The Great Automatic Grammatizator and Other Stories Read online

  ‘It’s marvellous!’ George shouted. ‘It’s terrific!’

  ‘We shall be rich,’ I told him. ‘We shall be exceedingly wealthy in no time at all.’

  ‘We must start at once!’

  I jumped out of bed, fetched a writing-pad and a pencil and ran back to bed again. ‘Now,’ I said, pulling my knees under the blankets and propping the writing-pad against them, ‘the first thing is to decide what we’re going to say on the printed cards which we’ll be sending to our clients,’ and I wrote, ‘VENGEANCE IS MINE INC.’ as a heading on the top of the sheet of paper. Then, with much care, I composed a finely phrased letter explaining the functions of the organization. It finished up with the following sentence: ‘Therefore VENGEANCE IS MINE INC. will undertake, on your behalf and in absolute confidence, to administer suitable punishment to columnist ........ and in this regard we respectfully submit to you a choice of methods (together with prices) for your consideration.’

  ‘What do you mean, “a choice of methods”?’ George said.

  ‘We must give them a choice. We must think up a number of things … a number of different punishments. Number one will be …’ and I wrote down, ‘1. Punch him on the nose, once, hard.’ ‘What shall we charge for that?’

  ‘Five hundred dollars,’ George said instantly.

  I wrote it down. ‘What’s the next one?’

  ‘Black his eye,’ George said.

  I wrote it down, ‘2. Black his eye … $500.’

  ‘No!’ George said. ‘I disagree with the price. It definitely requires more skill and timing to black an eye nicely than to punch a nose. It is a skilled job. It should be six hundred.’

  ‘OK,’ I said. ‘Six hundred. And what’s the next one?’

  ‘Both together, of course. The old one two.’ We were in George’s territory now. This was right up his street.

  ‘Both together?’

  ‘Absolutely. Punch his nose and black his eye. Eleven hundred dollars.’

  ‘There should be a reduction for taking the two,’ I said. ‘We’ll make it a thousand.’

  ‘It’s dirt cheap,’ George said. ‘They’ll snap it up.’

  ‘What’s next?’

  We were both silent now, concentrating fiercely. Three deep parallel grooves of skin appeared upon George’s rather low sloping forehead. He began to scratch his scalp, slowly but very strongly. I looked away and tried to think of all the terrible things which people had done to other people. Finally, I got one, and with George watching the point of my pencil moving over the paper, I wrote: ‘4. Put a rattlesnake (with venom extracted) on the floor of his car, by the pedals, when he parks it.’

  ‘Jesus Christ!’ George whispered. ‘You want to kill him with fright!’

  ‘Sure,’ I said.

  ‘And where’d you get a rattlesnake, anyway?’

  ‘Buy it. You can always buy them. How much shall we charge for that one?’

  ‘Fifteen hundred dollars,’ George said firmly. I wrote it down.

  ‘Now we need one more.’

  ‘Here it is,’ George said. ‘Kidnap him in a car, take all his clothes away except his underpants and his shoes and socks, then dump him out on Fifth Avenue in the rush hour.’ He smiled, a broad triumphant smile.

  ‘We can’t do that.’

  ‘Write it down. And charge two thousand five hundred bucks. You’d do it all right if old Womberg were to offer you that much.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I suppose I would.’ And I wrote it down. ‘That’s enough now,’ I added. ‘That gives them a wide choice.’

  ‘And where will we get the cards printed?’ George asked.

  ‘George Karnoffsky,’ I said. ‘Another George. He’s a friend of mine. Runs a small printing shop down on Third Avenue. Does wedding invitations and things like that for all the big stores. He’ll do it. I know he will.’

  ‘Then what are we waiting for?’

  We both leapt out of bed and began to dress. ‘It’s twelve o’clock,’ I said. ‘If we hurry we’ll catch him before he goes to lunch.’

  It was still snowing when we went out into the street and the snow was four or five inches thick on the sidewalk, but we covered the fourteen blocks to Karnoffsky’s shop at a tremendous pace and we arrived there just as he was putting his coat on to go out.

  ‘Claude!’ he shouted. ‘Hi, boy! How you been keeping?’ and he pumped my hand. He had a fat friendly face and a terrible nose with great wide-open nose-wings which overlapped his cheeks by at least an inch on either side. I greeted him and told him that we had come to discuss some most urgent business. He took off his coat and led us back into the office, then I began to tell him our plans and what we wanted him to do.

  When I’d got about quarter way through my story, he started to roar with laughter and it was impossible for me to continue; so I cut it short and handed him the piece of paper with the stuff on it that we wanted him to print. And now, as he read it, his whole body began to shake with laughter and he kept slapping the desk with his hand and coughing and choking and roaring like someone crazy. We sat watching him. We didn’t see anything particular to laugh about.

  Finally he quietened down and he took out a handkerchief and made a great business about wiping his eyes. ‘Never laughed so much,’ he said weakly. ‘That’s a great joke, that is. It’s worth a lunch. Come on out and I’ll give you lunch.’

  ‘Look,’ I said severely, ‘this isn’t any joke. There is nothing to laugh at. You are witnessing the birth of a new and powerful organization …’

  ‘Come on,’ he said and he began to laugh again. ‘Come on and have lunch.’

  ‘When can you get those cards printed?’ I said. My voice was stern and businesslike.

  He paused and stared at us. ‘You mean … you really mean … you’re serious about this thing?’

  ‘Absolutely. You are witnessing the birth …’

  ‘All right,’ he said, ‘all right.’ He stood up. ‘I think you’re crazy and you’ll get in trouble. Those boys like messing other people about, but they don’t much fancy being messed about themselves.’

  ‘When can you get them printed, and without any of your workers reading them?’

  ‘For this,’ he answered gravely, ‘I will give up my lunch. I will set the type myself. It is the least I can do.’ He laughed again and the rims of his huge nostrils twitched with pleasure. ‘How many do you want?’

  ‘A thousand – to start with – and envelopes.’

  ‘Come back at two o’clock,’ he said and I thanked him very much and as we went out we could hear his laughter rumbling down the passage into the back of the shop.

  At exactly two o’clock we were back. George Karnoffsky was in his office and the first thing I saw as we went in was the high stack of printed cards on his desk in front of him. They were large cards, about twice the size of ordinary wedding or cocktail invitation-cards. ‘There you are,’ he said. ‘All ready for you.’ The fool was still laughing.

  He handed us each a card and I examined mine carefully. It was a beautiful thing. He had obviously taken much trouble over it. The card itself was thick and stiff with narrow gold edging all the way around, and the letters of the heading were exceedingly elegant. I cannot reproduce it here in all its splendour, but I can at least show you how it read:

  VENGEANCE IS MINE INC.

  Dear ....................

  You have probably seen columnist ....................’s slanderous and unprovoked attack upon your character in today’s paper. It is an outrageous insinuation, a deliberate distortion of the truth.

  Are you yourself prepared to allow this miserable malice-monger to insult you in this manner?

  The whole world knows that it is foreign to the nature of the American people to permit themselves to be insulted either in public or in private without rising up in righteous indignation and demanding – nay, exacting – a just measure of retribution.

  On the other hand, it is only natural that a citizen of your sta