Henry Farrell

“ Toffee said grimly. "I'll die with a smile on my face, but it'll be the lie of the century." She lifted the bottle gamely and drank. "Oh, boy!" she rasped through drawn lips, "this whiskey is the answer to a drunkard's prayer."
Marc drank dutifully in turn. "You said it!" he announced, tears streaming from his eyes. "It's delicious!"
"I could go on drinking it forever," Toffee wheezed, taking another gulp and clutching her throat. "It's so smooth!"
"Makes you want more and more," Marc said, shaking his head to clear it after a third libation. "It gives you a real boost." ”

“ He gazed at George for a long, reflective moment, then made a sad, clucking sound. "I simply cannot imagine what Marcus Pillsworth must have thought when he discovered that his spiritual entity was a tacky, ebony-hearted, feather-headed wretch like you. Why aren't you more like your mortal source?"
George shrugged sheepishly. "I guess I'm just no damn good," he murmured.
"You flatter yourself," the Supreme Head said. "You're much worse than no damn good. You're simply awful. I wonder if Limbo will ever live you down." ”

“ The laws of nature, however, were against Olliphant from the very beginning. As the bottle darted out of his reach, sheer momentum carried him headlong into the dim reaches of Salts and Syrups. Gravity delivered him along with a quantity of gummy liquid and gritty crystallines to the floor. Settled in a sticky puddle of wreckage, Olliphant glanced around with a reddish, enraged expression. Besides salt and syrup, there was blood in his eye. ”

“ He quivered even more as the bottle uncapped itself, tilted upward and emptied a noticeable portion of its contents into—into absolutely nothing at all!
Olliphant fell back in his chair, slack of jaw, and it is doubtful, had anyone been able to apprise him of the truth of the matter, that he'd have felt any better about it. To a man in his cups, as Olliphant was, the news does not come lightly that he is in the company of a thirsty ghost, with an unerring nose for whiskey, and a predisposition for celebration. ”

“ She whirled about on the trembling congressman. "As for you, you big fat traitor, I want a clean confession and no nonsense."
"I don't have to talk to you," the congressman said uncertainly. "You can't make me say anything."
"Maybe not," Toffee said, "but what about your conscience?"
"Conscience?" the congressman said uncertainly.
"The term is unfamiliar to you?" Toffee said. "I'm not surprised. Let me try to explain it to you. A guilty conscience can play awful tricks on people." She eyed the congressman closely. "It can even make you think you're seeing things, for instance." ”

“ George admitted. "What else?"
"You're cleverer, too. Look at the way you've got Marc bottled up right now, for example. He's a dead duck. In fact, to tell you the truth, George, you make Marc look pretty sick. I'm beginning to think a girl would be much better off with you."
George cleared his throat. "You're sure you mean it?" he asked.
"Of course I do," Toffee said. "Why wouldn't I, George? It's not just that you're cleverer and more dominant than Marc, there are other little things too, things only a woman would notice. Your eyes, for instance." ”

“ Toffee shook her head. "I've always wanted to learn to drive," she said, smiling.
"Oh, my God!" the thug moaned. "Maybe, it's best; you're sure to kill yourself sooner or later anyway."
"Of course," Toffee said, patting his hand. "I don't want you to blame yourself. Just consider you're doing a public service."
Meanwhile, a lanky figure had emerged warily from the warehouse and was lurking, in a twitchy sort of way, in the dimness of the alley. Obscured in shadow, Marc had watched Toffee get into the green sedan, the thug instructing her in the art of driving. ”

“ The judge nodded. "My dentist said the same thing the other day. Are you a dentist?"
"Of course I'm not a dentist," Marc said. "It's the congressman."
"That's preposterous," the judge said. "The congressman isn't a dentist, never has been. You're just trying to rattle me."
Again, as Marc started to speak, the voice from behind took over. "That's rich, that is," it slurred. "You were rattled the day you were born, you old tosspot, and you've been getting balmier ever since. If you have the brain of a gnat...."
The gavel smashed down on the bench like the crack of doom.
"Go!" the judge said. ”

“ From the rear there was the sound of screeching tires and forced brakes.
"Good night!" the congressman panted, righting the limousine as the green sedan veered away again. "What did you hit?"
"I think it was that coupe back there," the thug said, peering out the window. "I must have hit a tire: it's out of control."
"Good Lord!" the congressman yelled, "the curve's right ahead! We're pinned in between them. We're going to crash. Everybody's going to crash!" ”

“ I've never seen so much snarling in all my life; these people just don't seem to like each other."
"What about this fellow who denies he's Pillsworth?" the judge asked. "Is he the only pure defendant in the bunch?"
"Oh, no, your honor. He's the biggest complainant of the lot. And he's far from pure. He's accusing the congressman of being the head of a gang of subversives who are planning to kill the entire population with bacteria."
The judge leaned across the bench, plainly scandalized. "The congressman!" he gasped. "Why Congressman Entwerp was a classmate of mine!" ”

“ The judge's eyes swiveled about hauntedly. "He what?"
"Pinched my gadget," Toffee insisted. "The one with the button."
"Now just a minute," the judge said a little wildly. "Wasn't it the blonde woman who had her gadget pinched?"
"Don't be silly," Toffee said. "She hasn't a gadget to be pinched."
"She hasn't?" the judge said in a startled whisper. "What happened to her gadget?"
"I guess she just didn't have one in the first place," Toffee said. "You can't just go out and buy them, you know."
The judge turned to the cop. "Do you know anything about why this blonde woman doesn't have a gadget?" ”

“ Toffee shrugged. "Why should I be? I'm a product of Marc's mind. I can't possibly be destroyed unless he is. And he's perfectly safe."
"He is?" George said, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Why don't these people want to kill him?"
"They think they are killing him," Toffee said. "They think you're Marc. In fact they believe you're already dead."
"What!" George cried. "You mean I'm acting as a decoy to save Marc's life?"
Toffee nodded smugly. "Some onions, eh, George?"
"Stop the car!" George shouted. "Let me out!"
"No brakes," Toffee said. She nodded toward the limousine. ”

“ The truth of the matter was that the judge, similarly baffled by Toffee's seductive attitude toward the chair, had also been subjected to the nasty sight of George's grotesque eye exercises. He, like the congressman, had experienced a feeling of giddiness at the nape of the neck and decided against mentioning the incident. After gazing upon a pair of air-borne eyes which have just crossed themselves in their zeal to convey the charm of the rake, one is generally loath to bring the subject up with anyone save the local psychiatrist. ”

“ The moment they were gone, locking the door after them, Toffee jumped down from her perch and Marc appeared from the shadows.
"Do you know who that was?" Marc asked excitedly.
"The old bird with the sable hair-do?"
Marc nodded. "It's Congressman Entwerp. I should have known he was behind this mess. And that isn't all; those crates of cheap whiskey are just a front. Underneath there's enough bacteria culture to wipe out the whole country. These boys are planning mass murder!" ”

“ The woman's reaction to this was a shrill, braying scream.
"Please," Marc said distractedly. "Don't." The woman screamed again. "Do you have to do that?" he asked annoyedly.
"I have to do something, don't I?" the woman enquired wretchedly. "I can't just sit here, can I?"
"I don't see why not," Marc said, peering down the street intently. "It doesn't help anything to scream like that."
"It helps me plenty," the woman retorted hotly. "When naked men come leaping into a lady's car and driving her off to God knows what, it gives her a great satisfaction to scream." ”

“ Wheeling Marc along the hallway toward Surgery, he looked down at the drawn face beneath him with a twinge of pique. He strongly resented the fact that the face was not behaving at all as the face of a true corpse-elect should.
According to the orderly, a dying man had no right to twitch and flutter his eyelids the way this one was doing, let alone showing signs of coming completely to life. It made the orderly nervous and upset.
MARC PILLSWORTH
For a moment the orderly almost succumbed to an impulse to walk off and leave the patient to shift for himself. ”

“ Marc said angrily. "Stop sneaking out like that!"
In response, George merely dissolved his head to a grinning skull. "Gotta go now," he chortled hollowly. "Gotta be corking off." He turned to the others and clacked his teeth menacingly. Olliphant Gunn was the first to snap.
"There's just so much that human flesh and blood can stand," the poor man wailed, and leaping to the operating table he snatched up the anaesthetic mask and plunged it over his face.
"Come on," Toffee said urgently, tugging at Marc's sleeve. "Let's get out of here before that cheap ghost sticks us with an operation." ”

“ Toffee had released Marc into reality and good health, but costumed only for the operating table.
No one was more acutely aware of this deficiency than Marc himself. Looking around unhappily at his stunned beholders and taking in his slight coverage all in a single glance, he was taken with a seizure of shocked modesty. Hunkering down into a squat he clutched the hem of his gown desperately to his knees.
"My word!" the elderly patient said, leaning forward in her chair. "What in the world does that man think he's doing!"
"I don't like to think," the nurse said, looking away. ”

“ Why not be a good loser for a change?"
The empty chair shifted, just perceptibly, with an air of complacency.
"Maybe they'll hang you," George replied hopefully from thin air.
"Don't be silly," Marc said. "There's no reason why they should. Come on, now, be a good fellow and help get this over with."
"Oh, I'm going to help get it over with," George said pleasantly. "When I'm through, they'll lower the boom on you so hard you'll be the first man in history to be buried in an envelope."
Just then Toffee leaned forward and touched Marc's arm. "The judge wants to speak to you," she said. ”

“ Even George might have envied the torment in her voice as it soared, swooped, scaled the heights and dipped into soul-shattering depths. At its completion, the blonde turned and took a clawing swipe at Marc's face.
Marc ducked. "That's the stuff!" he said happily, noting from the corner of his eye that he had finally gained the undivided attention of the police force. Pinching the blonde again and nodding his satisfaction at the second chorus, he threw the coupe into gear, cut across traffic and headed down the speedway. ”

“ It would be difficult to say what the orderly expected to find behind him: a fanged reptile might have made a good guess, a slavering fiend another. It is certain, however, judging from his reaction, that on the list of things he did not expect to find, a scantily clad redhead was number one. Toffee, her legs crossed to perfection, the cylinder-like gadget under her arm, sat jauntily on the edge of the cart, smiling a bright greeting. The young man leaped backwards and froze in a transfix of amazement.
"Auk!" he exclaimed.
Toffee turned to Marc. "Is he doing a bird imitation?" she asked. ”

“ The judge laughed immoderately. "Oh, Congressman!" he gasped, wiping his eyes. "You always were a wit!"
Toffee frowned her disapproval. "This is worse than television," she said.
"What am I going to do?" Marc said. "I can't let him get away with it. I'll wind up in an asylum while he sells the whole country down the river."
Toffee nodded morosely. "We've got to think of something," she said. "If they won't listen to sense, I guess the only thing to do is resort to madness."
"How do you mean?"
"Trade seats with me," Toffee said. "I want to talk to George." ”

“ Marc said, addressing himself to the empty stairs. "It's no use pretending you're not there. You might as well show yourself."
A subdued hiccough echoed out of the emptiness, but that was the extent of George's communication.
"If you're entertaining any notion of bumping me off so you can stay here," Marc warned, "just forget it. I'm alive and I intend to stay that way."
"Just ignore him," Toffee said. "He's bound to get bored and go away if we refuse to pay any attention to him." ”

“ Marc agreed. His voice trailed away on a rising inflection as he spotted a police car parked at the curb across the street. "Cops!" he breathed. He glanced ahead. "You see that green sedan up ahead with the black limousine beside it?"
The woman nodded vaguely. "The one that just cut up over the sidewalk? What about it?"
"Keep your eye on it," Marc instructed, "while I get the cop's attention. It's a matter of life and death." ”

“ I'll teach you to make foul passes at a girl when she is stuck under a clutch. I'll show you...!"
"Good gosh!" the cop said. "Who's she talking to?"
"She must be hysterical," the congressman said, thoroughly shaken. "Probably got a crack on the head and isn't accountable for what she's saying."
"That's certainly no way to talk to the dead," the cop said.
"It's no way to talk to the living," the thug said. "If she hauled off at me like that I'd rather be dead."
"The poor child's obviously insane," the congressman said firmly. "There's no question about it."
Meanwhile Toffee was still at it. ”

“ Toffee said reflectively, "say a man is responsible for another man's murder. If his conscience gets ahold of him he may begin to see that man as still alive. He may even see two such men, just alike. In really bad cases the subject is likely to imagine one of the men in a state of mutilation, say cut in half. Of course, that's pretty extreme."
The congressman glanced compulsively in George's direction and turned ashen. George, still at half mast, stared back at him with fixed blankness. The congressman groaned. ”

“ Marc said with rising irritation.
"Well, put yourself in my place," the woman snapped. "What would you do if a naked man came leaping into your car?"
"Naked men don't leap into my car." Marc said self-righteously. "I wouldn't let them."
"Are you suggesting that I invite naked men to come leaping into my car?" the woman asked frigidly. "I'll have you know...."
"The way you carry on about it," Marc said, "one just automatically draws his own conclusions. One pictures a whole procession of naked men just waiting their turn to leap into your car, you're such an authority on these occasions." ”