Read Online The Hollow Chocolate Bunnies of the Apocalypse by Robert Rankin - Free Book Online Page B
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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it?' said Jack.
'It's all in the enunciation,' replied the frog in a haughty tone. 'But to the crude, uncultured ear, even champagne sounds like beer.'
'My apologies,' said Jack. 'Now please let us in or I will be forced to shoot you dead.'
'No,' said Eddie. 'That's not what we agreed.'
'Yes, but—'
'Show him the money,' said Eddie.
'Money?' the frog said. 'Coin of gold? It's often used to bribe, I'm told.'
'Then you were told correctly.' Jack held out the few meagre coins that Eddie had given to him. The rhymey frog blinked bulbous and disdainful eyes at them.
'I know it's not much,' said Jack. 'But consider it a token down-payment. I have come to collect certain sums owing to Mr Anders. I am to collect them from the penthouse apartment of the late Humpty Dumpty. I am instructed by Mr Anders to furnish you with a percentage of these certain sums, to accommodate you for any inconvenience caused.'
'Well remembered,' whispered Eddie.
'Well...' said the frog, thoughtfully.
'Or I could come back later,' said Jack. 'Perhaps when you've gone off shift and the night porter is on.'
'Welcome, friend,' said the frog, swinging wide the door and snatching the coins from Jack's outstretched hand.
The big frog took the stairs in leaps and bounds. Jack and Eddie took the lift.
'Rhymey frog!' said Jack. 'What is
that
all about?'
'Have you never heard of energetic engineering?' Eddie asked.
'Are you sure you've got that right?’ Jack asked.
'Of course. Well, possibly. Well, probably. It's something to do with very busy work being done in toy factories.'
'There's a great deal of that; I can vouch for it,' said Jack, having a fiddle with the lift buttons.
'Please don't touch those,' said Eddie.
'But it's the first time I've ever travelled in a posh lift like this. Can we stop at all the floors?'
'No,' said Eddie. 'But, as I was saying, energetic engineering. Busy busy busy. It's been known to drive men mad. And mad men make mistakes. Rhymey frogs, fluffy trains, grumpy clocks, frank chickens.'
'Don't they just get scrapped?'
'Not when they amuse Mr Anders.'
'I'd like to meet this Mr Anders.' The lift came to a standstill. 'We're here,' said Jack.
'No we're not. You pressed one of the buttons. I told you not to. Press the penthouse one. Let's see if we can beat that frog.'
They didn't beat that frog. He was waiting at the penthouse door, a bunch of shiny keys in his froggy fingers. He looked a little puffed, though. But then, frogs often do.
'The policemen stuck all this tape across the door,' said the frog. 'They said they'd come back some time soon, to stick on a •whole lot more.'
Jack ran his finger along the strip of brightly coloured tape and licked his fingertip. 'Yellow berry,' he said. 'Very tasty.'
'Doing that's illegal,' said the frog.
'It is,' agreed Eddie. 'Yellow berry? Are you sure?'
Jack broke off a strip of the strip and stuck it into his mouth.
'Illegal,' said the frog once more.
'You're not rhyming that with anything,' said Jack, making lip-smacking sounds.
'That's probably because he lives in mortal dread of the police,' said Eddie. 'Them dishing out such vicious on-the-spot punishments to offenders and everything.'
'Quite so,' said Jack, hastily wiping his mouth. 'So, shall we go inside? Attend to the financial business of the important Mr Anders? Kindly open up the door, Mr Froggie.'
Mr Froggie handed Jack the keys. 'I'd rather you did it,' he said. 'I'd prefer not to touch the tape.'
Jack glanced at Eddie.
Eddie shrugged. 'We're here now,' he said. 'Might as well do it.'
Jack pulled away the yellow-berry-flavoured tape. 'Which key?' he asked the frog.
'Any one of them will do; they're all the same and none are new.'
'That's not very secure, is it?'
'No one who's not official ever gets past me. I'm as vigilant as it's frog-manly possible to be.'
'You can't argue with that,' Eddie said. 'Open up the door, Bill.'
'I'm in charge here.' The door to the late Humpty's
'It's all in the enunciation,' replied the frog in a haughty tone. 'But to the crude, uncultured ear, even champagne sounds like beer.'
'My apologies,' said Jack. 'Now please let us in or I will be forced to shoot you dead.'
'No,' said Eddie. 'That's not what we agreed.'
'Yes, but—'
'Show him the money,' said Eddie.
'Money?' the frog said. 'Coin of gold? It's often used to bribe, I'm told.'
'Then you were told correctly.' Jack held out the few meagre coins that Eddie had given to him. The rhymey frog blinked bulbous and disdainful eyes at them.
'I know it's not much,' said Jack. 'But consider it a token down-payment. I have come to collect certain sums owing to Mr Anders. I am to collect them from the penthouse apartment of the late Humpty Dumpty. I am instructed by Mr Anders to furnish you with a percentage of these certain sums, to accommodate you for any inconvenience caused.'
'Well remembered,' whispered Eddie.
'Well...' said the frog, thoughtfully.
'Or I could come back later,' said Jack. 'Perhaps when you've gone off shift and the night porter is on.'
'Welcome, friend,' said the frog, swinging wide the door and snatching the coins from Jack's outstretched hand.
The big frog took the stairs in leaps and bounds. Jack and Eddie took the lift.
'Rhymey frog!' said Jack. 'What is
that
all about?'
'Have you never heard of energetic engineering?' Eddie asked.
'Are you sure you've got that right?’ Jack asked.
'Of course. Well, possibly. Well, probably. It's something to do with very busy work being done in toy factories.'
'There's a great deal of that; I can vouch for it,' said Jack, having a fiddle with the lift buttons.
'Please don't touch those,' said Eddie.
'But it's the first time I've ever travelled in a posh lift like this. Can we stop at all the floors?'
'No,' said Eddie. 'But, as I was saying, energetic engineering. Busy busy busy. It's been known to drive men mad. And mad men make mistakes. Rhymey frogs, fluffy trains, grumpy clocks, frank chickens.'
'Don't they just get scrapped?'
'Not when they amuse Mr Anders.'
'I'd like to meet this Mr Anders.' The lift came to a standstill. 'We're here,' said Jack.
'No we're not. You pressed one of the buttons. I told you not to. Press the penthouse one. Let's see if we can beat that frog.'
They didn't beat that frog. He was waiting at the penthouse door, a bunch of shiny keys in his froggy fingers. He looked a little puffed, though. But then, frogs often do.
'The policemen stuck all this tape across the door,' said the frog. 'They said they'd come back some time soon, to stick on a •whole lot more.'
Jack ran his finger along the strip of brightly coloured tape and licked his fingertip. 'Yellow berry,' he said. 'Very tasty.'
'Doing that's illegal,' said the frog.
'It is,' agreed Eddie. 'Yellow berry? Are you sure?'
Jack broke off a strip of the strip and stuck it into his mouth.
'Illegal,' said the frog once more.
'You're not rhyming that with anything,' said Jack, making lip-smacking sounds.
'That's probably because he lives in mortal dread of the police,' said Eddie. 'Them dishing out such vicious on-the-spot punishments to offenders and everything.'
'Quite so,' said Jack, hastily wiping his mouth. 'So, shall we go inside? Attend to the financial business of the important Mr Anders? Kindly open up the door, Mr Froggie.'
Mr Froggie handed Jack the keys. 'I'd rather you did it,' he said. 'I'd prefer not to touch the tape.'
Jack glanced at Eddie.
Eddie shrugged. 'We're here now,' he said. 'Might as well do it.'
Jack pulled away the yellow-berry-flavoured tape. 'Which key?' he asked the frog.
'Any one of them will do; they're all the same and none are new.'
'That's not very secure, is it?'
'No one who's not official ever gets past me. I'm as vigilant as it's frog-manly possible to be.'
'You can't argue with that,' Eddie said. 'Open up the door, Bill.'
'I'm in charge here.' The door to the late Humpty's
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