The Hollow Chocolate Bunnies of the Apocalypse

'Turn her over, Jack. Let's have a good look at her.'

'No way. I'm not touching that.'

'Get a grip, partner. We're fearless detectives, are we not?'

'No, we are not. Look at me, Eddie. I'm shaking all over and my trenchcoat is covered in black goo. My stomach's caving in and look at the state of my fedora.’ Jack stooped to pick up his fedora. The falling cleaver had taken its crown clear off.

'The new open-topped look,' said Eddie. 'It might catch on.'

'I'm not touching her,' said Jack, and he folded his shaky arms and made a shaky-headed sulky face.

'Use your foot then.'

Jack sighed and with difficulty nudged the body over with his foot.

'Fine big bosoms,' said Eddie. 'Though rather too scrawny in all the other places for my taste.'

'Stop it, please.'

‘Jack,' said Eddie.

'Eddie?' said Jack.

‘Jack, those fine big bosoms...'

'I told you to stop that.'

'Those fine big bosoms are moving.'

'Wah!' went Jack; 'Wah!' always served him well at such times. 'She's still alive. Shoot her again, Eddie. But wait until I turn away.'

'She's not alive,' said Eddie, 'she's... urgh, look at that!'

Jack looked at that. 'Urgh,' he agreed. 'What is that?'

'It's spiders.' Eddie backed away. 'They're coming out of her, everywhere. Let's go, Jack. I don't want to look at this.'

Jack took one more look, then wished he hadn't. The corpse was now a heaving mass of spiders. They spilled from her ragged neck hole, and out of belt holes and seams and here and there and all over everywhere.

'This can't happen.’ Jack gawped and gasped and backed away. 'She can't be full of spiders. What is this, Eddie? What's going on here?'

Eddie backed away and cocked an ear. 'Do you hear what I hear?' he asked.

Jack tried to cock an ear too, but there are certain things that bears can do and lads just can't.

And vice versa, of course.

'No,' said Jack. 'What?'

'The bells of approaching police cars,' said Eddie. 'I think the cabbie must have regained consciousness and called the police.'

'Ah,' said Jack. 'And you don't think we should just stay here and talk to the policemen? Explain things? Tell them what we know?'

'I'm not keen,' said Eddie. 'I think we should head over to Miss Muffett's at the hurry-up; she's next on the list. We don't know how many of these spider-women things there are. I can't believe that this one could move so fast as to kill Tommy Tucker, then head across town and kill the curator and still get here before us. There could be another at Miss Muffett's now.'

'You're right. Back door?'

'Back door,' agreed Eddie.

They skirted the house and slipped quietly away.

'So where does Miss Muffett live?' Jack asked as he trudged along upon wobbly legs.

'Not too far. Let's hope we can get there before our criminal mastermind dispatches another of his killers. He surely won't know yet that we just popped off this one.'

'But what do you think they are, Eddie? They're not human, and they're not toys. So what's left?'

'Only one thing I can think of and I don't want to think about that. Do you still have the Maguffin?'

Jack patted his pocket. It was a sticky pocket, all black goo'd. 'Still have it,' he said. 'And one question. Before we went into that kitchen, you mentioned something the curator said to you. Something you said made no sense.'

'I did,' said Eddie. 'Turn left here.'

Jack turned left. 'It's more fun in a car,' he said. 'But what were you going to say? It was something about the copyrights on the nursery rhymes.'

'Yes it was.' Eddie's little fat teddy bear legs were tiring. 'Walk slower,' he said.

Jack walked slower.

'The copyrights,' said Eddie. 'When I asked about the order they were registered in, the curator told me: it was the dates that didn't make sense.'

'Go on,' said Jack.

'Well, the copyright on Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall. That was the first one ever registered. How long ago do you reckon that was?'

Jack shrugged and the crown of his fedora fell off. Jack stooped, picked it up and replaced it on his head.

'You should throw that hat away,' said Eddie.

'No chance,' said Jack. 'You can't be a proper detective without a fedora. But I don't know about the copyright; maybe thirty or forty years ago, I suppose.'

'That would seem about right,' said Eddie. 'But it's wrong. Humpty Dumpty: The Nursery Rhyme was registered three hundred and fifty years ago.'

'That's ridiculous,' said Jack. 'Was it another Humpty Dumpty? This Dumpty's great-great-great-grandfather?'

'There's only ever been one Humpty Dumpty: the one who got boiled in his swimming pool.'

'But no one can live for three hundred and fifty years.'

'Toy Town grew into Toy City,' said Eddie. 'But I don't know when it did. It's always been the city to me and I've been here for a long time. I was Bill Winkie's bear. I'd never thought before about how long I'd been his bear, but it must have been a very, very long time.'

'What, you're telling me that you might be three hundred years old?' Jack stopped short and Eddie bumped into him.

'I don't know,' said Eddie, who, having tumbled, now struggled up. 'No one ever really keeps track of time here. Things are always the same. Nothing ever changes. We just go on and on. Until we fall to pieces. If you're a toy, that is.'

'It's all nonsense,' said Jack. 'Three hundred and fifty years old! But then, in this nightmare of a city where nothing makes any sense, who can say? Are we there yet?'

'Yes,' said Eddie. 'We are. But we're not.'

'Well, that doesn't make any sense, so I suppose it's about right.'

'No, Jack, we should be there, but we're not, because it isn't here.'

'What isn't here?'

'Miss Muffett's house. It's gone.'

'What do you mean? It's been pulled down?'

'No, I mean it's gone, just gone.'

'A house can't be just gone; where should it be?'

'There,' said Eddie. 'There.'

There was a bit of a hillside with some well-established trees and some equally well-established bushes.

'There's not been a house there in ages,' said Jack. 'If there ever was one.'

'There was,' said Eddie. 'I was here last week, on the Tour of the Stars' Homes bus. It's one of my favourite outings. The house was here. Right here.'

'You must have got it wrong. Houses do not simply vanish.'

'I never implied that there was anything simple about it. But this house has vanished.'

'You think so?'

'I know so.'

'Oh.'

22

'Listen, Eddie,' said Tinto, 'much as I like you, and don't get me wrong, I do like you, I can't keep giving you credit. I'm trying to run this bar at a profit. That's how business is done.'

'I know how business is done.' Eddie comfyed himself on a barstool. 'But Jack and I have just been through a very traumatic experience. We both need beer. Lots of beer. You'll get your money when we've solved the case..."

'Cases.' Jack uncomfyed himself on the barstool next to Eddie.

'Cases, then. You'll get your money, Tinto.'

'He might not,' said Jack. 'If we can't prevent the rest of the PPPs getting butchered, there won't be anyone left to cough up the rest of the money that was promised to Bill.'

'Stop that,' said Eddie.

'Only a thought,' said Jack.

'I saw you two on TV this morning,' said Tinto. 'I was going to mention it when you were in earlier, but it didn't seem to be the appropriate time.'