"Jim Munroe - Flyboy Action Figure Comes With Gas Mask" - читать интересную книгу автора (Munroe Jim)

snow, waving a
book called *Games Zen Masters Play* .
"Go ahead, see if I care," I said cheerily. "Have a seat on the bed. Not
as comfy as this
chair here, no siree, but . . ."
"Shaddap," muttered Phil, flipping open his book. He had seen the chair
sitting out in
our neighbour's garbage too -- he'd seen it first -- but hadn't taken it
because he thought it
smelled of urine. But the smell must have been coming from something else,
because once in my
room it smelled of nothing. Phil claimed otherwise, naturally. He had been so
desperate for a
chair ever since, that he had been offering a lawn chair to guests.
"Mmmm-m!" I said, wiggling my bum.
Phil said nothing, his big-eyebrowed Korean face looking calm as he read
his book.
"Smells in here," he grunted after a few minutes.
"Smells of nothing but happy-bum-sitting-pleasure," I burbled. I turned
the page to
reveal a cross-section of a bee, illustrated in unlikely colours.
Another few minutes passed. "Urine."
"Sorry, no urine."
We were likely to spend the next few hours in this slow-motion argument.
But my flying
friend interceded.
"What the hell is wrong with that fly?!" said Phil, his teeth suddenly
bared in frustration.
"Loony," I said.
"I'm gonna kill it."
"Don't kill it. It's a visitor."
Phil closed his book and started tracking the fly.
"Isn't there some zen game you can play? To make you clear your mind
like the stream
in a forest or something?"
"The only zen game I'm learning is how to shoot lasers from my eyes to
fry stupid fly-
loving white boys." Phil got up from the bed and held the book like a weapon.
I leaped up from
the chair and opened the door.
"Flee, fly, flee! The evil Asian's going to crush you!"
The fly, beyond hearing, bounced against the wall three more times and
then *whack!*
The book permanently united it with my wall.
"Aw, look at all that blood, Phil!"
There was a splotch almost an inch round on my white, non-glossy-paint
wall. Phil
looked at his book with amazement. He flicked the fly into my little garbage
can. "There's a
tremendous amount of blood. How could a fly have that much blood?"