“Teddy!” Rickenbacker shouted over the gunfire, desperate for his tools.
Teddy tore his gaze from the Humps and returned to finding the bag, the sound of the ponies’ screams, glass shattering and Twirlers blasting deafening him. Over the cacophony, Teddy could make out the booming blat, like a huge dollop of mud dropped from on high hitting the ground, accompanied by Pinkerton’s imaginative torrent of abuse and occasional roars of laughter at either his own invective or the result of his violence. Teddy thought they were all crazy. Why would anyone choose to live like this? If his mother were not twice as terrifying as your average Hump, Teddy would have been home months ago. The fact his mother had probably moved house and hadn’t replied to any of his correspondence implied he had nowher
