Stephen Walker - Mr Landen Has No Brain

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A Paperback Original 2001

Copyright © Stephen Walker 2001

Stephen Walker asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

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Source ISBN: 9780006483816

Ebook Edition © FEBRUARY 2016 ISBN: 9780007400881

Version: 2015-12-14

For bunny rabbits.

Cover

Title Page Mr Landen Has No Brain Stephen Walker

Copyright

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Acknowledgements

About the Author

By Stephen Walker

About the Publisher

‘Quiver, female, for I am Lepus, master of the night, and soon you shall be my rumpy-pumpy boing-boing toy. Carrots. Carrots. Must have carrots.’ And the ‘master of the night’ crashed out of Teena Rama’s mobile home, leaving behind a huge, rabbit-shaped hole in the wall.

From where Sally Cooper stood, just inside the front doorway, she could hear him knocking wheelie bins over in his quest for carrots.

Across the room from her, Teena gazed out through the hole and watched his rampage. Still holding the shroud she’d had him hidden under before his grand unveiling, she enthused, ‘Is he the best boyfriend you’ve ever seen or what?’

Mobile home? Sally’d been in smaller mansions. ‘Teena, he’s a rabbit. He’s a seven foot, talking rabbit.’

‘A super-evolved talking rabbit,’ Teena corrected her.

‘He referred to me as “female”, called me his rumpy-pumpy boing-boing toy–’

‘Which some would find flattering.’

‘–and is more interested in carrots than in me. And you think that’s a great boyfriend?’

Teena rolled up the shroud and cast it aside. ‘His attitude leaves a little to be desired but whose boyfriend’s doesn’t?’

‘Yours, according to you.’

Teena raised a suggestive eyebrow. ‘Sadly not every woman can have a Man Who Does.’

‘Just how desperate do you think I am that I’d go out with a giant rabbit?’

‘At the risk of sounding insensitive, Sally, you must face facts.’

‘What facts?’

‘You’re not an attractive woman and can’t afford to be choosy.’

‘Piss off,’

Knuckles on hips, Teena gazed at the floor and smiled bitterly to herself. She was five foot ten, nineteen years old and – according to her – sex on legs. She was wearing cut-off-at-the-knee jeans, and a red vest cut just high enough to bare her pierced navel. If she had hair, Sally’d never seen it. It was hidden beneath the mass of starched polka dot rags that now hung half-obscuring her oh-so-lovely face. Teena said, ‘Well, how’s that for gratitude.’

‘Gratitude?’ Sally’s mind boggled.

Teena looked across at her. Her perfect left hand dragged the polka dot rags away from her perfect face and tucked them behind a perfect ear. ‘I slave away during my holiday, super-evolving life forms for you–’

‘Life forms? Plural?’

‘I also have a cockroach and a rubber plant I’d like you to meet.’

‘Good God.’

‘But you throw it all back in my face. Yes, as men go, they’re not that great, and in the rubber plant’s case it’s not all that male, but you have to appreciate that my techniques are not yet perfect. I’d love to create a Brad Pitt for you but I’m no goddess, I have my limitations. I did my best for you and that’s all that matters.’