"Robert Rankin - Brentford 05 - The Brentford Chainstore Mas" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rankin Robert)

something, or nothing. It can't be proved either way.'
The three ghost-hunters dismantled their equipment and carried it back to the Land Rover. Professor
Rawl keyed the ignition and they drove away into the night.

A tramp called Tony watched the tail-lights dim into the darkness. 'There you go, Tom,' he said to his
chum. 'I told you it was true, and now you've seen them for yourself. Three scientists they were, or so
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the old story goes, died of fright or something, they did, many years ago.'
His chum Tom coughed and spat into the night. 'You're drunk,' said he. 'I never saw a thing. Now come
inside, it's turning cold.'




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 FAIRY STORY
Once upon a time there were two men. An Irishman called John Omally, who was young and tall and dark
and handsome, and an elder called Old Pete, who was none of these things.
And it being lunchtime, these two stood at the bar counter of an alehouse discussing the ways of the world.
The ways of the world have long been a subject for discussion. Ever since there have been any ways of the
world, in fact. And an alehouse has always been a good place to discuss them.
'The ways of the world leave me oft-times perplexed,' said Old Pete, sipping rum.
John Omally nodded. 'Which ones in particular?' he asked.
"Well, you know that Mrs Bryant, who lives next door to me?'
'The one with the two-headed dog?'
'That's her.'
'And the very short dresses?'
That's her as well.'
'I know of her,' said Omally.
Well, last night her husband came home early

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from his shift at the windscreen wiper works to find an alien in bed with her.'
'An illegal alien?'
'No, a space alien, although I suppose they must be illegal also.'
'Sounds a bit of a tall one,' said Omally.
"Yes, he described him as tall, and young and dark and handsome.'
'Ahem,' said Omally. 'Doesn't sound that much like a space alien to me.'
'That's what I thought,' said Old Pete. 'Sounded more like an incubus in my opinion.'
'A what?
'An incubus. It's a sort of demon that takes on human form, creeps into the bedrooms of sleeping
women and does the old business.'
'The old business?'
'The old jigger-jig. My wife, God rest her soul, suffered from them something terrible while I was away
at the war. They used to appear in the shape of American servicemen back in those days.'
'Really?' said Omally. 'So you think Mrs Bryant was had by one of those?'
'I think it's more likely than a space alien. Don't you?'
Omally nodded. He could think of an even more likely explanation, one he could personally vouch for.
'So she told her husband that this bedroom intruder was a space alien, did she?'
'As soon as he regained consciousness. The bedroom intruder, as you put it, walloped him with a