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Snide, issue 2, February 1941

Page 15

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returned. [Ghee?], thanks Will resume tomorrow, when the sun-mirror has recharged my batteries. Oompty-Oompth Day. To tell you practically all of the story of the last five years, I'll go back to the day Stilson croaked. To relieve the monotony, we had all been partaking of liquid refreshment. One day, Stilson dashed into the ship, shouting. We dived for cover as he tore round and round, screaming something about green goolies with big red ears. Then he staggered slightly, stopped, smiled gently, and battered his brains out against the wall. After vainly attempting to bring Stilson to life by intraveneous injection of red pop, we took him outside and dumped him over the cliff. Jovian hooch had taken its third life from our original ten. Hiccoughing fearfully, we looked at each other. Each of us secretly hoped that he would not be the next. So far had horror brought us. In desperation, we plunged once more into scientific research. Parkers devised a system of telling time by the opening and closing of the pores on Ginerton's left foot. This was a great help, as we could now use our watches to crack nuts. Ginerton, during the long hours when he had to hold his left foot in the air for Parkers to tell time by, pored intensely over a cryptic diagram. He was trying to discover a three-letter word beginning with 's', meaning the juice of a tree. Once he pored so intensely that he held his right foot up instead, and poor Parkers got confused and lost a day. We didn't care: it wasn't much of a day, anyway. [Barnay?] made what may prove to be a valu[able?] [discovery]. Experimenting with metals from
 
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