"John DeChancie - Skyway 2 - Red Limit Freeway" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dechancie John)

weren't any new business. The bloody stupid meeting was adjourned and we all got drunk as bloody
skunks." Brother Finch sat down heavily.
"I thank Brother Finch for that succinct, bare-to-the-bones summation of the salient developments of the
last meeting. Do I have a motion to accept Brother Finch's report as it stands?"
"I so move!"
"I second the motion."
"The motion has been made and seconded to read Brother Finch's report into the record without
emendation. May I now assume that the membership will assent to do so without a vote? Are there any
objections?"
Someone stood up. "I object to the minutes of the last meeting being exactly the same as the minutes of
the preceding meeting, and the one before that. In fact, they're always the same damn minutes!"
Fitzgore raised an imperious eyebrow. "Do you take issue with the contents of Brother Finch's report?"
"No, the report is accurate as it stands. I merely object to his lack of originality and literary style."
"It is not Brother Finch's duty to be original, but to record the facts accurately and without bias!" Fitzgore
bellowed. He took a deep breath. "And as for style, I think Brother Finch's prose is almost Homeric in its
brilliant use of epithet."'
"Almost what?"
"What the hell's an epaulette?"
"At any rate," Fitzgore continued airily, "your objection is overruled."
"This is not a court of law. I demand that my objection be entered in the record."
"So be it," Fitzgore acceded. "Let it be noted in the record that Brother MacLaird has objected to
Brother Finch's literary style, or lack thereof."
"I ain't got a bloody pencil," Brother Finch said. Someone threw a pencil at him. He caught it neatly,
snapped it in two between thumb and forefinger, and threw it back.
"Who the hell are these weirdos?" Sam said.
"Is there any old business?" Fitzgore asked.
"I go' a boil on me bum!"
"Any new business?"
"I still go' a boil on me bum!" Laffs.
"I move we adjourn!" someone shouted.
"Since no new business has been brought up by the membership, I would like to call the following matter
to the membership's attention, if I may be permitted."
"According to the rules of procedure, the Acting-President must always entertain a motion to adjourn
from any member!"
"Not," Fitzgore retorted, "when said Acting-President can beat said member's arse to a bloody pulp any
time he so desires."
"You and what regiment of the Home Guard?" Cheers for the Home Guard.
"This matter can be settled later, but as for now. . ."
"Outside in five minutes, Fitzgore."
"I will be honored," Fitzgore acknowlodQed. "As I was saying-"
"Oh, not again. Last time they were to snockered they couldn't see to swing at one another."
"As I was saying!" Fitzgore roared. Then he cleared his throat and wiped his forehead with a sleeve,
"Brothers and Sisters," he said quietly. "It is not often ... rather I should say, it is unprecedented for us to
have among us as a guest.. ." He paused for effect as heads turned, searching the room. ". . . a figure
of-how shall I put it?-A figure of such epic stature. But that is the case."
"Who?" someone wanted to know, but many eyes were on me.
"The Skyway," Fitzgore continued in stentorian tone, "abounds with legends, myths, tall tales, apocrypha,
and general foolishness, all of which are to be taken with a grain of salt, if not the whole bloody cellar and
the bloody mine it came from."
"I think im going to puke," Sam declared.