The Toyminator Read Online Free PDF

said. “Look at the state of you. Sniff the smell of you. Go back into business together? What business?”
    “If we build it, they will come,” said Eddie. “We have Bill’s office. Well, we will as soon as you have picked the lock and we can get inside. Then we’ll set up. We can call ourselves ‘Jack Investigations’ if you want.”
    Jack shook his head. “And what will we investigate?”
    “Crimes,” said Eddie.
    “I thought the police investigated crimes. Those jolly red-faced laughing policemen. And Chief Inspector Bellis.”
    “As if they care about what happens to the likes of us.”
    “The likes of
us
?” Jack raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think it’s
us
, Eddie. You are a toy and I am a –”
    “Meathead,” said Eddie. “I know.”
    “Man,” said Jack.
    “And so you are one of the privileged.” Eddie had finished his burger. But as he was still hungry, he made the face of one who was.
    “I’ll fry you up another,” said Jack. “But, no offence, you know what I mean.”
    “And you know that that was what I was trying to change. The injustice of the system. The way toys are treated as if they are nothing at all.”
    “They are treated as if they are toys,” said Jack, applying himself once more to that Hellish piece of equipment known as a griddle. “No offence meant once more.”
    “Toys have feelings, too,” said Eddie.
    Jack turned from the grill and gazed upon Eddie. The two of them had been through a great deal together. They had indeed had adventures. They had indeed had a relationship that was based upon trust and deep friendship. A lad and a toy bear. Absurd? Maybe. But then, what isn’t?
    “Eddie,” said Jack, “it really is truly good to see you once more.”
    “Thanks,” said Eddie. “The same goes for me.”
    “Eddie?” said Jack.
    “Jack?” said Eddie.
    “Would you mind very much if I were to give you a hug?”
    “I would bite you right in the balls if you ever tried.”
    “Thank goodness for that,” said Jack, “because you smell like shit.”
     
    Jack really didn’t need
that much
persuading. He put up a spirited, if insincere, struggle, of course, citing the possibilities of promotion in the field of customer services and the pension plan and putting forward some unsupportable hypothesis that young women found griddle chefs sexy. But he really didn’t take
that much
persuading and, come ten of the morning clock, with Sam shining down encouragingly, Jack took what wages he felt he was owed from the cash register, plus a small bonus that he considered he deserved, and with it his leave of Nadine’s Diner.
    “It’s spoon,” he told the crossword-solving dolly as he made his departure. “What the dish ran away with.”
    “Does this mean you’re running away from me?” asked the dolly.
    “Not a bit of it,” said Jack. “I’ll pick you up at eight. Take you to the pictures.”
    Outside in the encouraging sunlight, Eddie said, “Jack, are you
doing it
with that dolly?”
    “Well …” said Jack.
    “Disgusting,” said Eddie. “You should be ashamed.”
    “I am,” said Jack, “but I’m trying to work through it.”
    “And succeeding by the look of it.”
    Jack tried to make a guilty face.
    “You’re a very bad boy,” said Eddie.
     
    The building hadn’t changed at all, but then why should it have changed? It was a sturdy edifice, built in the vernacular style, Alphabet brick, with a tendency towards the occasional fiddly piece, which gave it that extra bit of character. Bill Winkie’s office was on the first floor above the garage, which might or might not still house his splendid automobile. Eddie did ploddings up the stairway. Jack did long-legged stridings.
    “It feels a bit odd,” said Jack as he followed Eddie, who with difficulty had overtaken him, along the corridor that led past various offices towards the door that led to Bill’s, “being back here again.”
    “We did have some adventures, though.”
    “All of them