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

"I can't," he said. "Because YOU keep patching me up."

"Alright, point. So what do I do? If you aren't walking
out of here in a day, chipper and bright, I lose payment. That
ain't good. I could lose my connections for screwing up. I've
got a career to think of."

The kid thought this over. "Alright," he said. "I need a
way out of my career so I can knock myself off in a civilized
manner and not be jerked back. What are the terms of your
contract... exactly?"

*

So Chuck walked out of the operating room two hours later,
grinning like a maniac. I was too, but I was a maniac to begin
with. Watch carefully, kids. Opportunities like this are rare
and must be savored like fine wine.

"Are you all set to get back on tour, Mr. Corbins?" the
company slimeball asked.

"Yup," he said. "Let's go."

"You may want to know," I said, "That Chuckie here may not
be quite up to the specs you like."

The corp guys paused.

"See, he hired me to make a few alterations," I said.
"Standard stuff. A few will switches flipped, a few parts of the
brain dealing with music permanently scrambled... the usual."

"What?" C.B. asked.

"I paid him to make me musically inept," Chuck grinned. "I
can't even sing anymore. Want to hear me do the third verse for
'Phlegm Messiah'? It's just awful."

"You... we PAID you to make sure he was alive and in good
condition!!!" the man screamed.

"He is! Can you breathe, Chuck? Good. As for condition,
drop and give me twenty, soldier! Seems healthy to me. As for
his skills, well, our contract didn't cover that."

"We refuse to pay you for damaged goods."

"Technically I didn't damage anything you cared about, but