Read Online The Hollow Chocolate Bunnies of the Apocalypse by Robert Rankin - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Robert Rankin
Tags: Fiction, General, Humorous stories, Humorous, Science-Fiction, Fantasy, Crime, Mystery Fiction, Serial Murders, sf_humor, Characters and Characteristics in Literature, Teddy bears
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driver's door and removed himself from the vehicle; Eddie followed him. 'Don't forget your fedora,' said Eddie.
Jack retrieved the hat from the rear seat, stuck it onto his head and closed the car door. Then he did much adjusting of his trenchcoat, straightening the belt and turning up the collar. 'How do I look?' he asked Eddie. 'Pretty darn smart, eh?'
Eddie sighed and nodded. 'What is it about trenchcoats,' he asked, 'that bring out the vanity in a man?'
'Search me.' Jack did shoulder-swaggerings and turned down the brim of his hat. 'But do I look the business, or what?'
'As handsome as. Now, you do remember everything I whispered to you?'
'Of course. I'm Bill Winkie, private eye and—'
'Save it 'til it's needed; follow me.'
'Ah no,' said Jack. 'I'm the detective, you're the detective's bear,
you
follow
me.'
'Sweet as,' said Eddie, scowling as he said it. 'So which way do we go?'
'Pvight up the front steps and in through the big front door.'
'Wrong,' said the bear. 'Around the back and in by the tradesmen's entrance.'
'Oh, come on now.'
'Just do it the way I told you, please.'
'Well, as you ask so nicely. Then let's go.'
And so they went.
The tradesmen's entrance was in an alleyway. This was litter-strewn and unappealing. Jack turned up his nose.
'Knock at the door,' said Eddie, 'and do your stuff. Make me proud of you, eh?'
'Leave it to Bill,' said Jack, a-knocking at the door.
There was a bit of a wait. And then a bit more. Then there was a longer wait and then a longer one still.
'I don't much care for this waiting,' said Jack.
'It's second nature to me,' said Eddie. 'When I'm not getting drunk, or being thrown around, I'm generally waiting for something or other.'
They waited some more and then Jack knocked again.
This time there was no wait at all; the tradesmen's entrance door croaked open.
Jack was taken somewhat aback. 'It croaked,' he whispered to Eddie, 'rather than creaked. Why did it do that?'
'Who's on the knock at this fine tower block?' asked a very strange voice indeed.
Jack looked in and then Jack stepped back. Smartly, and right onto Eddie.
'Ow!' howled Eddie. 'Get off me.'
'Big frog!' howled Jack, getting off Eddie.
'Yes?' said the big frog. 'Bright as fizziness. What is the nature of your business?'
Jack chewed upon his upper lip. The big frog was a very big frog indeed, easily equal to himself in height, standing erect upon its long rear legs and all decked out in a rather spiffing tailcoat and wing-collared shirt, replete with a dashing spotty bow-tie. The big frog appeared to be made out of rubber.
'I am the concierge,' said the big frog. 'And you are a gormster, I perceive. Hurry up and take your leave.'
'Winkie,' said Jack. 'Bill Winkie, private eye. Here upon the business of Mr Anders.'
'Mr Anders, maker of toys, greatly beloved of girls and boys?'
'Do you know of another Mr Anders?'
The big frog licked his lips with an over-long flycatcher of a tongue. 'Naturally I know several,' it said, taking in a deep breath. 'Panders Anders, the pale poom runner, right royal rascal and son of a gunner. Ackabar Anders, the starlight meanderer, profligate poltroon, feckless philanderer. And of course, Anthony Anders the third, tall as a trouser and beaked as a bird.'
'What is all this?' Jack muttered in Eddie's direction. 'He speaks in rhyme.'
'Rhymey Frog,' said Eddie. 'Haven't you ever met a rhymey frog before?'
Jack shook his head. The rhymey frog prepared to slam shut the door.
'Ah, no,' said Jack, putting his foot in it. 'Very important business. Mr Anders, and all that. Kindly let us in.'
'Us?' said the frog. 'There's only one of you I see. Or do you wear a crown and use the royal "We" ? '
'There's me and my bear,' said Jack, waving a hand towards Eddie.
'Hi,' said Eddie, waggling a paw. 'Pleased to meet you, I am sure.'
'I shall need from you a letter of introduction. To admit your entrance without any further interruption.'
'That didn't scan too well, did
Jack retrieved the hat from the rear seat, stuck it onto his head and closed the car door. Then he did much adjusting of his trenchcoat, straightening the belt and turning up the collar. 'How do I look?' he asked Eddie. 'Pretty darn smart, eh?'
Eddie sighed and nodded. 'What is it about trenchcoats,' he asked, 'that bring out the vanity in a man?'
'Search me.' Jack did shoulder-swaggerings and turned down the brim of his hat. 'But do I look the business, or what?'
'As handsome as. Now, you do remember everything I whispered to you?'
'Of course. I'm Bill Winkie, private eye and—'
'Save it 'til it's needed; follow me.'
'Ah no,' said Jack. 'I'm the detective, you're the detective's bear,
you
follow
me.'
'Sweet as,' said Eddie, scowling as he said it. 'So which way do we go?'
'Pvight up the front steps and in through the big front door.'
'Wrong,' said the bear. 'Around the back and in by the tradesmen's entrance.'
'Oh, come on now.'
'Just do it the way I told you, please.'
'Well, as you ask so nicely. Then let's go.'
And so they went.
The tradesmen's entrance was in an alleyway. This was litter-strewn and unappealing. Jack turned up his nose.
'Knock at the door,' said Eddie, 'and do your stuff. Make me proud of you, eh?'
'Leave it to Bill,' said Jack, a-knocking at the door.
There was a bit of a wait. And then a bit more. Then there was a longer wait and then a longer one still.
'I don't much care for this waiting,' said Jack.
'It's second nature to me,' said Eddie. 'When I'm not getting drunk, or being thrown around, I'm generally waiting for something or other.'
They waited some more and then Jack knocked again.
This time there was no wait at all; the tradesmen's entrance door croaked open.
Jack was taken somewhat aback. 'It croaked,' he whispered to Eddie, 'rather than creaked. Why did it do that?'
'Who's on the knock at this fine tower block?' asked a very strange voice indeed.
Jack looked in and then Jack stepped back. Smartly, and right onto Eddie.
'Ow!' howled Eddie. 'Get off me.'
'Big frog!' howled Jack, getting off Eddie.
'Yes?' said the big frog. 'Bright as fizziness. What is the nature of your business?'
Jack chewed upon his upper lip. The big frog was a very big frog indeed, easily equal to himself in height, standing erect upon its long rear legs and all decked out in a rather spiffing tailcoat and wing-collared shirt, replete with a dashing spotty bow-tie. The big frog appeared to be made out of rubber.
'I am the concierge,' said the big frog. 'And you are a gormster, I perceive. Hurry up and take your leave.'
'Winkie,' said Jack. 'Bill Winkie, private eye. Here upon the business of Mr Anders.'
'Mr Anders, maker of toys, greatly beloved of girls and boys?'
'Do you know of another Mr Anders?'
The big frog licked his lips with an over-long flycatcher of a tongue. 'Naturally I know several,' it said, taking in a deep breath. 'Panders Anders, the pale poom runner, right royal rascal and son of a gunner. Ackabar Anders, the starlight meanderer, profligate poltroon, feckless philanderer. And of course, Anthony Anders the third, tall as a trouser and beaked as a bird.'
'What is all this?' Jack muttered in Eddie's direction. 'He speaks in rhyme.'
'Rhymey Frog,' said Eddie. 'Haven't you ever met a rhymey frog before?'
Jack shook his head. The rhymey frog prepared to slam shut the door.
'Ah, no,' said Jack, putting his foot in it. 'Very important business. Mr Anders, and all that. Kindly let us in.'
'Us?' said the frog. 'There's only one of you I see. Or do you wear a crown and use the royal "We" ? '
'There's me and my bear,' said Jack, waving a hand towards Eddie.
'Hi,' said Eddie, waggling a paw. 'Pleased to meet you, I am sure.'
'I shall need from you a letter of introduction. To admit your entrance without any further interruption.'
'That didn't scan too well, did
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