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228 pages, Paperback
First published August 1, 2003
The less I think, the less I am, and the less I am – the more I have the potential to become.
Unlike most politicians, this one wasn’t ugly and hideous. He was bald, of course, but his head wasn’t shaped like a pumpkin and his eyes weren’t close-knit and beady. On the contrary, he had a head like a hawk and his eyes were strong, blue and in proportion with the features of his face… But more than that, the politician had already dropped his pants and began having sex with the porn stars.
“But could you leave please? My wife will be home soon and if she sees us here together she might get suspicious. And anyway you’re breaking the law. You can’t just sneak into somebody’s house, start posing and expect everything to be all right. Please go.”
The bodybuilder shook his head. “I’m sorry but I can’t do that. Once I start posing, there’s no stopping me.” [...] “I may take five now and then to shoot up an anabolic cocktail and fix myself a protein shake, but otherwise, you’re stuck with me. You’re stuck with me for a long, long time.”
Rakehell steadied himself. He turned to his family and said, “There’s a glacier in the front yard. I don’t know where it came from and I don’t know why it’s here, but it’s laying out there like a dead cow in the road and it won’t go away. Not only that—it’s moving. Not very fast, but it’s moving all right, and it’s headed right in our direction. We have to leave. Do you understand?”
“You’re scaring the prepubescents, dear,” said Mrs. Bartleberry.
Derillict Hagadorn’s Achilles’ tendons are made of spidersteel. He wasn’t born with spidersteel Achilles’ tendons, he was born with steel ones, and when he was an infant a spider snuck into his crib, slit open his heels and spun its silk all over the aberrations. Over time the silk was assimilated. Not only did it reinforce the strength of his steel tendons, it made them pliant and nimble, just like all of the other neighborhood children’s Achilles’ tendons. The only thing is, all of the other neighbor children’s Achilles tendons, which are made of a wet, feeble substance reminiscent of the stems of lily pads, are always snapping, without warning, and usually without the slightest provocation. Since the last thing Derillict’s impervious tendons are about to do is snap, all of the neighborhood children (and their parents, whose Achilles’ tendons are always snapping, too) despise Derillict and wish him ill. Nothing would give the neighborhood more pleasure than to hear two of those guitar string-breaking sounds ringing out of Derillict’s heels, and then to watch him topple over and land on his face. But that’s just not going to happen. Not by natural causes anyway.