DIY History | Transcribe | Hevelin Fanzines | Chanticleer

Transcribe
Translate

Page 15

Suddenly he burst into a clearing and his eyes spied an abode which was built like and acutely resembled a confectioner's nightmare. "Aha", he cried, "a lair cake". "Now I can have my cake and live in it too". And so our little hero, of the golden tresses, moved in lock, stock, and barrel. The latter was occupied by stotch, pardon, scotch. And soda days passed quietly.
Gornch's bedroom was on the top later, right under the P in HAPPY BIRTHDAY. Sometimes it rained but the house was staunch and Gornch didn't get wet. Gornch would lay on his little bed and day dream by the hour. He thought of the snerpdillys that used to edinlo over the sotlines, of the smordenburgers with whipped cream and of his old bosom pal, Captain Suture Earthsavia.
Winter fell over the valley with a loud crash. Snow tripped gaily down the mountainside and comforted the valley, supplying a nice marshmallow icing for Gornch's lair cake. Jack Frost skipped forthily through the valley, painting phantasmagorical pictures on the window panes, burdening the trees with stiffened dew. Icicles hung lazily on whatever they found to hang lazily on and the cold north wind whistled "Hut Sut Ralson" through the forest and blowed at the man who had no place to lie down. The cold enveloped everything, practically smothered it. Snowflakes tinkled in the moonlight and the brubbling book sang icily. In other words it was Winter, very much Winte,r and who in the hell likes Winter?
Gornch was hibernating when Captain Suture burst into the upper layer. The swashbuckling Captain looked at Gornch, looked at the ceiling, looked at the mirror, and hissed vehemently at his reflection, then looked agag at Gornch. Captain Suture was a good looker and his x-ray vision took in everything. In fact, the man was a veritable ocular kelptomaniac. "Gornch", drooled the Captain, "I hate to tell you this but you are a THING". "Why Captain", drawled Gornch sleepily, "I didn't know you cared!" "This is no time for frippancy", the Captain came back. "This is serious. You are doomed unless you come clean."
"I'll take a bath immeditately", Gornch ejaculated, "and by the way, just how did I get to be a THING?" 
"That, my friend," answered the earth-saving Captain, "is a long story. I've just returned from Fracturia and I might say that I had a cracking good time. But that is beside the point, you are doomed unless you say 'proot' immediately."
"Proot", said Gornch, and then, "But if that is all I have to do to save myself, why do I have to come with you?"
"Oh, I'm going to the Dentist", answered the brave Captain, "and I'm just too horribly afraid".
Spring broke over the valley once more and showered the surrounding countryside with green. Birds buzzed, bees sang, the little cowlets munched on the fresh new grass and the piglets made bubbles in the md. I'll not mention the goats because they always get my nanny, but the cows finally mastered the trick of giving homogoenized milk.
Gornch gazed out of this bedecled beauty, sighed, and thought: "The world's alright, Captain Suture had new uppers, I have a wonderful home and the world has me, wonderful me. But I wonder if it would have been nice to be a THING?

Saving...

Suddenly he burst into a clearing and his eyes spied an abode which was built like and acutely resembled a confectioner's nightmare. "Aha", he cried, "a lair cake". "Now I can have my cake and live in it too". And so our little hero, of the golden tresses, moved in lock, stock, and barrel. The latter was occupied by stotch, pardon, scotch. And soda days passed quietly. Gornch's bedroom was on the top later, right under the P in HAPPY BIRTHDAY. Sometimes it rained but the house was staunch and Gornch didn't get wet. Gornch would lay on his little bed and day dream by the hour. He thought of the snerpdillys that used to edinlo over the sotlines, of the smordenburgers with whipped cream and of his old bosom pal, Captain Suture Earthsavia. Winter fell over the valley with a loud crash. Snow tripped gaily down the mountainside and comforted the valley, supplying a nice marshmallow icing for Gornch's lair cake. Jack Frost skipped forthily through the valley, painting phantasmagorical pictures on the window panes, burdening the trees with stiffened dew. Icicles hung lazily on whatever they found to hang lazily on and the cold north wind whistled "Hut Sut Ralson" through the forest and blowed at the man who had no place to lie down. The cold enveloped everything, practically smothered it. Snowflakes tinkled in the moonlight and the brubbling book sang icily. In other words it was Winter, very much Winte,r and who in the hell likes Winter? Gornch was hibernating when Captain Suture burst into the upper layer. The swashbuckling Captain looked at Gornch, looked at the ceiling, looked at the mirror, and hissed vehemently at his reflection, then looked agag at Gornch. Captain Suture was a good looker and his x-ray vision took in everything. In fact, the man was a veritable ocular kelptomaniac. "Gornch", drooled the Captain, "I hate to tell you this but you are a THING". "Why Captain", drawled Gornch sleepily, "I didn't know you cared!" "This is no time for frippancy", the Captain came back. "This is serious. You are doomed unless you come clean." "I'll take a bath immeditately", Gornch ejaculated, "and by the way, just how did I get to be a THING?" "That, my friend," answered the earth-saving Captain, "is a long story. I've just returned from Fracturia and I might say that I had a cracking good time. But that is beside the point, you are doomed unless you say 'proot' immediately." "Proot", said Gornch, and then, "But if that is all I have to do to save myself, why do I have to come with you?" "Oh, I'm going to the Dentist", answered the brave Captain, "and I'm just too horribly afraid". Spring broke over the valley once more and showered the surrounding countryside with green. Birds buzzed, bees sang, the little cowlets munched on the fresh new grass and the piglets made bubbles in the md. I'll not mention the goats because they always get my nanny, but the cows finally mastered the trick of giving homogoenized milk. Gornch gazed out of this bedecled beauty, sighed, and thought: "The world's alright, Captain Suture had new uppers, I have a wonderful home and the world has me, wonderful me. But I wonder if it would have been nice to be a THING?