Tarzan and the Water Closets
By John Martin

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"Hey, you big ape!

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  Although Jane had endured the dangers of Africa, she was still not quite familiar with all of the subtleties of the flora and fauna, so Lord Greystoke took her to the London Zoo to better acquaint her with African animals.
  Jane had drank a lot of coffee before they left so it wasn't too long after they arrived until she had to use the public restroom. She saw the two doors with pictures of great cats on them and asked her husband, "Which one is the women's?"
  Tarzan replied graciously, "You see that one of the lions has a mane? That's the male. So use the other one."
  It wasn't but a half an hour later when Jane felt the urge again, and this time they were in another part of the zoo when Jane saw two restroom doors, one with a large elephant and one with a smaller one. "I bet I can tell the difference this time," said Jane. "The one with the smaller elephant is for females."
  Tarzan smiled proudly. "You're learning, Jane," he said. "Enjoy your visit."
  It was a bit later, after lunch at the hotdog stand, when Jane felt the need to make another head call. This time she found two restroom doors with pictures of apes on them and, in every way, they seemed identical.
  "John," she said. "You're an expert on the mangani. How do I tell these apart?"
  "Oh," replied the ape-man. "For these you have to open the restroom door and look inside. The ones where the toilet seats are still up are for the bulls."

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Tarzan Relives the Past

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  Tarzan missed the good old days.
  He missed the fun that he and Jane had when they were first hitched, cavorting in the jungle with Cheeta and Nkima and often spending time splashing around in the Black Lagoon. It wasn't really black, of course, but it looked that way in the black and white film with which the Hollywood moviemakers recorded them when they visited them for periodic shoots.
  Tarzan was never sure if they were more interested in him, or in Jane in that skimpy outfit, or when she wasn't wearing that outfit at all!
  He recalled the fun of grabbing her from behind when she least expected it and either pushing her into the cold water or holding her in his arms while he himself jumped in.
  She would always give out with a yelp and scream through her chattering teeth: "Tarzan! That water's so-o-o-o-o-o c-c-c-cold."
  But now life had settled down to a daily routine at Greystoke Manor. There was the farm to manage, the Waziri men to palaver with in the long house, and the little "honeydew" jobs that Jane seemed to have a talent for discovering around the bungalow.
  Now, instead of dips in the jungle pool, there was usually only time for showers. Thanks to the gold he had looted from Opar, Tarzan had been able to have a well professionally dug and a pumphouse to feed the modern plumbing. The waterwheel in the nearby stream provided enough electricity to activate the hot water tank.
  As he mused, Tarzan could hear the sound of the shower as it drummed on the metal sides of the shower stall and splattered against the plastic shower curtain. Jane was in there performing her daily ablutions.
  The shower!
  Tarzan's face lit up.
  Why had he not thought of it before?
  A broad grin flashed across his face and he leaped to his feet and strode, lightly as a great cat, to the bathroom. He opened the door and stepped inside, his grin broadening as he saw Jane's silhouette inside the curtain.
  Good. He was in time.
  "Jane!" he called. "It's me! I have a little surprise for you."
  So saying, Tarzan reached across the sink and turned on the gold-plated spigot labeled "Hot," knowing the effect the changing water flow would have on the shower pipes.
  "Eeeek! Tarzan!" she yelped. "The water's so-o-o-o-o-o-o c-c-c-cold!"
  Ah, just like the good old days.

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The Wrath of La

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  La loved the new bathroom that Tarzan had provided for her.
  When Tarzan reached the point in time when he was welcomed to Opar by La, and grudgingly accepted by the men, he was able to stay for longer visits and, on one of those occasions, he had asked to use the bathroom.
  Tarzan was directed down a hall and was disgusted at what he found there. To say the Opar bathrooms were primitive was an understatement. The urinals were mere holes in the rock floor and the area leading up to them was liberally decorated with puddles of urine left by those who weren't quite able to make it. This posed a challenge for the barefooted apeman in even getting close enough to the proper receptacles.
  That's when he decided that La, at least, needed a decent bathroom.
  And it was also true that Tarzan felt just a bit guilty at all the gold he had taken from the city's secret vaults over the years, even though the Oparians were ignorant of the existence of any treasure, and unequipped to properly handle it.
  So it made Tarzan feel better to spend some of his riches, thus gained, on making things a bit nicer, and more sanitary, for the high priestess of the city.
  Tarzan paid for new plumbing fixtures, a proper septic tank and drainfield, and brought in the Waziri, who had received correspondence course training on how to do the plumbing and paneling and other grunt work.
  Tarzan had thought that La might appreciate a bathroom decorated in a teal and coral motif, but, when La looked through the catalog of colored fixtures, she went right for the red and black.
  Tarzan donated gold ingots to be melted down for the fixtures in the sink, tub-shower and for the flush handle on the toilet.
  At last the bathroom was finished, and Tarzan, always the proper British gentleman, brought Jane in to instruct La in the proper use of each apparatus.
  Twice a year, Tarzan sent in the Waziri to drain the septic tank, put new washers in the fixtures and make sure the toilet wouldn't run when it was flushed. He also paid for new shipments of soap and soft-textured toilet paper.
  But there was only so much Tarzan could do without staying at Opar 24/7, and one day La stormed out of the bathroom fuming with rage.
  "Where is he?" she shouted. "Where's Budj?"
  Budj was the latest in a long line of high priests and, as a courtesy, La extended bathroom privileges to whoever was the current holder of that rank. Usually, the high priests didn't last too long at Opar, so she was regularly training new officeholders in the proper use of the bathroom.
  Oparians scattered in fright as La stormed down a corridor, screaming at the top of her lungs while drawing the jeweled sacrifical knife from her belt. "I'll kill him! I'll kill him!"
  At last she reached the altar and noted, with satisfaction, that the sun was just minutes away from reaching its zenith, its rays streaming through the roof opening at a steep angle.
  Budj was over by the altar, conferring with a couple of fellow priests.
  "Seize him!" shouted La, pointing her finger of fate toward the doomed Budj, while she noted with satisfaction the stupid grin dropping from his mouth full of half-rotted and missing teeth.
  "Bind him to the altar. The sun god awaits his sacrifice."
  Others began streaming into the sacrificial chamber, realizing that La had now found an outlet for her anger.
  She approached Budj, who squirmed helplessly in his bonds, a look of complete bafflement below his sloping forehead.
  "La...." he moaned. "La....why?.......why?"
  "Silence, defiler!" she seethed, plunging the knife down at full throttle. "If I've told you once, I've told you a hundred times: Put the seat down when you're done!!"

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John Martin
EDGARDEMAIN: Celebrating the literary legerdemain of Edgar Rice Burroughs

PRINCE VALIANT
Vol. 10: 1955-1556

The tenth volume in this series finds our band of heroes making their way back to the Kingdom of Thule by way of Constantinople and Eastern Russia.

Soon they are attacked by a tribe of barbarians who kidnap Aleta for the great Dragada Khan who wants to make her one of his wives. 

After nearly being killed in battle, Valiant returns to his homeland only to find the threat of hunger hovers over Thule. 

As Val explores new ways of feeding the kingdom's growing populace, raiders threaten the lives of his family and friends. 

The volume ends with Val's return to Camelot, a tournament of champions, and the threat of new treachery in Cornwall. 

This volume also includes an introduction by legendary comics artist Timothy Truman, and a special gallery containing more of Hal Foster's incredible Mountie paintings annotated by comics historian Brian M. Kane.

http://www.amazon.ca/gp/product/1606998005/

Edgar Rice Burroughs: The Master of Pulp Storytelling

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The editor and the contributing authors to Edgar Rice Burroughs: The Master of Pulp Storytelling are proud to announce that this new anthology went on sale on May 15, 2015 in both print and Kindle at Amazon.com. (A link to both can be found on the home page at erbgraphics.com.) The book was edited by Charles A. Madison of erbgraphics.com, and the foreword is written by John "Bridge" Martin, noted überfan* and Burroughs scholar. The contributors include critics, scholars and fans of Edgar Rice Burroughs, the writer who popularized the planetary romance and kick-started modern SF: Patrick H. Adkins, David Critchfield, J. G. Huckenpöhler, Charles A. Madison, John Flint Roy, Suzannah Rowntree, Abraham Sherman, Den Valdron, John C. Wright, and Robert B. Zeuschner. Together their essays and articles survey the impact and influence of Burroughs on science fiction writing and film.

While I am happy that the book is on sale, I'm also saddened by the recent passing of Patrick Adkins, Burroughs scholar and science-fiction author, who made his journey down the River Iss in April 2015 while this book, which he is so much a part of, was in the process of proof review. I already miss his wit and wise counsel about Burroughsania, science fiction and the craft of preparing, editing, and formatting a book, and I'll miss his beautiful, very stylish writing.

http://www.amazon.com/Edgar-Rice-Burroughs-Master-Storytelling/dp/1511941138/

About Mario I am a resident of NW Connecticut.
I was mostly a Tarzan reader, the novels and comics, and a late comer to John Carter and the other ERB works.
Although for the last few years I have been concentrating on writing songs and publishing my novel, The Goddess of Pigland,
I worked as an illustrator, graphic and fine artist for many years.
More recently I have started a working on a comic book based on HeroSaga, a universe remix
that includes all the fictional hero and villain archetypes that I found inspirational as a media consumer.
Pulp Heroes
Miniature Game Related ~ II