"FWLS61" - читать интересную книгу автора (A Future We'd Like to See) "Okay," she said, uncapping a pen and scribbling her name
backwards on his head. "Now you can see it right in mirrors." "Thanks!" he said, before the backstage guys noticed him and drug him off. Our agent walked up, grinning and waving his arms. "Take! The take's good!" he said. "We've made two million in album sales around the galaxy. You're getting a lot of airplay. Mind doing C'atel stadium tonight?" "What?" Jack asked. "No problem," I said. "Here's your cut for royalties," he said, flashing a green temporary credit chip with many zeroes on it at us, and handing it to Jack. "Transfer it among yourselves as you see fit. To the top, baby! You're going to the top! See ya tonight at seven." Jack eyed the figure on the card, as the agent retreated. "Matt, pinch me," he requested. So I did. "Ow," he said. "Okay, so this is real. Did we really just make this many credits for improvising four splatters of sound?" "Splatters! Good word choice, Jack. You're getting better at this lunacy stuff. Yeah, it's true. I wonder what I'll buy with my cut." "I'm gonna get a new car!" Jack beamed. "I want a doughnut," Franny said. "Me, maybe I'll buy enough raspberry jam to fill the school and then do just that," I mused. "Or maybe I'll just give it to Save the Lemurs." * Our second concert. Packed house, C'atel Stadium. Word got around really quickly about our untitled band with the nameless four track CD, and soon everybody had a copy. The stadium was awash in fans that had tried to dress in our early morning, thrown on regalia; emulating the band in any way they could. Some sported fake glasses that matched Frannies. Many had lego bricks or fantasy novels. "Gang's all here," I noted, looking around the curtain. "This gets more fun by the minute. Hey, Franny? Go play |
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