The Dance of the Voodoo Handbag

The Dance of the Voodoo Handbag

Robert Rankin

Language: English

Pages: 336

ISBN: 0552145807

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


This is the story of Billy, whose Grandmother left him the "voodoo handbag" in her will, after he had sold her soul to science. The tales it tells Billy will change his life forever—and the lives of other people as well.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

but you probably would have found it a bit cramped in there. There’s air holes in the lid, so it’s not cruel or anything. And I’ve taken the liberty of injecting you with a special drug from the Amazon. It slows down the metabolism so you’ll only need feeding about once a week. So I can do that when I come for another finger. So that’s perfect, isn’t it?’ And so saying Mrs Barnes closed the lid of the portmanteau, locked it and pushed it under her bed. And then she went down for her supper.

said Andy. ‘Reboot and start again.’ I shook my head. I stamped at the floor. ‘This floor is real,’ I told Andy. ‘This is no computer simulation.’ ‘Then it’s not being dead either, is it?’ ‘No,’ I said. ‘I suppose not.’ ‘So can you get a grip of that? You’re not dead. Keep telling yourself you’re not dead.’ ‘I’m not dead,’ I said. And I liked the sound of it. ‘I’m not dead. I’m not dead. Hey, everybody! I’m not dead!’ ‘What’s all this?’ asked Sean O’Reilly, breezing in. ‘Did you say you

virtual dead, happy in their virtual wonderland.’ ‘It says more than that,’ said Billy. What, the acrostic? I couldn’t resist it, Billy, it made me laugh.’ ‘The acrostic, yes. I spotted it right away. Read the first letters down and you have SATAN NEEDS YOU. A bit of a giveaway, perhaps.’ ‘Just my little joke. Something for the heavy metal fans.’ ‘Tell me, I need to know.’ ‘Who I am? What I am? Am I a man? Am I a god? Are you dreaming me or am I dreaming you?’ You’re not a god,’ said

unzipped his trousers. ‘Come pray to me, ‘he said. You dirty bastard!’ Billy turned at the voice. A young man in military fatigues, an Uzi automatic in his hands, stood glaring at him. Billy hastily refastened his flies. Who are you?’ he demanded. ‘Nobody,’ said the young man. ‘An absolute nobody.’ ‘Then get the fuck out of my palace.’ ‘No way.’ The young man shook his head. Your time is up, Barnes. The Children of the Revolution demand your head on a salver. We demand the right to be free.

your final statement and try to assess your mental state. You’re quite a prize, you know. Mental illness is very much a thing of the past.’ ‘Because mental patients are a thing of the past.’ ‘What was that you said?’ ‘Nothing. I said nothing. The phone call. Please let me make it’ ‘I don’t think so,’ said the doctor. ‘Let’s return to the Necronet.’ ‘I’ve said enough to you about that. Get me out of this straitjacket, let me free, you bastard.’ ‘Easy now,’ said the doctor. ‘Don’t upset

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