Nymphomation(93)

Jazir was shaking his head from side to side. ‘Please,’ he was whispering. ‘Please don’t let it…’

‘I know what’s bothering him,’ said Daisy’s father. ‘When Dopejack was bitten by the Joker, I think he would have got all the knowledge the Joker owned. This would include the secrets of the dominoes. Who Mister Million was. His real name…’

‘But that’s OK,’ said Daisy. ‘He said it was Adam Jagger. Another kid from Hackle’s class. Isn’t it?’

‘I’m trying to remember this kid,’ said her father. ‘Adam Jagger? There’s nothing there, no weight. He certainly wasn’t a major player.’

‘Well he is now,’ said Joe, getting the connection. ‘No wonder Frank always wore that stupid hat and the dark glasses.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Daisy.

‘Frank wasn’t being cool. He was hiding himself. Right, Jaz?’

Daisy got it then, and all she could do was look at Jazir and want to hold him, knowing that holding him wouldn’t do any good.

Jazir finally had to laugh. ‘Mister Million is Adam Jagger, is Frank Scenario. I always wondered what his real name was.’

At that moment the young Miss Sayer came back on screen. She was staring at Jazir, and the poor boy was drawn to her eyes, to her eyes full of pain. ‘GET ME OUT!’ Can a line of type scream? Jazir felt it. But what to do about it? The wings unfurling, invisible.

Daisy’s father knew what to do; down on his knees, he went, praying to the image, pulling out his old domino.

‘Miss Sayer…Miss Sayer…’

‘Oh, it’s you, Five-Four. Shall we begin?’





Play to win


The Joker bit Nigel and Nigel bit Dopejack and Dopejack bit Benny and Benny bit Hackle, and all five of them got a call that night. It was Joe Crocus, asking to speak to Max…

This is Max.’

‘Oh, sorry. Joe here. Didn’t recognize your voice.’

‘What do you want?’

‘I know what’s happening, Max.’

‘Nothing’s happening.’

‘Don’t do it, Max. Don’t pass it on.’

‘Stay out of this, Joe. I…’

‘Max! We can get you help—’

‘I don’t need help. I’m dealing with it. Don’t mess with me, Joe. Don’t come anywhere near me. This is mine.’

‘Max!’

Joker Bone slammed down the phone, and how could Max resist.

Down in the cellar, he worked for an hour on the computer, trying to add the Theseus equations to the maze. Every attempt met with a crash, as the Joker worked against him. Reaching into the program, corrupting it, protecting his home.

Max gave up. His head was buzzing with rival info.

There was only one way to end it. One real way. The bifurcation less travelled. Go manual. Kill.

Midnight on the Thursday, as the next day began, Maximus Hackle walked over the boundary of the House of Chances. The blurbs parted to let him through, forming a beating phalanx of breath and message.

Play to win! Play to win! Play to win!

Hackle walked through this dark fluttering tunnel, totally at ease.

At the giant dominoed doors of the building, Chief Executive Crawl was waiting to greet him. ‘Welcome, Professor. Right this way. Mister Million is expecting you.’

Hackle walked through the doors, smiling.

Final chances.





Play to win





Game 46


‘Twas nine-ish, and the slimy hordes did clack and gamble in the wave. All dotty were the game-parades, and the telebox did crave. ‘Beware the Dominock, my daught, the pips that on young chances feed! Beware the House of Bone and shun the Mister Millipede!’ She took her blurbfly vert in hand – long time the Cookie Luck she sought – so played the game in ones and twos, and threes and fours, five, six and nought. And, as in blankish gaze she swayed, the Dominock, with spots for eyes, came dancing from the House of Bone, his prey to hypnotize. One, two! Three, four! And in and out, the blurb did advertise. Five, six and nought! She cut it dead, and went off running with the prize. ‘And hast thou won the double-six? My favourite lucky bleeder! O dotty day! The bones to play! You’ve become the Millipeder!’

‘Twas nine-ish, and the spotty numbs did gamb and dumble in the games. All pippy were the domisums, and the telebox in flames.

Game 46. Fathers sang this song to daughters; mothers to sons, using jangling domino toys to lull their babes to sleep.

The people of good Mazechester, wild-eyed and lost.

Allow them play.

Blurbvert surrender; let the messages come. Singing time.

The burgercops, searching for clues and easiness? Allow them play. The House of Chances, the Mister Million, the minions and the millions? Allow them play. The homeless and the aimless? Allow them play. Tommy Tumbler and the gorgeous Cookie Luck? Allow them play.