"Robert Rankin - The Hollow Chocolate Bunnies of the Apocalypse" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rankin Robert)

'And why "hah", you farmer?' asked the lad.

'Because, my tanned and wiry boy, you'll find no fortune there. Only doom awaits you in that direction.
Turn back now, say I. Return to the mother who weeps for you.'

'I have no mother,' said the lad. 'I am an orphan boy.'

'A little lost waif; my heart cries bloody tears.' The farmer mimed the wiping of such tears from the
region of his heart.

'Let not your heart weep for me.' The lad straightened his narrow shoulders and thrust out his chest тАФ
what little he had of a chest. 'I know how to handle myself.тАЩ

'Turn back,' advised the farmer. 'Return the way you came.'

The lad sighed deeply. 'And what is so bad about the city, then?' he asked.

'Where to start?' The farmer puffed out his cheeks. '-And where to end? So many evil things I've heard.'

'And have you ever been to the city yourself?'

'Me?'The farmer placed his hands upon his over-ample belly and gave vent to raucous sounds of mirth.

'And why now the raucous sounds of mirth?'

'Because what do I look like to you, my poor lost laddo?'

'You look like a big fat farmer, as it happens.'

'And what would a big fat farmer be doing in the city?'

'Trading produce, perhaps? This crad that flowers all around and about us in these fields that never
change.'

The farmer scratched his big fat head. 'And why would I want to trade my crad?'

'For money. To buy things.'

'What sort of things?'

'Food, perhaps?'

The farmer gave his big fat head a slow and definite shaking. 'You are indeed a mooncalf,' said he. 'I am
provided here with all the food that I need.'

'Other things then. Consumer durables, perhaps.'

'What?'
 'Consumer durables. I am not entirely sure what they are. But I am informed that the city holds them in
abundance. And I mean to acquire as many as I possibly can.'