The Hollow Chocolate Bunnies of the Apocalypse

'You're barred,' said Tinto. 'Out of my bar.'

'He was only showing me his weapon,' said the dolly. 'No need to go all rusty-headed, Tinto.'

'Drink for the lady,' said Jack. 'And have one yourself, barlord.'

‘Jack,' said Eddie, 'perhaps we should be off about our business now, even in our present condition. It's really important business, remember?'

'You're just jealous,' said Jack, trousering his weapon and putting his arm about the dolly's slender waist. 'Because I'm such a big hit with the ladies.'

‘Jack, get a grip of yourself

'I have a grip of myself Jack took a grip of himself. It was a most intimate grip; not the kind of grip that you usually take of yourself in public.

'Get him out, Eddie,' said Tinto. 'Take him home.'

'I don't have a home.' Jack swayed about, supporting himself on the dolly. 'But I will have, a big home. A palace. I have come to this city to seek my fortune. And I will. I'll have a palace and I'll be a prince.'

'Prince?' Eddie performed a most remarkable, and probably once in a lifetime only, backflip, which resulted in his bum landing squarely upon the barstool.

'That was impressive,' said Tinto. And others all around and about made free with applause.

'I said prince,' said Eddie. 'What is prince all about?'

'Nothing,' said Jack in a sulky tone.

'Yes it is. Why did you say that you want to be a prince?'

'There's nothing wrong with having ambitions.'

'Not if they're feasible.'

'I don't care about her,' said Jack. 'I don't.'

'But I'm nice,' said the dolly. 'I have lovely hair; it gets longer if you turn the little key in my back.'

'No thanks,' said Jack, withdrawing his arm from the dolly's waist. 'But I wasn't talking about you. I "was talking about her. I don't care about her.'

'Who is this her?' Eddie asked.

'Just someone. I don't want to talk about it.'

'It's that Jill, isn't it?' said Eddie. 'The girl at Madame Goose's. Did you do it with her, Jack?'

'None of your business.'

'You did. He did, Tinto. Jack did it with a girl at Madame Goose's.'

'I once did it with a clockwork mouse at Madame Goose's,' said Tinto. 'But I was young then and rather drunk. No one's going to hold that against me, are they?'

'Urgh!' went all and sundry, who evidently were.

'I was drunk!' said Tinto. 'Come on!'

'I once did it with a potted plant,' said Eddie. 'I was really drunk that night, I can tell you.'

'Stop it,' said Jack. 'She doesn't mean anything to me. It's not as if I'm in love with her or anything.'

‘Jack's in love,' said Tinto.

'I'm not,' said Jack.

'He is,' said Eddie.

'I'm not]' said Jack.

'You're drunk,' said Eddie.

'I'm notl' said Jack.

'Are too.'

'Are not.'

'Are.'

Jack stared at Eddie. And it was a stare, rather than a squint. 'You know what,' he said, 'I'm not drunk any more.'

'Drunk yourself sober,' said Eddie. 'Hoorah!'

'What about you?'

'It's draining down to my legs,' said Eddie. 'You'll have to carry me for a bit.'

'Do you want to come back to my house?' said the blondie-headed doll. 'I could show you my publicity pictures; I'm hoping to get a job at Toy City TV.'

'Er, no, thank you very much,' said Jack. 'Eddie and I have important business elsewhere.'

'Most important,' said Eddie. 'Are you ready for it, partner?'

'Certainly am,' said Jack.

'Then let's go,' said Eddie.

And go they did.

As almost sober as.

24

It was nearing midnight now. Toy City was still. Remarkably still, really. But then, folk were keeping off the streets after dark. There was a killer on the loose. And the fact that this killer had performed all the killings so far during the hours of daylight had nothing to do with anything. Killers always strike around midnight. Everyone knows that.

'I think I behaved rather badly back there,' said Jack. 'Sorry, Eddie, if I embarrassed you.'

'No problem,' said Eddie. 'It's as sweet as. But you're in love, Jack, aren't you? With this Jill.'

'It was my first time.' Jack put Eddie down and relieved himself in an alleyway. 'I wasn't thinking straight.'

'There's nothing wrong with young love.' Eddie seeped a bit into the gutter. 'We've all been there and done that.'

'You've been in love?'

'Don't be so surprised. Bears love too. Everything loves.'

'Who was she, Eddie?’ Jack zipped himself into decency.

Eddie sighed. 'She was beautiful. An Anders Empress. Amber eyes, vertically stitched nose in black silk yarn, beige felt paw-pads, patented tilt-growler that literally purred when you leaned her backwards, and an all-over golden mohair plush.'

'Sounds very nice,' said Jack as he tucked Eddie once more under his arm and resumed his trudging. 'Especially the patented tilt-growler.'

'She came from a very respectable family. Her great-grandparents were the bears that Goldilocks shacked up with. They organised the original Teddy Bears' picnic and owned the garden that all bears go walkies round.'

Jack looked down at Eddie. 'What a load of old rubbish,' he said. 'And there was me believing you and thinking that you were going to tell me this really poignant story about love lost and everything.'

'Fair enough,' said Eddie. 'But she was a posh bear and she was up for it. But I lost my nerve, had a few drinks before I went round to see her. Humped that potted plant by mistake. It didn't lead to a lasting relationship.'

'Jill is very beautiful,' said Jack, in a most wistful tone.

'I could tell you all about her,' said Eddie. 'It's a sad story. But now's not the time; we're almost at the toymaker's house.'

'Are you up for it then?’ Jack set Eddie down.

‘I’m all but pooing myself,' said Eddie Bear. 'I greatly fear the toymaker, as you know. And now more than ever. So remember what you said you'd do. Engage him in casual conversation and subtly draw him into a theological discussion. Then put my theory to him in a hypothetical manner, which will not imply any implicit knowledge on our part as to his potential status as a deity.'

'I said that?'

'You did. Do you think you can do it?'

'Of course,' said Jack. 'Trust me.'

The two trudged up the gravel drive, Jack's trudge making big trudge sounds and Eddie's making lesser. When they reached the big front door, Jack reached out for the knocker.

'You again,' said Peter. 'This won't do. Clear off.'

'We have to see the toymaker.' Jack's hand hovered near the knocker. 'We don't have time to bandy words with you.'

'Bandy words?' Peter laughed. 'Don't come that high and mighty talk with me. The toymaker isn't home. He's gone away.'

'The lights are on,' said Eddie.

'That's to discourage burglars,' said Peter. 'If you leave your lights on, burglars think you're at home; everyone knows that.'

'Even burglars?'

'No, of course not. Burglars don't know that. How would they know that? Who'd be likely to tell them?'

'I'm sure I wouldn't,' said Eddie. 'What about you, Jack?'

'I wouldn't tell them.' Jack's hand moved closer to the knocker.

'But there's no one home,' said Peter.

'We're burglars,' said Eddie. 'How are we supposed to know that?'

'Burglars?' Peter's face took on that horrified look once more. 'Burglars! Help! Help! Alarm! Alarm!' And he took to knocking most loudly.