DIY History | Transcribe | Hevelin Fanzines | Thing, whole no. 1, Spring 1946

Transcribe
Translate

Thing, whole no. 1, Spring 1946

Page 25

approval. Accordingly, I took a vacation. My double has been taking my place before the cameras."
   There was a sensation in the court room.
   "On my way East," continued Miss Laselle, "I stopped off to say how-de-do to my old friend Oscar Pobbles, with whom I used to go to college -- I mean that I met him when he came back for a reunion when I was there. So now I think that you ought to release Mr. Pobbles and apologize to him and I think that Mr. Pobbles should collect a little piece of change by suing Mr. Galeano for false arrest."
   "But what happened to your double?" asked Mr. Cassidy.
   "How do I know what happened to my double?" asked Miss Laselle.
   "Case dismissed," said Mr. Cassidy. Mr. Laselle kissed Mr. Pobbles. Then she kissed Mr. Pobbles several times more, so that the camermen and the newsreel men could get it. Finally M. Pobbles wiped off the lipstick, and walked home with Mrs. Pobbles.
   At first they didn't say much. Mr. Pobbles was darned if he was going to apologize, because if Mrs. Pobbles hadn't taken the Duke of Argyll Scotch none of this would have happened. But everybody stopped him and congratulated him and he began to see that his reputation hadn't been hurt even a bit by what had happened. "A gay dog, that Pobbles!" the men were saying to each other, and the ladies were looking at him with more interested eyes. After all, a man who could attract a famous beauty like Betty Laselle must be pretty Big Time.
   He unbent a little. "If I've been to blame, dear," he said, "I'm sorry. Suppose we forget the whole business."
   "Of course, dear," said Mrs. Pobbles. She walked two or three steps. "But what I want to know, dear, is how we got on top of the church and how that woman got into your den and what about that fat little man who was asleep in the corner."
   "Let's forget the whole business," said Mr. Pobbles. "There are certain things that I prefer not to discuss."
   "Yes, dear," said Mrs. Pobbles. She took at least three more steps before she said. "But...." again. She went on from there.
   Mr. Pobbles paid no attention. He was thinking. What a selfish fellow he had been, he reflected, to have used the great power of the lamp only to satisfy his own desires. From now on it would be different. He would have the djinn remove every weapon of war from German or Japanese hands and sink them in the deepest part of the sea. He would clear the slums, have adequate housing and modern plumbing for everybody. (Mr. Pobbles made a mental note to get rid of his stock in building material companies before giving this order.) He would have all the gypsy moths and Japanese beetles and potato bug destroyed, and he might even get around to wiping out the boll weevil and the mosquito. Apparently the djinn could do anything and he might as well be set to work for the benefit of humanity. Once again Mr. Pobbles' conscience became positively incandescent.
   There was a man waiting on the front porch. He wore an almost white hat with a snap brim and a narrow black band, so Mr. Pobbles knew that he was a Federal officer.
   "Mr. Pobbles?" asked the man.
   Mr. Pobbles admitted it.
   "The boys who picked you up the other night mentioned seeing a newly-opened case of Duke of Argyll Scotch in your house. Mind if I look at it?"
   "Not at all," said Mr. Pobbles. He opened the door. "Right through there," he said.
   The Federal man went into the den and came out with a bottle which he held up to the light. "Just as I thought," he said, "faked labels and revenue stamps. Where'd you get this whisky?"

Saving...

approval. Accordingly, I took a vacation. My double has been taking my place before the cameras." There was a sensation in the court room. "On my way East," continued Miss Laselle, "I stopped off to say how-de-do to my old friend Oscar Pobbles, with whom I used to go to college -- I mean that I met him when he came back for a reunion when I was there. So now I think that you ought to release Mr. Pobbles and apologize to him and I think that Mr. Pobbles should collect a little piece of change by suing Mr. Galeano for false arrest." "But what happened to your double?" asked Mr. Cassidy. "How do I know what happened to my double?" asked Miss Laselle. "Case dismissed," said Mr. Cassidy. Mr. Laselle kissed Mr. Pobbles. Then she kissed Mr. Pobbles several times more, so that the camermen and the newsreel men could get it. Finally M. Pobbles wiped off the lipstick, and walked home with Mrs. Pobbles. At first they didn't say much. Mr. Pobbles was darned if he was going to apologize, because if Mrs. Pobbles hadn't taken the Duke of Argyll Scotch none of this would have happened. But everybody stopped him and congratulated him and he began to see that his reputation hadn't been hurt even a bit by what had happened. "A gay dog, that Pobbles!" the men were saying to each other, and the ladies were looking at him with more interested eyes. After all, a man who could attract a famous beauty like Betty Laselle must be pretty Big Time. He unbent a little. "If I've been to blame, dear," he said, "I'm sorry. Suppose we forget the whole business." "Of course, dear," said Mrs. Pobbles. She walked two or three steps. "But what I want to know, dear, is how we got on top of the church and how that woman got into your den and what about that fat little man who was asleep in the corner." "Let's forget the whole business," said Mr. Pobbles. "There are certain things that I prefer not to discuss." "Yes, dear," said Mrs. Pobbles. She took at least three more steps before she said. "But...." again. She went on from there. Mr. Pobbles paid no attention. He was thinking. What a selfish fellow he had been, he reflected, to have used the great power of the lamp only to satisfy his own desires. From now on it would be different. He would have the djinn remove every weapon of war from German or Japanese hands and sink them in the deepest part of the sea. He would clear the slums, have adequate housing and modern plumbing for everybody. (Mr. Pobbles made a mental note to get rid of his stock in building material companies before giving this order.) He would have all the gypsy moths and Japanese beetles and potato bug destroyed, and he might even get around to wiping out the boll weevil and the mosquito. Apparently the djinn could do anything and he might as well be set to work for the benefit of humanity. Once again Mr. Pobbles' conscience became positively incandescent. There was a man waiting on the front porch. He wore an almost white hat with a snap brim and a narrow black band, so Mr. Pobbles knew that he was a Federal officer. "Mr. Pobbles?" asked the man. Mr. Pobbles admitted it. "The boys who picked you up the other night mentioned seeing a newly-opened case of Duke of Argyll Scotch in your house. Mind if I look at it?" "Not at all," said Mr. Pobbles. He opened the door. "Right through there," he said. The Federal man went into the den and came out with a bottle which he held up to the light. "Just as I thought," he said, "faked labels and revenue stamps. Where'd you get this whisky?"