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Le Zombie, v. 5, issue 3, whole no. 50, November-December 1942
Page 6
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(6) IF I WEREFAN (WOLF-WOLF) Borrowed without permission from Spaceways Park IX (Never mind what has gone on before. Let's wind this thing up as quickly as possible. To Continue, then:) Art Widner pulled out an eight-shot revolved and bumped off Louis Chauvenet. Chauvenet then reciprocated in kind and handed the gun to Trudy Kuslan, who polished off Doc Lowndes and Hannes Bok in the lash of an eye. Rothman than politely took the lethal weapon from her, and fanning it in western fashion, did away wtih Trudy, Jack Speer. Tucker ducked but was caught in the prop wash and was neatly decapitated. Harry Warner stomped on Rothman's toes, grabbed the gun as it fell from his hand and let him have it, whirling immediatly to clean up the entire Columbia Camp with three well-placed shots. DB Thompson spanked Warner's hands and that worthy fainted dead away, Thompson proving himself a cad by firing as he fell. Long-suffering Morojo snatched the weapon and polished off Ackie, chortling in glee as she gave another to Thompson for good luck. Dale Hart died of fright at the sight of the bodies. Yerke, long an admirer of Morojo, grabbed the gun next and did away with her, Freehafer and Daugherty, snarling: "If I can't have you, no one else will!" Perdue sprang on him in rage and punctured his jugular. Then, he cunningly lined up with entire Minneapolis Mob in a verticalline, made one shot do away with them all. Johnny Michel sprang upon Perdue from behind, twisted the revolver around and made Perdue cat lead. Really. Then Michel, being the last werefan alive, tried to shoot himself but discovered the gun was empty. He promptly swallowed the black stone that was the cause of it all and choked to death. Now let us hope we've seen the end of that! THE END ________________ . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . TIME WAS DEPT: Time was when it was fanzines that were sprouting by the dozen. Now it's the prozines. Unger & Warner's is the newest: Odd Tales -- supposed to be on the stand by this time. And on the other hand, as Warner himself recently pointed out, fanzines are dying by the dozen ! It's a startling fact, but of the eighty-odd titles listed in our Fanzine Yearbook (see January 1942 issue), only 27 saw print this year! A mortality rate not to be proud of. And of those 27 titles, at least 3 have already discontinued publication... long before the end of 1942! Warner's predicted upswing of fan-publishing had better come soon. IRK DEPT: It constantly annoys us to find authors lecturing readers by causing a learned character --preferably the bright hero-- to give astronomy lessons to a dumb stooge at one cent per word (or whatever the magazine pays). While we freely admit the author's plot-base must be made known to the readers, plus a working sketch of his "science" , we gripe loudly whenever they resort to something like this, the hackiest of hack-lines: "Prof. Dimwit cleared his throat and assumed his best lecture-room manner." He continues: "As you know, blah equals peanuts when subdivided by minus gravity. Now, we-----" and so on. We weep . We seem to remember Seaton lecturing Crane. The prize goes to "Lunar Sanctuary" in the Winter Science Fiction Quarterly. Read it and weep !
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(6) IF I WEREFAN (WOLF-WOLF) Borrowed without permission from Spaceways Park IX (Never mind what has gone on before. Let's wind this thing up as quickly as possible. To Continue, then:) Art Widner pulled out an eight-shot revolved and bumped off Louis Chauvenet. Chauvenet then reciprocated in kind and handed the gun to Trudy Kuslan, who polished off Doc Lowndes and Hannes Bok in the lash of an eye. Rothman than politely took the lethal weapon from her, and fanning it in western fashion, did away wtih Trudy, Jack Speer. Tucker ducked but was caught in the prop wash and was neatly decapitated. Harry Warner stomped on Rothman's toes, grabbed the gun as it fell from his hand and let him have it, whirling immediatly to clean up the entire Columbia Camp with three well-placed shots. DB Thompson spanked Warner's hands and that worthy fainted dead away, Thompson proving himself a cad by firing as he fell. Long-suffering Morojo snatched the weapon and polished off Ackie, chortling in glee as she gave another to Thompson for good luck. Dale Hart died of fright at the sight of the bodies. Yerke, long an admirer of Morojo, grabbed the gun next and did away with her, Freehafer and Daugherty, snarling: "If I can't have you, no one else will!" Perdue sprang on him in rage and punctured his jugular. Then, he cunningly lined up with entire Minneapolis Mob in a verticalline, made one shot do away with them all. Johnny Michel sprang upon Perdue from behind, twisted the revolver around and made Perdue cat lead. Really. Then Michel, being the last werefan alive, tried to shoot himself but discovered the gun was empty. He promptly swallowed the black stone that was the cause of it all and choked to death. Now let us hope we've seen the end of that! THE END ________________ . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . TIME WAS DEPT: Time was when it was fanzines that were sprouting by the dozen. Now it's the prozines. Unger & Warner's is the newest: Odd Tales -- supposed to be on the stand by this time. And on the other hand, as Warner himself recently pointed out, fanzines are dying by the dozen ! It's a startling fact, but of the eighty-odd titles listed in our Fanzine Yearbook (see January 1942 issue), only 27 saw print this year! A mortality rate not to be proud of. And of those 27 titles, at least 3 have already discontinued publication... long before the end of 1942! Warner's predicted upswing of fan-publishing had better come soon. IRK DEPT: It constantly annoys us to find authors lecturing readers by causing a learned character --preferably the bright hero-- to give astronomy lessons to a dumb stooge at one cent per word (or whatever the magazine pays). While we freely admit the author's plot-base must be made known to the readers, plus a working sketch of his "science" , we gripe loudly whenever they resort to something like this, the hackiest of hack-lines: "Prof. Dimwit cleared his throat and assumed his best lecture-room manner." He continues: "As you know, blah equals peanuts when subdivided by minus gravity. Now, we-----" and so on. We weep . We seem to remember Seaton lecturing Crane. The prize goes to "Lunar Sanctuary" in the Winter Science Fiction Quarterly. Read it and weep !
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