The Hollow Chocolate Bunnies of the Apocalypse Read Online Free PDF Page B

meet with a wise woman who could make ducks dance.'
    'Did they dance upon a biscuit tin?'
    'Now I come to think of it, yes. How did
you
know?'
    'It's an old showman's trick,' said Eddie. 'Involves a lighted candle inside the biscuit tin.'
    'Urgh,' said Jack. 'That's most unpleasant.'
    'Works well, though. Look, we're here.'
    'Where's here?'
    'Tinto's Bar,' said Eddie. 'This is where I normally do my drinking, when I'm not on a case and getting thrown out of other bars. Put me down please, Jack.'
    Jack put Eddie down and viewed the exterior of Tinto's Bar.
    The exterior of Tinto's Bar was colourful, to say the very least.
    'Ghastly, isn't it?' said Eddie. 'I've suggested he repaint the place. But does he listen? No, he just throws me out. That's the trouble with being a teddy. Well, one of the troubles. People throw you about. They take liberties with your person. It's not nice, I can tell you.'
    'I quite like the colours,' said Jack.
    'They're mostly brown,' said Eddie. 'Those that aren't blue. They clash, in my opinion.'
    Jack stared at the bar's exterior. 'There aren't any browns or blues,' he said.
    'There are from where I'm looking. But then from where I'm looking, all the world is either brown or blue. It depends which eye I'm looking through. I've only the two, you see, and one's brown and one's blue. Not that I don't have others. I've a drawer full. But I can't fit them. No opposing thumbs, you see.' Eddie waved his paws about.
    Jack looked down. 'What?' he said.
    'Pardon is more polite,' said Eddie. 'But it's the curse of the teddy bear. Paws rather than hands. They don't even amount to proper paws, really. Proper paws are like stubby fingers. Mine are just sewn sections; nothing moves. You have no idea how lucky you are. Fingers and opposable thumbs. Bliss. What would I give, eh? That would be as wonderful as.'
    Jack pushed open the door and he and Eddie entered Tinto's Bar.
    It wasn't too colourful inside. In fact, it was all rather monochrome, or whatever the black and white equivalent of monochrome is. Black and white, probably.
    The floor was a chequerboard pattern. The ceiling was likewise. But there was something altogether wrong about that ceiling. It was far too near to the floor. Jack had to duck his head. There were tables and chairs, around and about, arranged in pleasing compositions. But as Jack viewed these, he could clearly see that their dimensions were wrong. The tables and chairs were much too small, built, it appeared, for children. And upon the chairs and seated at the tables, engaged in noisy discussion sat...
    Jack stopped in mid head-duck and stared.
    Sat...
    Jack opened his mouth.
    Sat...
    Jack backed towards the door he had come in by.
    Sat...
    'Toys!' shouted Jack, and he fled.
     
    It was another alleyway, and Jack was sitting down in it.
    'You're really going to have to pull yourself together,' Eddie told him.
    'Toys?’ Jack made an idiotic face.
    'So?' said Eddie.
    'Toys. In the bar. I saw them. They were drinking and talking.'
    'That's what they do. What
we
do. What's the big deal?'
    'Am I dead?' asked Jack. 'Is that it? I'm dead, aren't I?'
    Eddie shook his head. 'You're a bit messed up. But you're not dead. You're as alive as.'
    'And so they were real?'
    'As real as. This is a very weird conversation, and becoming somewhat repetitive. You're a very strange lad, Jack.'
    'I'm
strange? How dare you? I was in that bar. I saw toys.
Live
toys. Dolls and bears like you and clockwork soldiers and •wooden things and they were alive. I saw them.'
    'Well, what did you expect to see, insects? You're in Toy City and Toy City is where toys live, isn't it?'
    'Toy City,' said Jack. 'I can't believe it.'
    'Listen,' said Eddie. 'You're a nice lad and everything. But you really must pull yourself together. You're in Toy City, which is where toys live. Which is where toys
have
always lived and
will
always live. It's hardly Utopia, but we get by somehow. Nothing ever changes around here. Or shouldn't