Mr. Monk on the Road Read Online Free PDF Page B

end of the bottom row, there were a car, a rocket, and a boat shaped like peanuts.
    “Those toys came from the boxes of tainted cereal,” Monk said.
    “Yes, they did,” Ambrose said. “I kept the toys but I threw out the cereal.”
    “But the cereal was virulent with plague,” Monk said.
    That wasn’t entirely accurate. Salmonella isn’t a plague, but he had a good point, so I kept my mouth shut.
    “I had to have them, Adrian. I have all the Major Munch toys, going back for decades. I even have an extra set in case of an emergency.”
    “Like what?” Monk said, practically yelling, his voice cracking with exasperation.
    It was odd hearing him ask that. It was the kind of rational question I usually asked him about his irrational behavior. And yet now he was doing the asking. Granted, he was asking another Monk, but it was still gratifying to hear. Maybe Monk was getting a better grip on himself after all.
    “I have a list,” Ambrose said.
    Of course he did. Monk had lists, too. And lists of his lists. He’d promised to will all the lists to me when he died, which I found kind of ironic, since it was those insane lists, and his insistence on living by them, that would provoke me into strangling him one day.
    “I can show the list of emergencies to you if you like,” Ambrose said.
    “Don’t bother,” Monk said.
    “Both sets of toys are perfectly safe.”
    “You dug them out of a box of sugar-coated plague!”
    “Each of the toys was sealed in a plastic bag and I thoroughly disinfected them after I took them out,” Ambrose said.
    “But you opened the box in the house, releasing plague into the air. We’re probably breathing it right now,” Monk said. “We’ll know because within minutes we’ll experience fever, chills, sweats, headaches, weakness, nausea, vomiting, fall into a coma, and die, though I would prefer if death preceded the vomiting.”
    “You don’t have to worry, Adrian. I took the cereal box into the basement. I cleared the room, covered it entirely with plastic sheeting, sealed all the vents, and wore a hazmat suit while I performed the extraction procedure. The room was virtually airtight the entire time.”
    “You’re joking,” I said.
    Ambrose gave me a look. “I wanted the toys, but I’m not insane. Afterward, I had the tainted cereal and the plastic removed from the house by a hazardous waste company.”
    I shook my head. “All of that just for three lousy peanut-shaped plastic toys?”
    “Yes,” Ambrose said and shook the box again. “So now that I’ve reassured you, how about savoring the delights of Major Munch with me?”
    “I’ll pass,” I said.
    “Me, too,” Monk said.
    “We’re stuffed,” I said. It was one of the few times Monk and I had ever agreed on anything.
    “Very well,” Ambrose said, setting the box down. “I’ll have my bowl later. So I guess that brings breakfast to a close, and we might as well get to it.”
    “Get to what?” Monk asked.
    “There’s a reason I invited you over today.”
    “You wanted to show me where to find your will in case the Major Munch Peanut Crunch ends up being your last meal.”
    “I have something special for you.” Ambrose led us into the living room.
    “I really don’t need any more instruction manuals for products that I don’t own,” Monk said.
    “There are many discerning readers who enjoy them for the breezy writing style, the sly wit, and the opportunity to enhance their knowledge of the world,” Ambrose said, casting an appreciative glance my way. I think he expected me to raise my hand so Monk was certain whom he was talking about.
    But Monk already knew it was me. I was probably the only person on earth with a collection of signed first-edition owner’s manuals.
    “Your guide to the Heiko 61B678 Blu-ray DVD Player was positively sublime,” I said to Ambrose. “It blew away the instruction manual for my old DVD player.”
    “The Kinyosonic 47GGT DVD-VHS Combo, correct?” Ambrose said