"FWLS43" - читать интересную книгу автора (A Future We'd Like to See)

"AGAIN?!" Chuck asked, rubbing his sore midsection.

"Yeah, again," I said, ditching my usual cheery tone.
"Surprise. Word has it you're due back on tour soon, and darn
it, it's just not the SAME without music and singing."

"More mayhem," Chuck groaned. "Yeah, well, expect to see me
again. I'm sick of this."

"Actually, odds are we'll be parting ways now," I said,
lighting up a cig. "They had me throw a will-switch and install
a patch. Here, take my scalpel."

Chuck took it, confused.

"Alright, now slit your wrists. Or your neck. Or cut your
dick off for all I care. G'wan, I won't stop you."

Chuck went for his wrists, but his instrument of cutting and
healing stopped just short.

"Can't, can you?" I laughed, coughing on the smoke. "Will-
switch. You can't take yourself out of the picture anymore."

Chuck yelled, chucking (heh) the scalpel at me. I ducked.

"Don't make me recite the hippocratic oath, kid. I just do
what I'm told."

Chuck cursed, then grabbed his pants and stormed out of the
operating room.

*

"Alright, how did he do it THIS time?" I asked, rolling my
eyes. It wasn't even funny anymore. It was like the camel gag
in Ishtar at this point.

"Your will-switch worked," the corporate guy said. (Funny,
I still don't know his name...) "So he got one of his pals to
kill him."

"Murder. Neat, efficient. I've got to admire this guys'
determination. Alright, roll the cadaver in."

They pulled in a very large jar.

"Where's the rest?"

"That's all that's left," the boy said. "His friend