The Mammoth Book of Awesome Comic Fantasy

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The Mammoth Book of Awesome Comic Fantasy Page 31

by Mike Ashley


  Of course I am giving them the big hello, although naturally these characters are not such as I will wish to be associated with, in any way, whatsoever, as they are very hard characters, indeed. But I do not let on to Harry the Horse, Spanish John and Little Isadore that I am not glad to see them, as they may take offence, and if they take offence they may take me for an airing, and such guys as Harry the Horse takes for an airing do not come back.

  Well, Harry the Horse slaps me on the back, and he says to me like this:

  “We are looking for a guy called Eugene Edmonton,” he says. “Do you see Eugene Edmonton around and about lately?”

  Now I do not hear of Eugene Edmonton before this, and I am thinking that even if I do know this guy, the chances are I will not be telling Harry the Horse his whereabouts, or Eugene Edmonton might be turning up very seriously dead.

  “We are looking for Eugene Edmonton,” says Harry the Horse, “because we have a proposition to put to him,” and he tells me as follows.

  Last Thursday along about four bells in the morning, we are meeting Eugene Edmonton in Good Time Charley Bernstein’s little joint on Forty-eighth Street. He is sitting at the next table crying into his drink, which is maybe the best thing to do with Good Time Charley’s drinks, at that.

  He is a little guy with a small moustache and gold-rimmed cheaters, and all dressed up in a good tuxedo, and I am thinking that such a guy should be stepping out around the nightclubs, instead of sitting in Good Time Charley’s crying into his drink.

  After a while he says to us as follows:

  “Friends,” he says, “I am the unhappiest guy in the world. I am in love with Miss Paulette Patrick, but she plays plenty of chill for me. I do not wish to live if Miss Paulette Patrick will not love me. In fact,” he says, “I am thinking of scragging myself.”

  We commence to think that he is more than somewhat daffy, to consider scragging himself because some doll will not love him, especially such a doll as Miss Paulette Patrick, who is no more than a dancer at Miss Missouri Martin’s Sixteen Hundred Club. Furthermore, we do not wish him to scrag himself while we are in the neighbourhood, as we figure the cops will think that we are the parties who do the scragging, and will be asking some very awkward questions, indeed.

  But we do not say this to him, and pretty soon he comes to sit at our table and buys us drinks, although of course we do not drink them.

  “I send Miss Paulette Patrick diamond bracelets and fur wraps,” he says, “and she sends them back to me. She says she does not wish diamond bracelets and fur wraps. She says to me, ‘I will never love a guy who does nothing but hang around the nightclubs. The man I marry will have to do heroic deeds. I wish a knight in shining armour,’ she says.”

  Now this makes us think that Miss Paulette Patrick must also be more than somewhat daffy, since knights in shining armour are few and far between in this man’s town, while Eugene Edmonton looks like a guy who has plenty, and if Miss Paulette Patrick becomes his ever-loving wife the chances are she will have more diamond bracelets than she has room on her arms.

  Well, Eugene Edmonton is just ordering some more drinks, when suddenly the door of Good Time Charley’s joint flies open, and standing in the doorway is such a guy as I never see before in all my life, and (says Harry the Horse) I see a few.

  This guy is about seven feet tall and about five feet wide, and his muscles look like melons in a sack. He is wearing nothing but a sort of fur apron, about as much as will make a cover for a niblick, if it is a small niblick, hairy boots, and a leather belt with a sword.

  At first I think this is nothing but an advertising stunt, but I cannot see where the guy is selling anything, and if he is selling anything he is not the sort of guy that respectable citizens will give their potatoes, or have any truck with whatsoever, in any way.

  This guy marches over to the bar, and he says to Good Time Charley: “Me Thurg.”

  Now Good Time Charley is looking somewhat disorganized, and he does not say anything, until the big guy slams a hand down on the bar and says, “Give Thurg drink.”

  “Coming right up, Mr Thurg,” says Good Time Charley, and he reaches for the bottle of Scotch to pour Thurg a shot.

  Thurg grabs the bottle, bites off the neck and spits the glass on the floor, and pours the Scotch down his throat. This surprises us all more than somewhat, since I know for a fact that this Scotch is made by Moonshine Joe Brady in a basement on Eleventh Avenue, and Moonshine Joe gets very critical of citizens who ask him what he puts in it.

  Before this I never see any guy stay on his feet after drinking a couple of shots of Moonshine Joe’s Scotch, leave alone the whole bottle, but Thurg just tosses the empty over his shoulder and says, “More drink.”

  So Good Time Charley gives Thurg another bottle, and I consider it very bad taste on Thurg’s part to spit glass on the floor, especially as it is Good Time Charley Bernstein’s floor. We can all see that Thurg is one dead tough mug, indeed.

  When Thurg finishes this new bottle, he slaps himself on the chest a couple of times, and says, “Thurg seek Eye of God.”

  Now when Little Isadore hears this he begins sniggering more than somewhat, because if a guy is seeking any part of God he will not be finding it around and about on Broadway, except maybe at the Save-a-Soul mission.

  And when Thurg hears Little Isadore sniggering he seems very much excited, and steps up to our table and grabs Little Isadore by the neck and holds him off the floor like a bag of wet washing, and says like this:

  “Thurg great warrior. Not laugh at Thurg.”

  Now naturally when I see this I go for the old equalizer, but I fail to find it, as on this particular night I am not rodded up, because Good Time Charley does not approve of guys shooting other guys in his joint, or at least not much.

  Little Isadore is turning blue in the face when Thurg drops him, and he lies on the floor and takes no more interest in the proceedings.

  Thurg says, “Eye of God is ruby, from temple statue. Where Thurg find?”

  Well, when Thurg mentions a ruby, I begin to find his proposition very attractive, indeed, but I say nothing, because I do not know where he will find the Eye of God, and if I do know, the chances are I will not be telling Thurg.

  Now all this time Eugene Edmonton is sitting at our table, looking very sad indeed, but when Thurg says this he jumps to his feet.

  “Mr Thurg, I do not know where you can find the Eye of God, but I will help you look for it,” he says. “It will be a heroic deed, and then maybe Miss Paulette Patrick will love me!”

  Thurg looks all pleasured up when Eugene Edmonton says this, and he slaps Eugene Edmonton on the back, so that Eugene Edmonton’s gold-rimmed cheaters fly off.

  “You brave warrior!” he says. “You Thurg friend.”

  Then he strides over to the door and on out, and Eugene Edmonton finds his cheaters and goes after him, and I go after him too, because where there is a ruby there is a percentage, and I am such a guy as is always looking for a percentage, in any way I can. And Spanish John picks Little Isadore off of the floor, and we all go out onto Forty-eighth Street, and Eugene Edmonton calls a cab.

  Now it so happens that this cab is one of those old-time horse-drawn victorias, and Eugene Edmonton tells the hackie to drive to the Sixteen Hundred Club. I do not know why Eugene Edmonton expects to find the Eye of God there, but I figure that if he is to do a heroic deed, he wishes Miss Paulette Patrick to be there to see it. And the dolls at the Sixteen Hundred club will be wearing diamonds and rubies and emeralds and other such items, so maybe it is not such a bad idea, at that.

  At first as we drive off Thurg is still looking all pleasured up, and says, “This good chariot. Thurg like,” but soon he starts peering around and about on the street, and there is a scowl on his map.

  He says to us, “You know wizard? Great wizard Alphazor?”

  Now I do not hear of this character before, or any wizard of any kind, except maybe Three Card Clancy, who is a wiz at the
Three Card Trick, and Find the Lady, and other such entertainments, with which Three Card Clancy earns many potatoes from citizens who do not meet him before.

  “No,” says Eugene Edmonton. “We do not know Alphazor.”

  “Alphazor evil wizard,” says Thurg, and he scowls blacker than ever. “Alphazor seek Eye of God also. But Thurg will find!”

  Now I wonder what happens if the evil wizard Alphazor catches up with Thurg, because it is clear to me that if there is one guy Thurg does not care for, it is the evil wizard Alphazor. But it is also clear to me that Thurg is not right bright, and maybe he is wrong that the evil wizard Alphazor is looking for the Eye of God. And so I dismiss him from my mind.

  Well, when we get to the Sixteen Hundred Club, Eugene Edmonton tells the hackie to wait, and we go in, and Eugene Edmonton gives Moosh the doorman a pound note not to ask questions about Thurg, though when Moosh sets eyes on Thurg the chances are he will not be asking questions of any kind, whatsoever.

  Inside the Sixteen Hundred Club, Miss Missouri Martin’s jazz band, the Hi Hi Boys, are playing, and Miss Paulette Patrick is out on the floor doing her dance. She is a tall doll with black hair, and I can see that nothing about her is phoney, for all she is wearing is a couple of pink feathers and a fan, and it is a small fan, at that.

  So Eugene gets us a table at the edge of the dance floor, and we sit there watching Miss Paulette Patrick, and I can see that to Eugene Edmonton she is a very pleasant sight, indeed.

  Thurg does not sit with us at the table, but instead he goes around and about among the customers at the Sixteen Hundred Club, looking at the dolls’ necklets and bracelets, but nowhere does he find the Eye of God. Furthermore, the prominent citizens who are with the dolls get very much excited and wish to do something harmful to Thurg’s health, although some of the dolls do not seem to mind, at that, and this causes Thurg to slug several of these prominent citizens kerbowie on the bean.

  Miss Missouri Martin commences to look seriously annoyed and she comes over to our table and says like this to Eugene Edmonton:

  “Mr Edmonton, I must ask you to take your friend out of here as quick as you can say scat, and maybe quicker. He is not refined,” she says, “and the Sixteen Hundred Club is such a club that is refined at all times.”

  Now Miss Missouri Martin is an old doll who loves nothing better than to stick her nose into other people’s business, but she is a nice old skate, at that, and I figure that if Eugene Edmonton tells her all about the whole cat-hop she will help him to do a heroic deed so that Miss Paulette Patrick will love him.

  But before Eugene Edmonton can explain anything, Miss Paulette Patrick finishes her dance, and Thurg also finishes lamping the rubies in the Sixteen Hundred Club, and commences lamping Miss Paulette Patrick instead, and it is clear to one and all that what he sees impresses him no little.

  So Thurg steps up to Miss Paulette Patrick, and he says like this: “Thurg like. You Thurg woman now.”

  Well, Miss Paulette Patrick hauls off and gives Thurg a right hook to the jaw, but of course this is no more than a flea bite to Thurg. He picks Miss Paulette Patrick up and tosses her over his shoulder like a sack of corn, and heads for the door.

  Naturally, Miss Paulette Patrick commences shrieking more than somewhat, and Miss Missouri Martin is yowling like a whole barrel-full of cats, and when Miss Paulette Patrick sees Eugene Edmonton sitting there she yells, “Eugene! Save me! Save me!”

  So Eugene Edmonton grabs a bottle of champagne and biffs Thurg over the noggin with it, so that the bottle breaks and champagne showers all over the customers at the Sixteen Hundred Club, which arouses their indignation, but Thurg is not inconvenienced at all, and goes on out to where the cab is waiting.

  Now when Thurg gets outside he slings Miss Paulette Patrick across the cab horse, draws his sword and cuts the harness, jumps up behind her and digs his heels in, so Thurg and the horse and Miss Paulette Patrick commence tearing down the street and out of sight.

  Eugene Edmonton calls another cab, and yells to the hackie, “Follow that horse!” and we all get in, but I am betting plenty of six to five that we do not catch Thurg, because our horse has to pull the cab with Eugene Edmonton and me, and Spanish John and Little Isadore, while Thurg’s horse has only to carry Thurg and Miss Paulette Patrick.

  But if I have a bet down I will lose, for we are not going more than a few blocks when we see Thurg’s horse standing by the sidewalk, and Thurg has Miss Paulette Patrick over his shoulder again, and is staring into the window of Rosenberg the jeweller’s, where there are always very nice rings and bracelets and items such as rich guys love to give their dolls.

  And when we come up to Thurg he points into the window and says, “Eye of God.”

  And I see in the middle of the window a ruby all by itself on a velvet cushion, and this is such a ruby as I never see before. If a doll wears such a ruby she will have a hard time lifting her neck off of the floor.

  So when Thurg sees Eugene Edmonton he hands Miss Paulette Patrick over to him and says, “Hold Thurg woman.”

  Then he takes a run at the window and smashes the glass with his head, and all hell breaks loose.

  Miss Paulette Patrick is still screeching up a storm, and Rosenberg’s burglar alarm starts blasting out, and citizens start running from every which way to see what is going on.

  Thurg steps in and grabs the Eye of God and hides it away in a little pouch hanging from his belt. I am thinking that I might remove some of the rings and bracelets from among the smashed glass in the window, when I see a couple of cops tearing down the street, so I stay where I am and have nothing to do with the rings and bracelets whatsoever, as I do not wish the cops to put the old sleeve on me.

  Then Thurg turns to Eugene Edmonton and says, “Now I go. Give Thurg woman.”

  Now all this time Miss Paulette Patrick has her arms tight round Eugene Edmonton’s neck, and she is shrieking, “No! No!” and other similar expressions, and it is clear to one and all that she is not in favour of going anywhere with Thurg.

  So Eugene Edmonton stands between Miss Paulette Patrick and Thurg, and I am thinking that I would not like to be in his place, for such a guy as stands in Thurg’s way is likely to find himself flattened into the sidewalk.

  Then Eugene Edmonton says to Thurg like this: “This my woman. Me Thurg friend. Thurg not take his friend’s woman.”

  Thurg stands there and thinks about this, and from his face I can see that thinking is not something he does very much, or maybe not at all.

  Then Thurg shakes his head and says, “No. This Thurg woman,” and gives Eugene Edmonton a punch in the snoot with a fist the size of a piledriver.

  The punch drops Eugene Edmonton, and Miss Paulette Patrick kneels on the sidewalk beside him and takes his head in her lap. She is sobbing plenty, and she says to Thurg like this:

  “You have killed him, you big trambo!”

  Thurg is looking much displeased when Miss Paulette Patrick calls him a big trambo. He draws his sword, and lets out a roar like a lion calling for its mate.

  But before he can grab Miss Paulette Patrick, there is a light like twinkly blue stars in Rosenberg’s window, and suddenly a guy is standing there, among the broken glass and the diamonds.

  He is an old geezer with long white hair and beard, and he wears a blue robe with stars on it, and a long pointy hat, and he carries a staff in one hand.

  He strides out of the window onto the sidewalk, and he points the long staff at Thurg, and he says, “Thurg! Sheathe thy sword! Can I not take mine eyes off thee for two minutes without thou quittest thy proper dimension and troublest these good folk?”

  Now these words are highly impolite, and I am expecting that Thurg will give the old geezer a good poke in the stomach with his sword. Instead his mouth drops open and his eyes bug out, and he looks like nothing more than a Bismarck herring.

  He waves the sword about, but it is a feeble wave, at that, and he says, “Alphazor! Let Thurg alone. Thurg find Ey
e of God.”

  Well, then I realize that the old geezer is nobody but the evil wizard Alphazor, but I wish to say that he does not look evil to me, or anyway, not much. He bows to us all, and he says like this:

  “Good people, forgive my servant his discourtesy. I will remove him immediately. Thurg, follow me!”

  This statement is surprising to one and all, as nobody ever calls us “good people” before. But Thurg, instead of obeying the evil wizard Alphazor, jumps onto the cab horse, whacks it over the rump with the flat of his sword, and skedaddles lickety-split down the street and away.

  The evil wizard Alphazor raises his staff, and a bolt of lightning flashes out of the end, but Thurg is going so fast that the evil wizard Alphazor misses him and only fuses a fire hydrant.

  “Excuse me,” says the evil wizard Alphazor, and he takes off after Thurg, with sparks spitting out of the end of his staff, and I am quite astonished to see that his feet are six inches off the ground, and all around him are little twinkly blue stars.

  And he vanishes down the street, and we do not see him or Thurg again.

  Now Eugene Edmonton is by no means killed, and as Thurg and the evil wizard Alphazor disappear, he sits up and says to Miss Paulette Patrick as follows:

  “I am sorry,” says Eugene Edmonton, “that I do not do a heroic deed for you.”

  “Oh, Eugene!” says Miss Paulette Patrick. “I do not like heroic deeds, for I see now they are nothing but the phonus bolonus. A girl can be greatly inconvenienced by taking part in such events. I do not wish a knight in shining armour any more. I wish for such a guy as will take me dancing, and maybe buy me a diamond bracelet now and then.”

  And then she hauls off and gives Eugene Edmonton a big kiss ker-splat right in the smush.

  Now this kiss revives Eugene Edmonton more than somewhat, so he gets up and helps Miss Paulette Patrick into the cab for a little private guzzling.

 

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