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The Reluctant Vampire Omnibus. Eric MorecambeЧитать онлайн книгу.

The Reluctant Vampire Omnibus - Eric  Morecambe


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yes, Tick. Tick the bick taft twarf. Ya, I remember him. Ya.’

      ‘He told me Val wasn’t too good,’ Wilf continued. ‘I met him in the forest and we went for a walkies. That’s when he told me.’

      ‘Vell, Valentine’s a lot better I think. The Doctor’s vith him now. Doctor Plump.’

      ‘Plump?’ Wilf thought a while. ‘Doctor Plump?’

      ‘Ya.’

      ‘Yes, I think I used to go about with his alsatian. I’m not sure.’

      ‘Very tall.’

      ‘No. Short, rather fat with a scruffy tail.’

      ‘I mean the Doctor.’

      ‘Oh!’ Wilf snarled sweetly.

      Areta had joined the other two customers while her father was once more behind the bar. Wilf joined Victor at the bar.

      ‘Can I get you anythink?’ King Victor asked Wilf.

      ‘No. No thank you, Victor. I’m off it at the moment. The hard stuff, that is. The vet says it’s best if I keep off it for a few more days. I’ve got a touch of hard pad.’ He showed Victor the sole of his left foot. ‘That’s why I’m limping a bit.’ He put his hind foot gingerly back on the floor.

      ‘I vould think you get the hard pad from all the runnink you do, ya?’

      ‘Never stop. I’m always running,’ Wilf said proudly, turning and leaning his back on the bar.

      ‘Ya, you run a lot, Vilf.’

      ‘I’m always running. Well, you see, farmers are always after me for frightening their sheep and enraged parents and all that, and bears and the like. Bears don’t like us much so they chase us a lot. Parents, farmers, bears … That’s why I do a lot of running, you see. I’ll tell you what …’

      ‘Vot?’

      ‘If you were to throw a stick now, across this floor to the other side of the room, I’d run after it. It’s our nature, you see.’

      ‘Vould you also brink it back?’

      ‘Sometimes, but sometimes I forget.’ Wilf looked around the tavern once more. ‘Mind you, I don’t run so much when I’m not a werewolf. When I’m an ordinary human being I like to sit at home with my legs up. I rest because I know that as soon as the full moon comes up again I go to bed and in about ten or twenty minutes or so I look down at the back of my hands and the hairs are starting to grow.’

      ‘Vot do you do then?’ Victor asked with keen interest.

      ‘Well, I get up and go on to the landing and shout through my mum’s door, “The hairs are growing Mum, so I’ll be off now and I’ll see you in about a week or ten days” and she shouts back something like, “All right, love. Be a good boy and bring back a fresh loaf with you” so then I’m off again, running.’

      Wilf finished talking and noticed that everybody in the tavern was listening to him. This made him feel quite important.

      Victor nodded agreement all through Wilf’s conversation. He turned to Grabbo saying, ‘I’ll haff one for the road, Grabbo. I’ll haff half a forty year olt.’ Turning back to Wilf he said:

      ‘I mustn’t haff anythink too stronk at the moment. I’m meeting the vife later on ant takink her out for a bite.’

      ‘Where?’ asked Wilf with enough interest in his voice to make Victor think, ‘He vants to come too.’

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      ‘Er, vell, it’s more off a small family get-together than anythink else. Just the vife, Vernon, me and Valentine, if he’s any better. Ve vill propaply go and vait at the bridle path ant see if there is anythink vorth bitink.’

      Victor was trying to get away quickly. ‘Oh, gutt Lord, is that the time? I tolt the vife I vould pick her up at twelf thirty.’

      ‘Is that the time she falls down?’ Wilf asked.

      ‘Pardon me?’ said a puzzled Victor.

      ‘You said you would pick her up at twelve thirty, so I was asking you if that was the time she fell down … Twelve thirty?’

      ‘Vilf, I haff never unterstood your jokes ant I still don’t. Guttbye Vilf,’ Victor said, patting Wilf on the head and giving him a tickle under the chin. Wilf showed his approval by licking Victor’s ear.

      Victor left the tavern the same way as he had arrived – by the window. Areta went to close the window after him, thinking, ‘He’s just like all men. Never closes anything after him.’

      Grabbo started to clean the glasses and whistled a late night tune. The tune was very popular in Gotcha at the moment. It was called ‘Show me the way to my cottage and my bed’. He hoped Wilf and the other two customers might take the hint and realise how late it was. But Wilf was in a talking mood that night.

      ‘Nice man, Victor, eh Grabbo?’

      ‘Charming,’ Grabbo said, oozing sarcasm that went straight over Wilf’s head. Wilf was quiet for a few seconds and then asked:

      ‘I don’t suppose you have anybody fresh in the cold cellar have you Grabbo?’

      ‘No,’ said Grabbo truthfully while putting the forty year old away.

      ‘It’s just that I fancy somebody fresh, that’s all.’

      ‘You heard what my father said, Wilf,’ Areta said, bustling around and clearing the table of the two customers who took the hint and left without saying goodnight to anyone.

      ‘Well, have you got any crisps then?’ Wilf asked.

      ‘What flavour?’ Grabbo asked with a tired voice.

      After a moment’s thought Wilf said, ‘Human please.’

      Grabbo threw him a pack of crisps saying, ‘Smokey bacon, take it or leave it.’

      ‘I’ll take it,’ Wilf said, his lips and teeth tearing open the packet.

      ‘That will be three lukas.’

      ‘What?’ Wilf asked, spraying crisps all over the bar.

      ‘That will be three lukas. Are you going deaf, Wilf?’

      ‘I haven’t got three lukas. As a matter of fact I haven’t got any money at all.’

      ‘No money? No money at all?’ Grabbo said, looking at his daughter.

      ‘No. You see, when I’m a werewolf I haven’t any pockets so I can’t carry any money.’

      ‘All right, Wilf,’ Grabbo said in a bored and tired voice. ‘You owe me three lukas.’

      ‘Thanks Grabbo.’

      ‘That’s O.K. Now take your crisps and go.’

      ‘Yes. Well goodnight then, Grabbo, and goodnight Areta. By the way, Areta, I’m not a werewolf next week so I was wondering if you would come to the fair with me a week on Thursday?’

      ‘Goodnight Wilf,’ Areta said softly.

      ‘Goodnight Areta,’ Wilf said sadly.

      CHAPTER 3

       A Vampire family on the street;

       A Werewolf with only crisps to eat.

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      Valentine suddenly stopped Igon by putting his hand out. The Doctor and the servant behind nearly bumped into them. Since they had left Valentine’s


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