"Norman Spinrad - Age Of Invention" - читать интересную книгу автора (Spinrad Norman)

"That's him," I said. "Roach the Artist. Very good Artist, you know. After all, he invented it."

"Well, what about that dreadful, dreadful creature?"

"Well, you know your friend Cockatoo-?

"Please, sweets!" shrieked Peacock. "Do not mention that thing Cockatoo in my presence again!
Cockatoo and I are on the outs. I don't know what I ever saw in him. He's gotten so unspeakably
butch."

Cockatoo was this . . . uh . . . friend of Peacock's . . . or was. They . . . uh . . . invented
something together. Nobody is quite sure what it was, but we've organized a Vice Squad, just in
case.

"Yeah," I muttered. "Well anyway, Cockatoo is paying Roach twenty bears to do a painting in his
cave. He says that having an Original Roach in his cave will make your cave look like . . . er . .
. `A positive sloth's den, hubby,' I think his words were."

"Oooooh!" shrieked Peacock. "Oooooh!" He began to jump around the cave, pounding his little fists
against the walls. "That monster! That veritable beast! Oooh, it's horrid, that's what it is! What
am I going to do, sweets, whatever am I going to do?"

"Well," I suggested, "Roach is my cousin, you know, and I do have some pull with him. I suppose I
could convince him to do a painting in your cave instead of Cockatoo's. Especially if you paid
thirty bears instead of twenty . . . ."

"Oh, would you, sweets? Would you really?"

"Well, I don't know. I do kind of like you, Peacock, but on the other hand . . . "

"Pretty, pretty, pretty please?"

I sighed heavily. "Okay, Peacock," I said. "You've talked me into it. "

So Peacock got his Original Roach for thirty bears. Next week, I went to see Cockatoo, and I told
him the story. I got him to pay forty bears. Forty and thirty is seventy. Which gave me seven. Not
bad for a couple hours' work. I better watch out, or someone'll invent income tax.

I saw Roach last week, the ingrate. He has moved to a bigger cave on the West Side of the
mountain. He has a fine new leopard skin and three new women. He has even invented the Havana
cigar, so he can have something expensive to smoke.

Unfortunately, he has discovered that he no longer needs me to make deals for him. His going price
is eighty bears a painting. I, like a dope, neglected to invent the renewable exclusive agency
contract. Can't invent 'em all, I suppose. Roach has become truly
insufferable, though. He now talks of "art" with a small "a" and "Bears" with a capital "B." He is
the first Philistine.

He is going to get his.