You know, I was about to write about seagulls, and then I checked my mail and found this piece of spam, and I think I'm going to copy 'n paste it and burn the fucker into your eyeballs.
1943: BERCHTESGADENHitler gasped f or air. His left ha nd held a g l ass jar over the head
of his penis. His body suddenly spasmed against the plush of the
soft leather couch.
Aprimeval scream p ar tially suppressed
through clenched teeth resounded through the room. The sound
was deadened by the rich tapestries th
at covered the walls of
the se m i-dark office.Still breathing heavily, the leader of the Third Reich held the jar
up t o a light and studied the sticky substance s lowly sliding
the insides of the container. He stood, screwed the cap into
place and set the jar on his desk next to the u
photographs of nude women in various provocative poses. He
fo r ced his still semi-erect penis into his pants and buttoned
his fly.He looke
ddown to see if his clothes were in proper array.
atisfie d , he bent over and pic ked up the pictur e of his mother
t hat had fallen f r om his lap during t
he final moment of ecstasy.
He s l id the picture into the inside breast pocket of his
making sure it was deeply seated. H e
then pressed a buzzer
and left the room.Moments later, Colonel Ludwig Schmidt, wearing the uniform
of the elite SS guard, enter e d and gathered the photograp
He placed th e m in an envelope that had been lying on the desk.
The e nv elope wa s marked &
quot;TOP S ECRET" in bol dred letters
across its front and back. The Colonel then to
ok the jar and
placed it in an insulated steel cased box packed with dry ice.
He closed the cover and secured it with a heavy brass lock.Fro
mhis pocket he removed a small candle and cigarette lighter.
After lighting the candle he held it so that the
hot wax dripped
into the keyhole and the surrounding area of the lock. He then
pressed the face of a signet ring he was wearing against the still
soft wax. He then left the room taking the envelope and the box
with him.;THE BERMUDA TRIANGLE, ONE YEAR L A TER& n bsp;The submarine's periscope cleaved the warm waters of the
Caribbean Sea exposing no more than two feet of camouflaged
metal above the lapping waves. It slowly rotated, scanning the
horizon through the splash ca used by the mild tropical winds.
The b r ight moonlight ma d e the lone freighter on the horizon
stand out in bold silhouette."Down periscope,"
the Captain said, smartly folding the handle
bars. He turned to the young blond militarily erect man dressed
in ordinary seaman's clothes and said, "Come
let us go t
omy quarters and go over the plans for tra nsferring
the pers o nnel to the freighter." Sitting at the steel planning desk in the cramped quarters the
Captain faced the Colonel and said, "It i s no secret the war is
going badly. The Allies are dominat
ing the sea lanes and I have
grave doubts about my ability to get this sub and its crew back
to the Fatherland. It is one thing to die for the Fuhrer in battle;
it is quite another to play nursemaid to a dozen pregnant women.
Can you not tell me as officer to officer what this is all about?I promise y
ou the informati on will go no furthe rthan within this
room. It would make our fate more bearable if I knew the
sacrifice was of consequential importance." The Colonel studied
the su b marine's Captain across the desk before ans w ering.
"The twelve women are pregnant with the Fuhrer's children."
The Captain sat dumbfounded. Finally he said, "Gottimhimmel!
How is it possible? All twelve? W hy are they on this U-boat?
What is this a
ll about ?& quo t; As he starte d to speak, the Colo n el's
voice ros e from low key to a hysterical crescendo
observed, Captain, the war is going badly. Our Fuhrer is a
brilliant man. He sees far beyond the immediacy of today's
b a ttles—won or lost.He p l ans only for the u l timate domination of> this globe by p u re
Aryans. The twelve women represent the best of German
womanhood, each the purest Aryan. Each selected for breeding
qualities of he
alth and intelligence. Each from families that bore
predominantly male offspring.
“Through th e use of eugenic s e lection and artificial insemination
it is the Fuhrer's plan to father a child in his own image.
A c hild who would possess his genius and deter m ination.
That child will be raised in America and ultimately rise to a
position of pow e r. In America he will plant the seeds that will
mature into the
Fourth Reich. He will become—The American Fuhrer.
That is quite possibly the best piece of spam I've ever had the misfortune to receive. Why couldn't it have arrived before the close of the Weird Tales Spam Fiction Contest? Now I'm going to inebriate myself and do the dishes. Love you / air kiss.