The Project Gutenberg EBook of Death of a B.E.M., by Berkeley Livingston
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net
Title: Death of a B.E.M.
Author: Berkeley Livingston
Release Date: June 7, 2010 [EBook #32726]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DEATH OF A B.E.M. ***
Produced by Greg Weeks and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced from Amazing Stories October 1948.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.
copyright on this publication was renewed.
[Illustration: The B. E. M. purred contentedly as the giant stroked his
eyeballs]
DEATH OF A B. E. M.
by BERKELEY LIVINGSTON
The writer hated to create bug-eyed monsters, but they hated him
too!
"Blast them!" the writer groaned in bitter accents. "How I hate those
B. E. M's.!"
"Hang them!" the artist yelled. "How I hate those B. E. M's.!"
"Darn them!" the B. E. M. moaned. "How I hate those humans!"
* * * * *
The artist and the writer sat staring at each other in wordless
misery, their coffee untasted and their spirits at low ebb. Up above,
in the beehive that was the publishing house which gave them their
livelihood, the word had gone around. _B. E. M'S, B. E. M'S...._
Sadly, in accents forlorn, the writer said:
"Bug-eyed monsters! Ye gads! Bug-eyed monsters! Jack, old boy, do you
realize we're setting science-fiction back a hundred years?"
"I know just how you feel, Harry," the artist replied. "After all, we
too had presumed that we had been freed of these monsters. So back we
go to the drawing board, our minds tortured and twisted ..." He sighed
disconsolately.
"Oh, well," the writer sighed and blew out his breath. He stared
fixedly at his coffee until a something blue slipped into focus. His
glance traveled upward from the hem of the girl's apron, past the
lovely swell of her charms and on past the sweet throat, to the gay,
smiling face and sparkling eyes. Forgotten then were B. E. M's. for
both. Diane, the goddess of the restaurant corps of enchanting
|