"Oltion-BeforeChristmas" - читать интересную книгу автора (Oltion Jerry)Mike snorted. "Ha! Well you lose, then, jerk-face. The new Bundy ads are done
and sitting in a pool of spilt milk in my briefcase." Penzley laughed even louder. "Ah, so that's it! Well maybe you should just throw the whole damned mess out the window, along with your washed-up career." "I think that's just what I'll do." "Good. Fuck you." "Fuck you too." Mike slammed the phone screen-first onto the table, but Penzley had beat him to the switch; his own image blanked out a fraction of a second before Michael's screen fell. "Aaarrrrggghhhhh!" Mike's growl was an animalistic, primal-scream-therapy-style exhalation of pent-up fury. He picked up the phone and hurled it through the window. The glass shattered wonderfully, and Mike's briefcase, still dripping milk and potting soil, widened the hole in the phone's wake. Sarah leaned out from the bedroom, dressed in only a light blue towel. "Hey, why don't you make some noise while you're at it?" Mike was breathing hard now, and grinning like an idiot. "Noise? You want noise? All right, I'll give you noise!" He grabbed the edge of the table and heaved it over, scattering to the floor the pile of books, magazines, and newsdisks, plus night. The reading material merely thumped, but the vase hit the edge of a chair and shattered with a satisfying crunch, and the floor shook when the table struck it. Mike shoved it on over into the Christmas tree, which went down in a shower of tinkling ornaments. Sarah applauded. "Feel better now?" "Yeah." Mike straightened, laughed, and stepped toward her, but his foot caught one of the shards of vase. "Ow!" He raised his foot and pulled out a long sliver of glass. Blood dripped to the carpet. "Oh, son of a bitch that hurts." Sarah winced in sympathetic agony. "Fun's over." "Yeah. Guess so." He limped down the hallway into the spare bedroom, where they kept the backspacer, leaving a trail of blood spots behind him. "Don't go back too far, okay ?" she said, batting her eyelashes and leaning out for a kiss as he passed. He blushed. "I won't." He gave her a quick kiss-- his foot hurt too much to put any real feeling into it -- stepped into the closet-sized booth in the spare bedroom, set the single dial in the waist-high control panel for twenty minutes, |
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