"Paul Di Filippo - Weeping Walls" - читать интересную книгу автора (Di Filippo Paul)

WEEPING WALLS TO FACE FIRST COMPETITOR
Lisa scanned the article with growing rage that wiped away her mask once again. Reac
the end, she exclaimed, "Those scum-sucking bastards! They've ripped off all our tradem
features. 'Sadness Fences,' my sweet white ass! Even their name's actionable. Our lawyers
be all over them like ticks on a Connecticut camper by this afternoon."
Jake took the paper back. "I don't know, Lisa. I get a bad feeling over this one. Did you
who's backing them?"
"TimWarDisVia. So what? You're scared of a conglomerate whose name sounds li
neurological disease?"
"That's a lot of money and power to go up againstтАФ"
"I don't give a fuck! We have legal precedence on our side. I invented this whole con
five years ago. Everyone knows that. Before me and Weeping Walls, this industry didn't
exist. Grief was left to fucking amateurs!"
"Granted. But you had to expect competition sooner or later."
"Maybe you're right. Maybe we've been getting complacent. This could be good for us.
us to kick things up a notch."
"How?"
"I don't know. But I'll think of something. Meanwhile, I've got to keep all the p
spinning. What's next on my schedule?"
Jake consulted his Palm Pilot XII. "There's a new wall going up right here in town an
from now. Did you want to attend the opening ceremonies?"
"What's the occasion?"
"Employee shooting yesterday at the downtown post office."
"That's handy. How many dead?"
"Three."
"Sure, I'll go. With that low number of deaths the media coverage should be thin. I
think I could handle the stress from the aftermath of a full-scale massacre today. Plus
nearby, and I haven't been to one of our openings in a month, since that schoolyard slaughte
"We could certainly plan your appearances better if we could only remove the ran
factor from our businessтАФ"
Lisa stood up, smoothing her skirt. "No need for you to be cynical, too, Jake. I've got
angle completely covered."
Following his superior out of her office, Jake asked, "What's Danny doing these days?"
Lisa sighed. "Same as always. Sacrificing himself for his art. It gets mighty old, Jake."
"Is he making any money yet?"
"Not so you could notice."
"Any luck convincing him to come to work here?"
"Not likely. He swears he'd kill himself first. He'd have to get pretty desperate. Or els
have to offer him some unbelievable deal."
"You two are such opposites, I'm amazed you're still together."
 "I am a pistol in the sack, honey. And Danny's hung more impressively than Abe Linc
assassins."
"Oh, I don't doubt any of that for one blessed minute, sugar."

'Could I hear from the kazoos again, please?"
Danny Simmons, his gangly limbs poised awkwardly as if he were only minding
temporarily until their real owner returned, sat in the front row of the shabby theater, direc
his motley troupe on the bare stage. He addressed a quartet of actors situated stage left,
like harlequins, and standing with kazoos poised at their lips. Before the kazoo-players c
comply with the polite request, however, Danny was interrupted by a large-bosomed y