"Mary A. Turzillo - Thumbkin, Caesar, Princess, and Troll" - читать интересную книгу автора (Turzillo Mary A)

tension. Would his plan work?
Troll grimaced. "I have to hand it to you, shorty." He rolled another
bill (which Thumbkin had counted on) and laid another line.
Thumbkin had a different kind of assembler ready and he dropped a pinch
of them into the line while Troll closed his eyes waiting for the rush.
The drug and the assembler reached Troll's nose and began their
transformation. His nose began to weave itself into a bright pink bungee cord.
One end was stuck to his face, the other to the hideous coffee table.
"Mwat nave nou none?" roared Troll. He tried to yank himself away,
dragging the coffee table around the room with his bungee-nose. He twisted and
rolled this way and that, but his struggle only resulted in wrapping his nose
around his neck three times. He clawed at his nose-necktie, bellowing like a
boar.
Thumbkin, straining every muscle he had, lifted the phone off the hook
and punched numbers.
***
"I don't know," said Princess. "I admit, seeing him like this kind of shoots
down his sex appeal. But isn't this a pretty cruel fate, even if he is a
rotten, no-good drug lord?"
"If you but say the word," said Thumbkin, "I will send other assemblers
to repair his damaged nose and face. Maybe even improve them."
"You certainly strike a hard bargain," she said thoughtfully, bouncing
Thumbkin on her palm. "I hardly know you. And you're -- well -- uh, not to my
scale."
"Oh, if you want me to, I'll set him free no matter what your decision
about dating me. Just say the word."
She looked relieved. "Well, that's big of you. Why don't you mail the
repair assemblers to his secretary? That way he won't come after you."
"I'm not worried," said Thumbkin. "He tried that before."
She smiled and held her hand out so that Thumbkin could climb up on her
shoulder. The two went to a nearby Mocha House and ordered a decaf iced cafe
voltaire with cinnamon sprinkles, which turned out to be a favorite for both
of them.
"I have to admit, I do admire your style," said Princess.
"And I yours. You had that big gorilla eating out of your hand, didn't
you?"
"My father never understood," she said. "I thought I could save Dick
Troll. I thought the love of a good woman would turn his harsh soul to
goodness. I love a challenge."
Thumbkin dragged the sugar container over to their cafe voltaire to use
as a step so he could dip out a portion in the thimble he always carried with
him. "I love this stuff! If I ever go crazy, stop me from designing assemblers
to turn Lake Erie into a sea of cafe voltaire!"
Princess gave him a serious look. "I'll keep that in mind."
"Listen to me," he said. "You don't have to make a commitment. I know I
won that game with your father, and then I dueled with your monster lover. But
you do what you want. You're a free woman."
She sat back and settled her cashmere sweater around her shoulders.
"Well, excuse me! It's really so darn flattering that you want me so much."
"I didn't mean that," said Thumbkin. "I want you more than anything in