Something rotten

twenty seconds, I moved Friday to the other hip again and then finally he said:

'The trouble is, Thursday, that things are different now. You vanished from my life. Gone. I've had to carry on.'

'What do you mean?' I asked, suddenly feeling very uneasy.

'Well, the thing is,' he went on slowly, 'I didn't think you were coming back. So I married Daisy Mutlar.'

25 Practical Difficulties Regarding Uneradications

DANISH PERSON SOUGHT

A man of Danish appearance was sought yesterday in connection with an armed robbery at the First Goliath Bank in Banbury. The man, described as being 'of Danish appearance', entered the bank at 9.35 and demanded that the teller hand over all the money. Five hundred pounds in sterling and a small amount of Danish Kroner held in the foreign currencies department were stolen. Police described this, small sum of Kroner as of 'particular significance' and pledged to wipe out the menace of Danish criminality as soon as possible. The public have been warned to be on the lookout for anyone of Danish appearance, and to let the police know of any Danes acting suspiciously, or, failing that, any Danes at all.

Article in The Toad, 15 July 1988

'You did what?'

'Well, you did vanish without a trace — what was I meant to do?' I couldn't believe it. The little scumbag had sought solace in the arms of a miserable cow who wasn't good enough to carry his bag, let alone be his wife. I stared at him, speechless. I think my mouth might even have dropped open at that point, and I was just wondering whether I should burst into tears, kill him with my bare hands, slam the door, scream, swear or all of the above at the same time when I noticed that Landen was doing that thing he does when he's trying not to laugh.

'You one-legged piece of crap,' I said at last, smiling with the relief, 'you did no such thing!'

'Had you going, though, didn't I?' He grinned.

Now I was angry.

'What did you want to go and make that stupid joke for? You know I'm armed and unstable!'

'It's no more stupid than your dopey yarn about me being eradicated!'

'It's not a dopey yarn.'

'It is. If I had been eradicated, then there wouldn't be any little boy . . .'

His voice trailed off and suddenly all our remonstrations dissipated as Friday became the centre of attention. Landen looked at Friday and Friday looked at Landen. I looked at both of them in turn, then, taking his fingers out of his mouth, Friday said:

'Bum.'

'What did he say?'

'I'm not sure. Sounds like a word he picked up from St Zvlkx.'

Landen pressed Friday's nose.

'Beep,' said Landen.

'Bubbies,' said Friday.

'Eradicated, eh?'

'Yes.'

'That must be the most preposterous story I have ever heard in my life.'

'I have no argument with that.'

He paused.

'Which I guess makes it too weird not to be true.'

We moved towards each other at the same time and I bumped into his chin with my head. There was a crack as his teeth snapped together and he yelped in pain — I think he had bitten his tongue. It was as Hamlet said. Nothing is ever slick and simple in the real world. He hated it for that reason — and I loved it.

'What's so funny?' he demanded.

'Nothing,' I replied, 'it's just something Hamlet said.'

'Hamlet? Here?'

'No — at Mum's. He was having an affair with Emma Hamilton, whose boyfriend Admiral Nelson attempted to commit suicide.'

'By what means?'

'The French navy.'

'No . . . no,' said Landen, shaking his head. 'Let's just stick with one ludicrously preposterous story at a time. Listen, I'm an author and I can't think up the sort of cr— I mean nonsense you get yourself into.'

Friday managed to squeeze off one shoe despite the best efforts of my double knots and was now tugging at his sock.

'Handsome fellow, isn't he?' said Landen after a pause.

'He takes after his father.'

'Nah — his mother. Is his finger stuck permanently up his nose?'

'Most of the time. It's called 'The Search'. An amusing little pastime that has kept small children entertained since the dawn of time. Enough, Friday.'

He took his finger out with an almost audible 'pop' and handed Landen his polar bear.

'Ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip.'

'What did he say?'

'I don't know,' I replied, 'it's something called Lorem Ipsum — a sort of quasi-Latin that typesetters use to make up blocks of realistic-looking type.'

Landen raised an eyebrow.

'You're not joking, are you?'

'They use it a lot in the Well of Lost Plots.'

'The what?'

'It's a place where all fiction is—'

'Enough!' said Landen, clapping his hands together. 'We can't have you telling ridiculous stories here on the front step. Come on in and tell me them inside.'

I shook my head and stared at him.

'What?'

'My mother said Daisy Mutlar was back in town.'

'She has a job here, apparently.'

Really?' I asked suspiciously. 'How do you know?'

'She works for my publisher.'

'And you haven't been seeing her''

'Definitely not!'

'Cross your heart, hope to die?'

He held up his hand.

'Scout's honour.'

'Okay,' I said slowly, 'I believe you.'