CAUTION! S.F.W.

Dog Buns

Having created an hilarious title, I now have to come up with an Intro that fully justifies it.  Perhaps going and making some tea in the kitchen will help inspire me.  Or, perhaps, a trough or two of gin and tonic might also inspire.   Yes yes yes I've said I don't really like it, I'm creating a poetic conceit, not sticking to the unfettered truth.  Unfettered truth?  If you were after that then you are in the wrong desert on the wrong planet.  In fact you are probably over in the Andromeda Galaxy.  Say hi to the Wirrn for me.

     ANYWAY I think we need to deploy the forces of pulp magazine covers once more, to generate a little random unpredictability.  Art!

Ever so SFW

     Quite a busy cover, hmmmmm?  

      Erk.  Playing random i-pod tracks and the haunting "Refugees" by Van Der Graaf Generator just came on O the hideous irony -

      This cover is obviously adhering to the classic magazine trope of under-clad young lady in peril, being protected by a macho specimen of masculinity.  Except I'm not sure why he's wearing a helmet and spacesuit and she isn't; perhaps this is a subtle attempt to subvert the genre by hinting she's far more robust than he is, the poor pathetic pansy?

     Except no, because look at the fumes from that weapon, which move as they would in an atmosphere, except no AGAIN because wind resistance in an atmosphere would have rendered our lovely young thing - ah - deshabille.  As the French say.

     Not only that, their rocket-sled is peculiarly badly designed.  Matey here is blasting away at a Mysterious Foe, you can only agree with wise old Conrad here.  Yet the engine controls are at the other end of the sled, meaning to fly it free of any Mysterious Foe you'd have to sit facing backwards looking back over your shoulder.

     Aha!  Let me explicate a little further.  Art!

     So - this is an escape rocket-sled.  Unless that exploding rocket ship is doing so because either or both of our space-Adam-and-Eve sabotaged it?  Hmmmmm you know that might be a working hypothesis, since NOBODY ELSE survived.

     Thus is this young lady the "Cargo To Callisto" - or the other half of "The Last Two Alive"?  I fear you will never know*.

     Of course, I could be overthinking this ...

EGAD!  Thank Heavens For Armoured Underwear**

I have recounted how random i-pod tracks above delivered a poignant result.  Well NOW - Art?

    Lest you be unaware, this is what the Sinisters used to play during regime change, usually when one of their elderly dictators choked it on a stuffed mushroom or accidentally walked in front of a firing range.  Which is also the tune radio station Ekhov Moskvy played as they shut down, and we're looking at Poutine here, very sharply.

     Phew.  Now it's "Bagpipe" classics.  No possible Coincidence Hydra attacks.  Unless there's a traditional Scottish reel called "Dancing On The Tsar Of Russia's Tomb"

     Moving swiftly on -

"Chaliapin"

Another product of the maleficent partnership of Steve and Oscar.  Conrad had a vague sense that this was a Ruffian, and no more than that.  A quick Googling reveals that I probably meant Feodor Chaliapin Junior, whom most of you would know as the horrid old monk in "The Name Of The Rose".  Art!

     Rather a mirror-cracker.  He was an interesting character, being born in Ruffia pre-Bolshevik Revolution, and growing up in the shadow of his famous father, Feodor Chaliapin Senior.  He left to find his fortune in both Hollywood and Italy, and you might also remember him from "Moonstruck" as well.  Art!

     A little less mirror-cracking.  The film is a complete swizz, by the way, as the Moon does not blow up or crash into anything.  Instead it seems to be a romantic comedy starring Char and Nicholas Rage.  I think.  It's been a while.  And Feodor!  He was in tons of Italian stuff, which is to be expected as he lived there and if Cinecitti needed a gruff-looking bloke with a strange accent, there he was.  Art!

"Roma" with Fellini wielding the knife

And Now For A Bit Of Supernatural Suspense

Yes, "Tormentor" again, because not a single person has complained in the Comments, which of course - obviously! - means everyone loves it.

‘Then you also need an article of defence in every room, perhaps a copy of the Bible.  As I told you, a collection of small silver artefacts would also suit the job.  If one of the minor spirits has failed to exterminate you, Louis, their next step might be to use a human proxy.’

               Yawning with the after-reaction to his near-fatal encounter, Louis nodded and clambered beneath the sheets.

               ‘Oh, I do beg your pardon.  Would you like one of my circle to stay and keep watch over you until morning?’

               ‘No!’ said Louis, with feeling.  Having a spirit of any kind lurk in his bedroom whilst he slept there would stop him from ever getting to sleep in the first place.  ‘No, thanks for offering.’

               ‘Adieu,’ said the Professor, and vanished.

               Having the lights on made sleep difficult for Louis.  Eventually it came, with repeated nightmare images of that taloned claw suddenly reaching for his throat, of trying to run and only managing a slow-motion lurch, and not finding his bracelet.

 After college the next day, Louis went to the supermarket before heading home.  Using deduction, he intended to create a few weapons of his own, of a sort that spirits like Morgan wouldn’t be familiar with.

               There was a jewellers on the precinct near the supermarket, and that was his next port of call.

               ‘Silver balls the size of a marble?’ queried the trendy blonde girl behind the counter.  ‘No, we’d have to have them specially crafted.  Expensive.’

               Louis left them his number and asked for a quote once they’d worked out what the price should be.  No doubt they’d try to chisel him for hundreds, but his life mattered more than a decent bank balance at present.

             Notice how I don't provide any details of what the painting task is.  I'm sly that way.  Will it come into play later on?  You'll just have to keep on reading and find out.

Finally -

You should surely recall that we featured another pulp magazine cover on Sunday as click-bait, giving a thorough analysis, before confessing that I'd no idea who or what "The Phantom Detective" was or wasn't.  Art!

     Of course a pedantic hair-splitter like Your Humble Scribe couldn't leave it like that, so I did a bit of digging and what do you know, TPD was one of the original pulp magazines to come out back in the Thirties in South Canada, pipped to the post by "The Shadow" by a few months.  The titular character is a wealthy international playboy who finds a life of excitement as a fighter ace in the First Unpleasantness, one Richard Curtis Van Loan.  Bored in peacetime, he becomes a master detective, respected by law enforcement all around the world, hiding his true identity behind a mask.  Definitely an influence on Batman, as several of the TPD writers learned their craft there before moving onto the Caped Crusader.  Art!

     And with that, Vulnavia, we are done.

*  I know exactly what but Conrad's not telling.  I'm horrid that way.

**  For it protects from the fangs of the Coincidence Hydra