from one world renowned institution, namely...NAPA!) AUTHOR'S FOREWORD: I, too, have a scrap book of strange events which I call "Feather Salesmen's Enigma." These events deal with my experience in the "Galactic Patrol" and I shall proceed to tell of the three most interesting. H. P. Stix. CASE NUMBER ONE or WHY WILBUR WOULDN'T COME OUT: We were going in secret stealth to the hideout of the Plutonian Amazons where strong men become weak and weak men just went...whew! Back of us in the space craft of GALACTIC PATROL INCORPORATED was the staff's mascot, a Martian cat named "Pussy" (odd name for cat, don' you think?) with whom everyone was undetachably attached because of the cat's whimsicle "kitten-ish". She was a real family cat--if you know what I mean--and always felt very badly if we went away and left her. Always tagging one around, but this time it was decided that nothing could be done but leave "Pussy" behind to avoid harm coming to her. We had finally arrived at the hide out's location after a two minute search. We dashed in the door only to find ourselves surrounded by the Amazons--what a thrill--I mean to say, what a horrible situation to find oneself in on lonely Pluto. Cold and deserted. On friendlier terms one might be led to say that Pluto was rather hospitable and warm--nay--hot! At least under the collar. A huge ray gun was being pointed directly at us when to the men's sudden joy, a scratching and whinning came at the door. The Amazons scampered--we were saved--and whom do you think it was that did it? Well...we opened the door and there stood...no one! Just the wind playing pranks on us. Thank God for the pranks, tho. It saved our lives. CASE NUMBER TWO or THE BLOW THAT KILLED UNCLE CHARLIE: Speaking of animals, that reminds me of a Mercurian Puppy we had--close relative to the American Hairless Dog--both a couple of Hot Dogs. Named him Fido. Named him myself and proud of the job. He, too, was severly in love with the lot of us. Well, we were going on a search for the lost Vesuminous Mines of Ceres which supplied a potion to give one suspended animation for 100 years. It was in a gas which, if inhaled, produced the required effects. 11 hours later we were dead tired from stumbling over Ceres very uneven rocky footing. A member of the party sighted a nice cool cranny in the shades of the eventide by the only babbling brook we had ever seen on Ceres. We sat down, and each man took a cupful of water from the stream. It was quite restful in this spot we had stumbled across. Suddenly Jack looked down at his cup and said at once, "My water's all gone!" Other voices took up the cry; indeed, as I looked down I noted, too, that my water was gone. And twenty minutes later every man in the company was fast asleep! A scratching woke me up later--only to find a heavy growth of beard on my face. Many seem [illegible] when I tell them of this experience, and ask questions which I (over)
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SCIENTIFIC CHRISTMAS SUGGESTIONS -or- HAPPY NEW YEAR: JUST TRY AND HAVE ONE! [Illustrations of a cat head, dog head, bird head, and a smiling man with a rocket through his head.] (Editor's note: Please let it be known that the author of this remarkable story is none-other than Hoy Ping Pong's foster-brother who recently graduated from one world renowned institution, namely...NAPA!) AUTHOR'S FOREWORD: I, too, have a scrap book of strange events which I call "Feather Salesmen's Enigma." These events deal with my experience in the "Galactic Patrol" and I shall proceed to tell of the three most interesting. H. P. Stix. CASE NUMBER ONE or WHY WILBUR WOULDN'T COME OUT: We were going in secret stealth to the hideout of the Plutonian Amazons where strong men become weak and weak men just went...whew! Back of us in the space craft of GALACTIC PATROL INCORPORATED was the staff's mascot, a Martian cat named "Pussy" (odd name for cat, don' you think?) with whom everyone was undetachably attached because of the cat's whimsicle "kitten-ish". She was a real family cat--if you know what I mean--and always felt very badly if we went away and left her. Always tagging one around, but this time it was decided that nothing could be done but leave "Pussy" behind to avoid harm coming to her. We had finally arrived at the hide out's location after a two minute search. We dashed in the door only to find ourselves surrounded by the Amazons--what a thrill--I mean to say, what a horrible situation to find oneself in on lonely Pluto. Cold and deserted. On friendlier terms one might be led to say that Pluto was rather hospitable and warm--nay--hot! At least under the collar. A huge ray gun was being pointed directly at us when to the men's sudden joy, a scratching and whinning came at the door. The Amazons scampered--we were saved--and whom do you think it was that did it? Well...we opened the door and there stood...no one! Just the wind playing pranks on us. Thank God for the pranks, tho. It saved our lives. CASE NUMBER TWO or THE BLOW THAT KILLED UNCLE CHARLIE: Speaking of animals, that reminds me of a Mercurian Puppy we had--close relative to the American Hairless Dog--both a couple of Hot Dogs. Named him Fido. Named him myself and proud of the job. He, too, was severly in love with the lot of us. Well, we were going on a search for the lost Vesuminous Mines of Ceres which supplied a potion to give one suspended animation for 100 years. It was in a gas which, if inhaled, produced the required effects. 11 hours later we were dead tired from stumbling over Ceres very uneven rocky footing. A member of the party sighted a nice cool cranny in the shades of the eventide by the only babbling brook we had ever seen on Ceres. We sat down, and each man took a cupful of water from the stream. It was quite restful in this spot we had stumbled across. Suddenly Jack looked down at his cup and said at once, "My water's all gone!" Other voices took up the cry; indeed, as I looked down I noted, too, that my water was gone. And twenty minutes later every man in the company was fast asleep! A scratching woke me up later--only to find a heavy growth of beard on my face. Many seem [illegible] when I tell them of this experience, and ask questions which I (over)
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