"Christopher Moore - The Stupidest Angel" - читать интересную книгу автора (Moore Christopher)

Theo was sure he had handcuffs in the Volvo — or were they still on
the bedpost at home? "That is not the way we — "


"Forty!" Lena shouted.


"Done!" Dale said. He pulled two twenties from his wallet, wadded
them up, and threw them out the window so they bounced off of
Theo Crowe's chest. He threw the truck in gear and backed out.


"Stop right there!" Theo commanded.


Dale righted the truck and took off. As the big red pickup passed
Theo's Volvo station wagon, parked twenty yards up the lot, a bag of
ice came flying out the window and exploded against the Volvo's
tailgate, showering the parking lot with cubes but otherwise doing
no damage whatsoever. "Merry Christmas, you psycho bitch!" Dale
shouted out the window as he turned onto the street. "And to all a
good night! Hippie!"


Lena had tucked the wadded bills into her Santa suit and was
squeezing Theo's shoulder as the red truck roared out of sight.
"Thanks for coming to my rescue, Theo."


"Not much of a rescue. You should press charges."


"I'm okay. He'd have gotten out of it anyway, he has great lawyers.
Trust me, I know. Besides, forty bucks'"


"That's the Christmas spirit," Theo said, not able to keep from
smiling. "You sure you're okay?"


"I'm fine. It's not the first time he's lost it with me." She patted the
pocket of her Santa suit. "At least something came of this." She
started back to her kettle and Theo followed.


"You have a week to file charges if you change your mind," Theo
said.