what artist could he be in the end, > trying to outlast green underpants?
what a great line. i've got a bagged edition of I think Fu Manchu's Daughter if you want it. Send me your snail and its yours if I can find it. if not, thx for the cheering upness. gave me a "snortle"? lanny > abject thunder mixed with cruel warnings spell Fu Manchu in green > underpants. this is dismal, saith Fu Manchu. the green is less than > green of eyes, or the speed with which lightning dots out eyes. green > underpants for the sinister scowling pumping machine in evil's quest. > yet minions abroad allow for no restitution or calm change. well this > must be dealt with, said Fu Manchu implacably, dilating on the terms of > expecting a world at his feet. what artist could he be in the end, > trying to outlast green underpants? suddenly the door flies open. > Nayland-Smith and Petrie, guns in one hand (for both of them) and > electric torches in the other (likewise both). we have found you in your > lair, said Nayland-Smith, with steelly grey eyes determined to see the > thing thru. you see my green underpants! shrieked Fu Manchu, as would > you. keep a bead on him, Petrie, said Nayland-Smith grandly. and so the > thunder and lightning crackled and thumped in the newsy air. fraught > moment lingered... lingered... lingered... (wait for it)... lingered... > trial balloons associated with progress, Bill Gates (self-taught evil) > gtalks to mountains, Nordic skies on a snowy lump of earth.... > inexorable days pass, exorable ones pass, winter turns to spring, spring > exacts blossoms, blossoms make apples... now wait a second, said Fu > Manchu (the enchanter of evil), apples as green as underpants (it makes > him think)... tempus fugit, all by itself... this is England and > civilization to save, barked Nayland-Smith, Mrs Brown you've got a > lovely daughter, hummed Petrie with skittish delight. tall like a piece > of ice, the diabolical doctor shivers. his green underpants are a warren > of self-doubt. can the world be, um, conquered? he wonders in his > weakness. rains lasts until it stops. dank London implementation of > climatic conditions clutter the spellbound. I still have a bead on him, > sputters Petrie. Nayland-Smith fumbles for his pipe. there's dottle in > the bowl, which he expertly removes. dottle, pah! says Nayland-Smith. Dr > Fu Manchu considers the chemical possibilities of dottle mixed with > alchemical wonders, with evil as an antidote to the current situation. > dire wind sounds the same old day. and when the day is done, more news, > more wet news... >
