Pulp Fiction, 1938 · page 93 of 116
10-Story Detective Magazine Cover — page 93: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page Analysis: "Celluloid Noose" This is an interior story page (page 91) from a pulp magazine, featuring both an illustration and prose text. The illustration shows two men in what appears to be a violent confrontation or chase scene. The text describes a criminal escape involving getaway cars, police pursuit, and gunfire. The narrator recounts how criminals fled a film set with stolen money while being chased by police cars, with shooting occurring between the vehicles. One character named Hammy fires a tommy-gun from their car while others return fire, eventually disabling the pursuing police vehicles. The story appears to be a hardboiled crime narrative, though the "Celluloid Noose" title suggests possible film industry involvement.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
——_—__—__—_—_—___-———CELLULOID NOOSE——————————_—_9 my right, were still taking it all in as though they were comfortably parked in Grauman’s Chinese Theater during a thirty-five cent matinee. Even when the screeching of sirens announced the coming of police cars, they didn’t catch on. Jeez, you sure can fool all of the people some of the time! Somehow, by some miracle, we got into the cars with the money and got started down the street. Kroll and his bunch in the first limousine and the sound truck next. I could see Shorty up in that crane. He was vomiting his heart out, and even from where I was in the limousine following the truck, I could see that his face was as green as a shamrock leaf. I wondered how much of this horrible shambles he had been able to record on his film be- fore he turned sick. Two police cars were following us, pumping lead at the back of our car. Hammy stuck a fresh clip in his Tommy-gun, knocked the glass out of the back window and returned the fire. One of the other boys was shoot- ing out the side. We took corners on two wheels, missing other cars by a hair’s breadth. It seemed to me to be only a ques- tion of seconds before our tires would be shot away, and I was right. But our shots got home to the police cars, too, sending one careening into a lamp post and stopping the other dead in its tracks. Some one in the sound truck saw our car jerk to a stop, saw aegult a avs vf) PAPC AW ian igl ARO MVR EL |) dy rei er Yar 7iy ~ comicboo (S.CO Sees —— =...