Pulp Fiction, 1955 · page 74 of 146
Argosy: The Short Story Magazine — page 74: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1955. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
eet aod - c © os V ’ : ‘ ‘ . ye : “? s ee as» bie anu bee : e 5 qj ¥ ; ry a q " sae 3 in - as La 4 -",* Ter a Sm “J +s re P LJ >. * Me! ~~ o 4 >’. A ® “ > * i » > ary r, “) > —_— - . . 4 ? ys a _ 1. S \*= es : . . * . yen - - rh es , / to . : > : ‘ * * 4 Je ¥ KNOW a little restaurant Behind a brownstone stoop Where potage du jour is French For a can of onion soup. You order a Martini without an olive in it; They bring you a Martini, it has an olive in it. Throw the olive on the floor, ‘Lhat’s what the floor is for. The tables teem with ladies ‘Tuned up by Mistress Arden, And Muzak fills the air With “‘ In a Persian Garden.”’ You order legs of frog, and please omit the garlic; They bring you legs of frog, all redolent of garlic. Throw the frogs’ legs on the floor, That’s what the floor is for. a waa The Daiquiris are flowing Before the meal and after; The smoke from fifty filter tips Is shaken by the Schraffter. You ask them for an ashtray, a receptacle for ashes; ‘They do not bring an ashtray, instead they bring a menu. Throw the ashes on the floor, | That’s what the floor is for. I know a little restaurant Where client and agent grapple, Where ananas au kirsch Is French for canned pineapple. You ask them for the check, for /’addition, for the bill; They do not bring the check, they bring another menu. Throw the menu on the floor, Walk quickly through the door, That’s what the door is for. OcpEN Nasu, Try it Suns. and Hols., it’s closed then ee comicbooks.c corm