It was a dark and stormy night. I was trying to wrap myself round a bottle of bourbon while browsing TMP when this dame walks into my computer. She called herself 'Pulp Girl' and said she had a story to tell me, lots of stories in fact. Tales of adventure and betrayal and I was hooked. Her mid-western drawl had me mesmerised as she weaved her tales of adventurers and villains, like Singapore Smith, Dr Phlebo and Captain Wolf, following them as they criss-crossed the world from the darkest jungles to the back alleys of Marrakesh always searching for that big score. Her tales were so vivid it was like I was there watching the action as it happened, her narration providing a counterpoint to the dance of death unfolding before my eyes.
When she was done I wanted in. 'Easy' she said, 'Just give me $9.99 and you can enter a world of extrordinary action and adventure.' I had my wallet open and before I knew it she was gone with my money. A mysterious package on my desk and the heady scent of her perfume following her out into the darkness. What had I gotten myself into? Only time would tell.
Pulp Alley and Pulp Girl's Tales.
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