The Hollow Chocolate Bunnies of the Apocalypse

3

The moon, shining down upon the city, shone down also upon Jack, shone down upon the body of jack, that was lying strewn in an alleyway. The moon didn't care too much about Jack. But then, the moon didn't care too much about anything. Caring -wasn't in the moon's remit. The moon was just the moon, and on nights when there wasn't any cloud about, it just shone down, upon anything and everything really, it didn't matter what to the moon. The moon had seen most things before, and would surely see them again. And as for all the things that the moon hadn't seen, well, it would see them too, eventually. On nights when there wasn't any cloud about.

Not that it would care too much when it did.

It was a moon thing, not caring.

The moon couldn't help the way it was.

Jack lay, face down, in the bedraggled fashion of one who has been roughly struck down, rather than gently arranged. One who has been dragged and flung. As indeed Jack had.

He'd lain for several hours in this untidy and uncared-for state, and would probably have lain so for several hours more, had not something prodded and poked him back into consciousness.

This something was persistent in its prodding and poking. It prodded and poked until it had achieved its desired effect.

Jack awoke with a start, or a jolt, if you prefer, or a shock, if you prefer that. Jack had no particular preference. So Jack awoke with a start and a jolt and a shock. Jack awoke to find a big round face staring right up close and at him.

Jack cowered back and the big round face, governed by the laws of perspective, became a small round face. And in accordance with other laws regarding relative proportion, remained that way. Jack blinked his eyes and stared at the face. It was the face of a bear. A teddy bear. A knackered-looking teddy bear, with mismatched button eyes and a kind of overall raggedness that did not make it altogether appealing to behold.

The bear was wearing a grubby old trenchcoat.

'Bear.' Jack made limp-wristed pointings. 'Toy bear. What?'

'What?' asked the toy bear. 'What?'

'I'm dreaming.’ Jack smacked himself in the face. 'Ouch!' he continued. 'Oh and...'

'You're new to these parts, aren't you?' said the bear. He had that growly voice that one associates with toy bears. Probably due to the growly thing that they have in their stomachs, which makes that growly noise when you tip them forward. 'I'm Eddie, by the way. I'm the bear of Winkie.'

'The who?'

'The bear of Winkie. I'm Bill Winkie's bear. And I'm not just any old bear. I'm an Anders Imperial. Cinnamon-coloured mohair plush, with wood wool stuffing throughout. Black felt paw pads, vertically stitched nose. An Anders Imperial. You can tell by the special button in my left ear.' Eddie pointed to this special button and Jack peered at it.

The button looked very much like a beer bottle top.

It was a beer bottle top.

'And what is your name?' asked the bear.

'I'm Jack,’ Jack found himself saying. He was now talking to a teddy bear. (Granted, he had recently chatted to a horse. But at least the horse had behaved like a horse and had failed to chat back to him.) 'How?' Jack rubbed some more at his head. 'How is it done?'

'How is what done?' asked the bear.

'How are you doing that talking? Who's working you?'

'Working me? No one's working me. I work for myself.’

Jack eased himself into a sitting position. He patted at his person, then he groaned.

'Stuffing coming out?' Eddie cocked his head to one side.

'Stuffing? No.' Jack patted some more about his person. 'I've been robbed. I had a purse full of gold coins. And my boots. Someone's stolen my boots.'

'Don't knock it,' said Eddie. 'At least you're still alive. Listen, I've got to sit down, my legs are drunk.'

'Eh?' said Jack. 'What?'

'My legs,' said the bear. 'They're really drunk. If I sit down, then just my bum will be drunk and that won't be so bad.'

'I've lost it,' said Jack. 'Knocked unconscious twice in a single day. My brain is gone. I've lost it. I've gone mad.'

'I'm sorry to hear that.' The bear sat down. 'But it will probably help you to fit in. Most folk in the city are a bit, or more so, mad.'

'I'm talking to a toy bear.' Jack threw up his hands. His clockwork gun fell out of his sleeve. 'Oh, at least I still have this,' he said. 'Perhaps I should simply shoot myself now and get it all over with. I came to the city to seek my fortune and within hours of arrival I'm mad.'

'You came to the city? You're a stranger to the city?'

'This has not been a good day for me.'

'Tell me about it,' said the bear.

'Well,' said Jack. 'It all began when—

'No,' said the bear. 'It was a rhetorical comment. I don't want you to tell me about it. I was concurring. Today hasn't exactly been an armchair full of comfy cushions for yours truly.'

'Who's yours truly?'

'I am, you gormster.'

'Don't start with me,' said Jack, slipping his pistol back into his sleeve and feeling gingerly at the bump on the back of his head. 'I've got brain damage. I can see talking toy bears.'

'Where?' asked Eddie, peering all around.

'You,' said Jack. 'I can see you.'

'You need a drink,' said the bear. 'And I need another upending.'

'Upending? I don't understand.'

'Well, I don't know what you're stuffed with. Meat, isn't it?'

Jack made a baffled face.

'Well, I'm stuffed with sawdust and when I drink, the alcohol seeps down through my sawdust guts and into my feet. I'd have to drink a real lot to fill up all the way to my head and I never have that kind of money. So I get the barman to upend me. Stand me on my head. Then the alcohol goes directly to my head and stays there. Trouble is, it's hard to balance on your head on a barstool at the best of times. You've no chance at all when you're drunk. So I fall off the stool and the barman throws me out. It's all so unfair. But that's life for you, in an eggshell.'

'It's a nutshell, isn't it?'

'Well, you'd know, you're the loony.'

'I'm not well.'

The bear scrambled nearer to Jack and peered very closely at him. 'You don't look too well,' said he. 'Your face is all blue. Is that something catching, do you think? Not that I'll catch it. Moth is all I catch. That's one reason that I drink so much, to ward off the moth.'

'It's not fair.’ Jack buried his face in his hands and began to weep.

'Oh, come on.' Eddie Bear shifted over on his drunken bottom and patted Jack's arm with a paw. 'Things really could be worse. You'll be okay. I can direct you to the hospital, if you think you need your head bandaged. Or I'll stagger with you, if you want. Or you can carry me upside down and I'll sing you drunken songs. I know some really rude ones. They're all about pigs and penguins.'

'I had a cap somewhere,' said Jack, wiping his eyes and peering about in search of it.

'Was it blue?' asked the bear.

Jack nodded.

'Well, it isn't quite so blue now. I was sick on it. Mostly sawdust, of course, but evil-smelling; I had a curry earlier.'

'This really isn't happening.'

'I think you'll find that it is. Do you want to come back to my place? You could sleep there.'

Jack climbed painfully to his feet. He gazed down at the toy bear. 'You really are real, aren't you?' he said.

'As real as,' said Eddie.

'As real as what?' said Jack.

'Wish I knew,' said Eddie. 'But I can't do corroborative nouns. None of us are perfect, are we? I can get started. As big as, as foul as, as obscene as. But I can't get any further. But that's life for you again. As unfair as... Listen, wouldn't you rather go to a bar and have a drink? My bum's beginning to sober up. I seep at the seams. I've got leaks as big as... But we all have our problems, don't we?'

Jack agreed. 'I'm very confused,' he said. 'But I don't want to go to hospital. I don't like hospitals. And I'm really too young to go into bars.'

'You're quite big enough; let's have a beer. It won't lessen your confusion, though. In fact, it will probably increase it. But in a nice way and that's as good as, isn't it?'

'I should try and get my purse back. And my horse.'

'You had a horse?'

'A horse called Anthrax; he was stolen.'

'Then he's probably cat meat by now. Or being minced up to make burgers for that Nadine's Diner around the corner.'

'That's terrible,' said Jack. 'Poor Anthrax.'

'This isn't a very nice neighbourhood, Jack.'

'So what are you doing in it?'

'I'm on a case,' said Eddie Bear. 'I'm a private detective. Hence the trenchcoat.' Eddie did a bit of a twirl, then flopped back onto his drunken bum.

Jack shook his head, which pained him considerably. 'I am mad,' he said. 'This is all mad.'

'Come and have a beer,' said Eddie. 'I'll pay. And kindly carry me, if you will. My legs are still as drunk as, if you know what I mean, and I'm sure that you do.'

It was still a bright and moonlit night and as Jack, with Eddie underneath his arm and guided by the bear's directions, lurched painfully in his stockinged feet along this street and that and around one corner and the next, he was, all in all, amazed by the all and all that he saw.

'This is a very strange city,' said Jack.

'It's not strange to me,' said Eddie. 'How so is it strange to you?'

'Well,' said Jack, 'from a distance, as I approached the city, it all looked grey and dour. And it was, on the outskirts. But the deeper I go, the more colourful it becomes. And it's night now.'

'You'll no doubt find it positively garish in the daytime.' Eddie wriggled about.

'Careful,' said Jack, Til drop you.'

'You're squeezing me in all the wrong places. You'll push me out of shape.'

'Sorry,' said Jack. 'But tell me this. Are you a magic bear?'

'A magic bear? What is a magic bear?'

'I'm thinking perhaps a toy bear brought to animation through witchcraft or something like that. Not that I've ever believed in witchcraft. Although I did once meet with a wise woman who could make ducks dance.'

'Did they dance upon a biscuit tin?'

'Now I come to think of it, yes. How did you know?'

'It's an old showman's trick,' said Eddie. 'Involves a lighted candle inside the biscuit tin.'

'Urgh,' said Jack. 'That's most unpleasant.'

'Works well, though. Look, we're here.'

'Where's here?'

'Tinto's Bar,' said Eddie. 'This is where I normally do my drinking, when I'm not on a case and getting thrown out of other bars. Put me down please, Jack.'

Jack put Eddie down and viewed the exterior of Tinto's Bar.

The exterior of Tinto's Bar was colourful, to say the very least.

'Ghastly, isn't it?' said Eddie. 'I've suggested he repaint the place. But does he listen? No, he just throws me out. That's the trouble with being a teddy. Well, one of the troubles. People throw you about. They take liberties with your person. It's not nice, I can tell you.'

'I quite like the colours,' said Jack.

'They're mostly brown,' said Eddie. 'Those that aren't blue. They clash, in my opinion.'

Jack stared at the bar's exterior. 'There aren't any browns or blues,' he said.

'There are from where I'm looking. But then from where I'm looking, all the world is either brown or blue. It depends which eye I'm looking through. I've only the two, you see, and one's brown and one's blue. Not that I don't have others. I've a drawer full. But I can't fit them. No opposing thumbs, you see.' Eddie waved his paws about.

Jack looked down. 'What?' he said.

'Pardon is more polite,' said Eddie. 'But it's the curse of the teddy bear. Paws rather than hands. They don't even amount to proper paws, really. Proper paws are like stubby fingers. Mine are just sewn sections; nothing moves. You have no idea how lucky you are. Fingers and opposable thumbs. Bliss. What would I give, eh? That would be as wonderful as.'

Jack pushed open the door and he and Eddie entered Tinto's Bar.

It wasn't too colourful inside. In fact, it was all rather monochrome, or whatever the black and white equivalent of monochrome is. Black and white, probably.

The floor was a chequerboard pattern. The ceiling was likewise. But there was something altogether wrong about that ceiling. It was far too near to the floor. Jack had to duck his head. There were tables and chairs, around and about, arranged in pleasing compositions. But as Jack viewed these, he could clearly see that their dimensions were wrong. The tables and chairs were much too small, built, it appeared, for children. And upon the chairs and seated at the tables, engaged in noisy discussion sat...

Jack stopped in mid head-duck and stared.

Sat...

Jack opened his mouth.

Sat...

Jack backed towards the door he had come in by.

Sat...

'Toys!' shouted Jack, and he fled.

It was another alleyway, and Jack was sitting down in it.

'You're really going to have to pull yourself together,' Eddie told him.

'Toys?’ Jack made an idiotic face.

'So?' said Eddie.

'Toys. In the bar. I saw them. They were drinking and talking.'

'That's what they do. What we do. What's the big deal?'

'Am I dead?' asked Jack. 'Is that it? I'm dead, aren't I?'

Eddie shook his head. 'You're a bit messed up. But you're not dead. You're as alive as.'

'And so they were real?'

'As real as. This is a very weird conversation, and becoming somewhat repetitive. You're a very strange lad, Jack.'

'I'm strange? How dare you? I was in that bar. I saw toys. Live toys. Dolls and bears like you and clockwork soldiers and •wooden things and they were alive. I saw them.'

'Well, what did you expect to see, insects? You're in Toy City and Toy City is where toys live, isn't it?'

'Toy City,' said Jack. 'I can't believe it.'

'Listen,' said Eddie. 'You're a nice lad and everything. But you really must pull yourself together. You're in Toy City, which is where toys live. Which is where toys have always lived and will always live. It's hardly Utopia, but we get by somehow. Nothing ever changes around here. Or shouldn't anyway, which is why I'm on the case I'm on. But this is where you are.'

'This can't be happening. I must have gone mad.'

'Yeah, well,' said Eddie. 'Perhaps you are mad. -It's a shame. A real shame. Perhaps it would be better if we just went our separate ways. I wondered, I suppose. But perhaps I was wrong. I think I'll say goodbye.'

'Wondered?' said Jack. 'What did you wonder?'

'If, perhaps, you'd be the one. To help. It was only a thought. A drunken thought, probably. Forget it.'

'How can I forget it? I don't know what it was.'

'I need a partner,' said Eddie the Bear. 'I'm in a bit of a fix and I need a partner. I thought perhaps... But it doesn't matter. Go home, Jack. Go back to wherever you came from. This isn't the place for you to be. You don't understand about here. Sleep in this alley tonight, then go home, that's my advice to you.'

'I'm sorry,' said Jack. 'But I'm really confused. Real toys? Live toys? Living in a city?'

'You came to Toy City and you didn't expect to meet toys?'

'I didn't know it was Toy City. All I knew was it was the City. Where things happened. Nothing much ever happened in the town where I lived. So I came here to seek my fortune.'

'Interesting concept,' said Eddie. 'I've never heard of anyone doing that before. But then, this is the first time that I've actually met anyone who came from outside the City.'

'Because no one ever reaches here,' said Jack.

'Why? Do they get lost?'

'No, eaten, mostly.'

Eddie shrugged. 'Well, I wouldn't know about that. All I know is what I am. I live in Toy City. Things are as they are.'

'But toys can't live. They can't be alive.'

'And why not?'

'Because they can't.'

'But why?'

'Because I say that they can't.'

Eddie Bear looked up at Jack.

And Jack looked down at Eddie.

Eddie Bear began to laugh.

And then, too, so did Jack.

'Shall we go and have that beer?' asked Eddie.

'Yes,' said Jack. 'Let's do that.'