Read Online The Garden of Unearthly Delights by Robert Rankin - Free Book Online
Authors: Robert Rankin
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SOLVED
And
then he awaited the rush.
And
waiting it still was he.
So far
he had been called upon to solve only two problems. The first being to trace
the whereabouts of a lost dog, the second to seek the cause of blockage in the
town’s latrine. Although hardly grist to the thought-mill of an imagineer and
sadly lacking for chivalrous adventure, Maxwell had accepted both commissions,
working on the ‘great oaks from little acorns grow’ principle.
And he
had been successful in both commissions, hauling, as he did, the corpse of the
lost dog from the sewage outflow pipe.
One
party had defaulted in payment, however.
But the
mayor of the town had paid Maxwell handsomely.
In
parsnips.
The
arrival of the travelling TV had raised Maxwell’s spirits no end, and, as the
Imagineering business was a bit slack, he had taken to viewing the daily
performances. And while so doing, a grandiose scheme had entered his mercurial
mind, which he now felt he should translate into deeds for the benefit of all.
Good
chap.
‘Are
you still here?’ asked the zany. ‘Bugger off, will you?’
‘I have
come to offer you my services,’ said Maxwell. ‘Now that is pleasing to my
ears.’ The zany sliced parsnips into an earthenware casserole. ‘Hitch yourself
to the towing bar and be prepared to pull us out of town once we have eaten.
‘Your
humour is well received.’ Maxwell squatted down beside the zany. ‘But the
services I offer are more cerebral in nature.
‘Who is
this clod?’ asked Dayglo Hilyte, shambling over with a bundle of kindling.
‘This
is Max Carrion, Imagineer,’ explained the zany. ‘He has come to proffer his
services.’
‘Splendid,
then hitch him up to the towing bar.’.
‘Your
servant has already split my sides with that particular witticism,’ said
Maxwell. ‘However, I have a proposition to put to you which I think you will
find most beneficial.’
‘Oh
yes?’ Dayglo raised a pencilled eyebrow. ‘How much will this proposition cost
us?’
‘It is
utterly free of charge. I act through altruism alone.
‘Then
we will be most pleased to hear it.’
Max sat
down on the ground and looked on whilst Dayglo and his zany continued with the
preparation of their bleak repast.
‘It is
regarding this news of yours,’ said Max.
Dayglo
made a proud face beneath his make-up. ‘It is fine news, is it not?’
‘Fine
news indeed, but somewhat out of date.’
‘Out of
date?’ Dayglo puffed his cheeks. ‘How can such fine news ever date?’
‘It
hardly addresses current issues.’
Dayglo
Hilyte laughed. ‘My news is the last news ever to be broadcast upon the
networks before they closed down for ever at the time of the great transition.
This news is the property of my family. It has been handed down from generation
to generation.’
‘So
much I surmised,’ said Max. ‘But I feel that you are somehow missing the point
of what news is actually supposed to be.’
‘Oh
yes? And what is that then?’
‘Well,
as I said, news should address current issues. It should relate information
about important or interesting recent events.’
‘Tish
and tosh.’ Dayglo laughed once more. ‘This is archaic thinking. I am a learned
man and possess books dating back to the former aeon. In those benighted times,
although the food was perhaps more varied, the news was never the same two days
running. It was forever changing, here today and gone tomorrow. You could never
take hold of it, be secure with it, say, this news I like and this news I will
keep. Happily such times are dead and done with.’
‘Perhaps
so,’ said Maxwell. ‘But consider this. You have now been here for a week,
telling your same piece of news, and daily your audience diminishes. How would
you explain that?’
‘In
truth I am at a loss to explain it.’ Dayglo arranged kindling beneath the
casserole pot. ‘Although we have observed this phenomenon repeatedly in other
places.’
‘Perhaps
if you had different news to
And
then he awaited the rush.
And
waiting it still was he.
So far
he had been called upon to solve only two problems. The first being to trace
the whereabouts of a lost dog, the second to seek the cause of blockage in the
town’s latrine. Although hardly grist to the thought-mill of an imagineer and
sadly lacking for chivalrous adventure, Maxwell had accepted both commissions,
working on the ‘great oaks from little acorns grow’ principle.
And he
had been successful in both commissions, hauling, as he did, the corpse of the
lost dog from the sewage outflow pipe.
One
party had defaulted in payment, however.
But the
mayor of the town had paid Maxwell handsomely.
In
parsnips.
The
arrival of the travelling TV had raised Maxwell’s spirits no end, and, as the
Imagineering business was a bit slack, he had taken to viewing the daily
performances. And while so doing, a grandiose scheme had entered his mercurial
mind, which he now felt he should translate into deeds for the benefit of all.
Good
chap.
‘Are
you still here?’ asked the zany. ‘Bugger off, will you?’
‘I have
come to offer you my services,’ said Maxwell. ‘Now that is pleasing to my
ears.’ The zany sliced parsnips into an earthenware casserole. ‘Hitch yourself
to the towing bar and be prepared to pull us out of town once we have eaten.
‘Your
humour is well received.’ Maxwell squatted down beside the zany. ‘But the
services I offer are more cerebral in nature.
‘Who is
this clod?’ asked Dayglo Hilyte, shambling over with a bundle of kindling.
‘This
is Max Carrion, Imagineer,’ explained the zany. ‘He has come to proffer his
services.’
‘Splendid,
then hitch him up to the towing bar.’.
‘Your
servant has already split my sides with that particular witticism,’ said
Maxwell. ‘However, I have a proposition to put to you which I think you will
find most beneficial.’
‘Oh
yes?’ Dayglo raised a pencilled eyebrow. ‘How much will this proposition cost
us?’
‘It is
utterly free of charge. I act through altruism alone.
‘Then
we will be most pleased to hear it.’
Max sat
down on the ground and looked on whilst Dayglo and his zany continued with the
preparation of their bleak repast.
‘It is
regarding this news of yours,’ said Max.
Dayglo
made a proud face beneath his make-up. ‘It is fine news, is it not?’
‘Fine
news indeed, but somewhat out of date.’
‘Out of
date?’ Dayglo puffed his cheeks. ‘How can such fine news ever date?’
‘It
hardly addresses current issues.’
Dayglo
Hilyte laughed. ‘My news is the last news ever to be broadcast upon the
networks before they closed down for ever at the time of the great transition.
This news is the property of my family. It has been handed down from generation
to generation.’
‘So
much I surmised,’ said Max. ‘But I feel that you are somehow missing the point
of what news is actually supposed to be.’
‘Oh
yes? And what is that then?’
‘Well,
as I said, news should address current issues. It should relate information
about important or interesting recent events.’
‘Tish
and tosh.’ Dayglo laughed once more. ‘This is archaic thinking. I am a learned
man and possess books dating back to the former aeon. In those benighted times,
although the food was perhaps more varied, the news was never the same two days
running. It was forever changing, here today and gone tomorrow. You could never
take hold of it, be secure with it, say, this news I like and this news I will
keep. Happily such times are dead and done with.’
‘Perhaps
so,’ said Maxwell. ‘But consider this. You have now been here for a week,
telling your same piece of news, and daily your audience diminishes. How would
you explain that?’
‘In
truth I am at a loss to explain it.’ Dayglo arranged kindling beneath the
casserole pot. ‘Although we have observed this phenomenon repeatedly in other
places.’
‘Perhaps
if you had different news to
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