WeCanGetThemForYouWholesale

byNeilGaiman

PeterPinterhadneverheardofAristippusoftheCyrenaics,alesserknown
followerofSocrateswhomaintainedthattheavoidanceoftroublewasthe
highestattainablegood;however,hehadlivedhisuneventfullifeaccordingto
thisprecept.Inallrespectsexceptone(aninabilitytopassupabargain,and
whichofusisentirelyfreefromthat?),hewasaverymoderateman.Hedidnot
gotoextremes.Hisspeechwasproperandreserved;herarelyoverate;hedrank
enoughtobesociableandnomore;hewasfarfromrichandinnowisepoor.He
likedpeopleandpeoplelikedhim.Bearingallthatinmind,Wouldyouexpectto
findhiminalowlifepubontheseamiersideofLondon'sEastEnd,takingout
whatiscolloquiallyknownasa'contract'onsomeonehehardlyknew?You
wouldnot.Youwouldnotevenexpecttofindhiminthepub.
AnduntilacertainFridayafternoon,youwouldhavebeenright.Buttheloveofa
womancandostrangethingstoaman,evenonesocolourlessasPeterPinter,
andthediscoverythatMissGwendolynThorpe,twentythreeyearsofage,of9,
OaktreeTerrace,Purley,wasmessingabout(asthevulgarwouldputit)witha
smoothyounggentlemanfromtheaccountingdepartmentafter,markyou,she
hadconsentedtowearanengagementring,composedofrealrubychips,nine
caratgold,andsomethingthatmightwellhavebeenadiamond(37.50)thatit
hadtakenPeteralmostanentirelunchhourtochoosecandoverystrange
thingstoamanindeed.

Afterhehadmadethisshockingdiscovery,PeterspentasleeplessFridaynight,
tossingandturningwithvisionsofGwendolynandArchieGibbons(theDonJuan
oftheClamagesaccountingdepartment)dancingandswimmingbeforehiseyes
performingactsthatevenPeter,ifhewerepressed,wouldhavetoadmitwere
mostimprobable.Butthebileofjealousyhadrisenupwithinhim,andbythe
morningPeterhadresolvedthathisrivalshouldbedoneawaywith.
Saturdaymorningwasspentwonderinghowonecontactedanassassin,for,to
thebestofPeter'sknowledge,nonewereemployedbyClamages(the
departmentstorethatemployedallthreeofthemembersofoureternaltriangle,
and,incidentally,furnishedthering),andhewaswaryofaskinganyoneoutright
forfearofattractingattentiontohimself.

ThusitwasthatSaturdayafternoonfoundhimhuntingthroughtheYellow
Pages.

ASSASSINS,hefound,wasnotbetweenASPHALTCONTRACTORSand
ASSESSORS(QUANTITY);KILLERSwasnotbetweenKENNELSand
KINDERGARTENS;MURDERERSwasnotbetweenMOWERSandMUSEUMS.
PESTCONTROLlookedpromising;howevercloserinvestigationofthepest
controladvertisementsshowedthemtobealmostsolelyconcernedwith'rats,
mice,fleas,cockroaches,rabbits,molesandrats'(toquotefromonethatPeter
feltwasratherhardonrats)andnotreallywhathehadinmind.Evenso,being
ofacarefulnature,hedutifullyinspectedtheentriesinthatcategory,andatthe
bottomofthesecondpage,insmallprint,hefoundafirmthatlookedpromising.
Completediscreetdisposalofirksomeandunwantedmammals,etc.'wentthe
entry,'Ketch,Hare,BurkeandKetch.TheOldFirm.'Itwentontogiveno
address,butonlyatelephonenumber.
Peterdialledthenumber,surprisinghimselfbysodoing.Hisheartpoundedin
hischest,andhetriedtolooknonchalant.Thetelephonerangonce,twice,three
times.Peterwasjuststartingtohopethatitwouldnotbeansweredandhecould
forgetthewholethingwhentherewasaclickandabriskyoungfemalevoice
said,'KetchHareBurkeandKetch.CanIhelpyou?'
Carefullynotgivinghisname,Petersaid,'Er,howbigImean,whatsize
mammalsdoyougoupto?To,uh,disposeof?'
'Well,thatwouldalldependonwhatsizesirrequires.'
Hepluckedupallhiscourage.'Aperson?'

Hervoiceremainedbriskandunruffled.Ofcourse,sir.Doyouhaveapenand
paperhandy?Good.BeattheDirtyDonkeypub,offLittleCourtneyStreet,E3,
tonightateighto'clock.CarryarolledupcopyoftheFinancialTimesthat'sthe
pinkone,sirandouroperativewillapproachyouthere.'Thensheputdownthe
phone.
Peterwaselated.Ithadbeenfareasierthanhehadimagined.Hewentdownto
thenewsagent'sandboughtacopyoftheFinancialTimes,foundLittleCourtney
StreetinhisAZofLondon,andspenttherestoftheafternoonwatchingfootball
onthetelevisionandimaginingthesmoothyounggentlemanfromaccounting's
funeral.

IttookPeterawhiletofindthepub.Eventuallyhespottedthepubsign,which
showedadonkeyandwasindeedremarkablydirty.
TheDirtyDonkeywasasmallandmoreorlessfilthypub,poorlylit,inwhich
knotsofunshavenpeoplewearingdustydonkeyjacketsstoodaroundeyeing
eachothersuspiciously,eatingcrispsanddrinkingpintsofGuinness,adrinkthat
Peterhadnevercaredfor.PeterheldhisFinancialTimesunderonearmas
conspicuouslyashecould,butnooneapproachedhim,soheboughtahalfof
shandyandretreatedtoacornertable.Unabletothinkofanythingelsetodo
whilewaiting,hetriedtoreadthepaper,but,lostandconfusedbyamazeof
grainfuturesandarubbercompanythatwassellingsomethingorothershort
(quitewhattheshortsomethingswerehecouldnottell),hegaveitupand
staredatthedoor.
Hehadwaitedalmosttenminuteswhenasmallbusymanhustledin,looked
quicklyaroundhim,thencamestraightovertoPeter'stableandsatdown.
Hestuckouthishand.'Kemble.BurtonKembleofKetchHareBurkeKetch.Ihear
youhaveajobforus.'
Hedidn'tlooklikeakiller.Petersaidso.
'Oh,lor'blessus,no.I'mnotactuallyapartofourworkforce,sir.I'minsales.'

Peternodded.Thatcertainlymadesense.'Canweertalkfreelyhere?'
'Sure.Nobody'sinterested.Nowthen,howmanypeoplewouldyoulikedisposed
of?'

'Onlyone.Hisname'sArchibaldGibbonsandheworksinClamagesaccounting
department.Hisaddressis'

Kembleinterrupted.'Wecangointoallthatlater,sir,ifyoudon'tmind.Let'sjust
quicklygooverthefinancialside.Firstofall,thecontractwillcostyoufive
hundredpounds'
Peternodded.Hecouldaffordthatandinfacthadexpectedtohavetopayalittle
more.
'althoughthere'salwaysthespecialoffer,'Kembleconcludedsmoothly.

Peter'seyesshone.AsImentionedearlier,helovedabargainandoftenbought
thingshehadnoimaginableuseforinsalesoronspecialoffers.Apartfromthis
onefailing(onethatsomanyofusshare),hewasamostmoderateyoungman.
'Specialoffer?'

'Twoforthepriceofone,sir.'
Mmm.Peterthoughtaboutit.Thatworkedoutatonly250each,whichcouldn't
bebadnomatterhowyoulookedatit.Therewasonlyonesnag.'I'mafraidI
don'thaveanyoneelseIwantkilled.'
Kemblelookeddisappointed.'That'sapity,sir.Fortwowecouldprobablyhave
evenknockedthepricedownto,well,sayfourhundredandfiftypoundsforthe
bothofthem.'
'Really?'
'Well,itgivesouroperativessomethingtodo,sir.Ifyoumustknow'andhere
hedroppedhisvoice'therereallyisn'tenoughworkinthisparticularlineto
keepthemoccupied.Notliketheolddays.Isn'ttherejustoneotherpersonyou'd
liketoseedead?'
Peterpondered.Hehatedtopassupabargain,butcouldn'tforthelifeofhim
thinkofanyoneelse.Helikedpeople.Still,abargainwasabargain
'Look,'saidPeter.'CouldIthinkaboutitandseeyouheretomorrownight?'
Thesalesmanlookedpleased.'Ofcourse,sir,'hesaid.'I'msureyou'llbeableto
thinkofsomeone.'
TheanswertheobviousanswercametoPeterashewasdriftingofftosleep
thatnight.Hesatstraightupinbed,fumbledthebedsidelighton,andwrotea
namedownonthebackofanenvelope,incaseheforgotit.Totellthetruth,he
didn'tthinkthathecouldforgetit,foritwaspainfullyobvious,butyoucannever
tellwiththeselatenightthoughts.
Thenamethathehadwrittendownonthebackoftheenvelopewasthis:
GwendolynThorpe.
Heturnedthelightoff,rolledover,andwassoonasleep,dreamingpeacefuland
remarkablyunmurderousdreams.

KemblewaswaitingforhimwhenhearrivedintheDirtyDonkeyonSunday
night.Peterboughtadrinkandsatdownbesidehim.
'I'mtakingyouuponthespecialoffer,'hesaidbywayofgreeting.
Kemblenoddedvigorously.'Averywisedecision,ifyoudon'tmindmesayingso,
sir.'
PeterPintersmiledmodestly,inthemannerofonewhoreadtheFinancialTimes
andmadewisebusinessdecisions.'Thatwillbefourhundredandfiftypounds,I
believe?'

'DidIsayfourhundredandfiftypounds,sir?Goodgraciousme,Idoapologize.I
begyourpardon,Iwasthinkingofourbulkrate.Itwouldbefourhundredand
seventyfivefortwopeople.'
DisappointmentmingledwithcupidityonPeter'sblandandyouthfulface.That
wasanextra25.However,somethingthatKemblehadsaidcaughthis
attention.

'Bulkrate?'
'Ofcourse,butIdoubtthatsirwouldbeinterestedinthat.'
'No,no,Iam.Tellmeaboutit.'

'Verywell,sir.Bulkrate,fourhundredandfiftypounds,wouldbeforalargejob.
Tenpeople.'
Peterwonderedifhehadheardcorrectly.'Tenpeople?Butthat'sonlyfortyfive
poundseach.'
'Yes,sir.It'sthelargeorderthatmakesitprofitable.'

'Isee,'saidPeter,and'Hmm,'saidPeter,and'Couldyoubehereatthesametime
tomorrownight?'
'Ofcourse,sir.'

Uponarrivinghome,Petergotoutascrapofpaperandapen.Hewrotethe
numbersonetotendownonesideandthenfilleditinasfollows:

1.Archie.
2..Gwennie.
3..

andsoforth.
Havingfilledinthefirsttwo,hesatsuckinghispen,huntingforwrongsdoneto
himandpeopletheworldwouldbebetteroffwithout.
Hesmokedacigarette.Hestrolledaroundtheroom.
Aha!Therewasaphysicsteacherataschoolhehadattendedwhohaddelighted
inmakinghislifeamisery.Whatwastheman'snameagain?Andforthatmatter,
washestillalive?Peterwasn'tsure,buthewroteThePhysicsTeacher,Abbot
StreetSecondarySchoolnexttothenumberthree.Thenextcamemoreeasily
hisdepartmentheadhadrefusedtoraisehissalaryacoupleofmonthsback;that
theraisehadeventuallycomewasimmaterial.MrHuntersonwasnumberfour.

Whenhewasfive,aboynamedSimonEllishadpouredpaintonhisheadwhile
anotherboynameJamessomebodyorotherhadheldhimdownandagirl
namedSharonHarsharpehadlaughed.Theywerenumbersfivethroughseven,
respectively.
Whoelse?
Therewasthemanontelevisionwiththeannoyingsnickerwhoreadthenews.
Hewentonthelist.Andwhataboutthewomanintheflatnextdoorwiththe
littleyappydogthatshatinthehall?Heputherandthedogdownonnine.Ten
wasthehardest.Hescratchedhisheadandwentintothekitchenforacupof
coffee,thendashedbackandwroteMyGreatUncleMervyndowninthetenth
place.Theoldmanwasrumouredtobequiteaffluent,andtherewasapossibility
(albeitratherslim)thathecouldleavePetersomemoney.
Withthesatisfactionofanevening'sworkwelldone,hewentofftobed.
MondayatClamageswasroutine;Peterwasaseniorsalesassistantinthebooks
department,ajobthatactuallyentailedverylittle.Heclutchedhislisttightlyin
hishand,deepinhispocket,rejoicinginthefeelingofpowerthatitgavehim.He
spentamostenjoyablelunchhourinthecanteenwithyoungGwendolyn(who
didnotknowthathehadseenherandArchieenterthestockroomtogether)and
evensmiledatthesmoothyoungmanfromtheaccountingdepartmentwhenhe
passedhiminthecorridor.
HeproudlydisplayedhislisttoKemblethatevening.

Thelittlesalesman'sfacefell.
'I'mafraidthisisn'ttenpeople,MrPinter,'heexplained.'You'vecountedthe
womaninthenextdoorflatandherdogasoneperson.Thatbringsittoeleven,
whichwouldbeanextra'hispocketcalculatorwasrapidlydeployed'anextra
seventypounds.Howaboutifweforgetthedog?'
Petershookhishead.'Thedog'sasbadasthewoman.Orworse.'
'ThenI'mafraidwehaveaslightproblem.Unless'

'What?'
'Unlessyou'dliketotakeadvantageofourwholesalerate.Butofcoursesir
wouldn'tbe'

Therearewordsthatdothingstopeople;wordsthatmakepeople'sfacesflush
withjoy,excitement,orpassion.Environmentalcanbeone;occultisanother.
WholesalewasPeter's.Heleanedbackinhischair.'Tellmeaboutit,'hesaidwith
thepractisedassuranceofanexperiencedshopper.
'Well,sir,'saidKemble,allowinghimselfalittlechuckle,'wecan,uh,getthemfor
youwholesale,seventeenpoundsfiftyeach,foreveryquarryafterthefirstfifty,
oratennereachforeveryoneovertwohundred.'
'Isupposeyou'dgodowntoafiverifIwantedathousandpeopleknockedoff?'

'Ohno,sir,'Kemblelookedshocked.'Ifyou'retalkingthosesortsoffigures,we
candothemforaquideach.'

'Onepound?'
'That'sright,sir.There'snotabigprofitmarginonit,butthehighturnoverand
productivitymorethanjustifiesit.'
Kemblegotup.'Sametimetomorrow,sir?'
Peternodded.
Onethousandpounds.Onethousandpeople.PeterPinterdidn'tevenknowa
thousandpeople.EvensothereweretheHousesofParliament.Hedidn'tlike
politicians;theysquabbledandarguedandcarriedonso.
Andforthatmatter
Anidea,shockinginitsaudacity.Bold.Daring.Still,theideawasthereandit
wouldn'tgoaway.Adistantcousinofhishadmarriedtheyoungerbrotherofan
earlorabaronorsomething

Onthewayhomefromworkthatafternoon,hestoppedoffatalittleshopthathe
hadpassedathousandtimeswithoutentering.Ithadalargesigninthewindow
guaranteeingtotraceyourlineageforyouandevendrawupacoatofarmsifyou
happenedtohavemislaidyourownandanimpressiveheraldicmap.Maybe
nowthatthedarknesshadliftedfromhermindallshewantedwastobewith
herfamilyagain.
Theywereveryhelpfulandphonedhimupjustafterseventogivehimtheir
news.
Ifapproximatelyfourteenmillion,seventytwothousand,eighthundredand
elevenpeopledied,he,PeterPinter,wouldbeKingofEngland.
Hedidn'thavefourteenmillion,seventytwothousand,eighthundredandeleven
pounds:buthesuspectedthatwhenyouweretalkinginthosefigures,Mr
Kemblewouldhaveoneofhisspecialdiscounts.

MrKembledid.
Hedidn'tevenraiseaneyebrow.
'Actually,'heexplained,'itworksoutquitecheaply;yousee,wewouldn'thaveto
dothemallindividually.Smallscalenuclearweapons,somejudiciousbombing,
gassing,plague,droppingradiosinswimmingpools,andthenmoppingupthe
stragglers.Sayfourthousandpounds.'

'Fourthou?'That'sincredible!'
Thesalesmanlookedpleasedwithhimself.'Ouroperativeswillbegladofthe
work,sir.'Hegrinned.'Weprideourselvesonservicingourwholesale
customers.'
ThewindblewcoldasPeterleftthepub,settingtheoldsignswinging.Itdidn't
lookmuchlikeadirtydonkey,thoughtPeter.Morelikeapalehorse.
Peterwasdriftingofftosleepthatnight,mentallyrehearsinghiscoronation
speech,whenathoughtdriftedintohisheadandhungaround.Itwouldnotgo
away.Couldhecouldhepossiblybepassingupanevenlargersavingthanhe
alreadyhad?Couldhebemissingoutonabargain?
Peterclimbedoutofbedandwalkedovertothephone.Itwasalmost3A.M.,but
evenso
HisYellowPageslayopenwherehehadleftitthepreviousSaturday,andhe
dialledthenumber.
Thephoneseemedtoringforever.Therewasaclickandaboredvoicesaid,
'BurkeHareKetch.CanIhelpyou?'
'IhopeI'mnotphoningtoolate'hebegan.
'Ofcoursenot,sir.'

'IwaswonderingifIcouldspeaktoMrKemble.'
'Canyouhold?I'llseeifhe'savailable.'
Peterwaitedforacoupleofminutes,listeningtotheghostlycracklesand
whispersthatalwaysechodownemptyphonelines.
'Areyouthere,caller?'
'Yes,I'mhere.'

'Puttingyouthrough.'Therewasabuzz,then'Kemblespeaking.'
'Ah,MrKemble.Hello.SorryifIgotyououtofbedoranything.Thisis,um,Peter
Pinter.'
'Yes,MrPinter?'
'Well,I'msorryit'ssolate,onlyIwaswonderingHowmuchwoulditcosttokill
everybody?Everybodyintheworld?'
'Everybody?Allthepeople?'
'Yes.Howmuch?Imean,foranorderlikethat,you'dhavetohavesomekindofa
bigdiscount.Howmuchwoulditbe?Foreveryone?'
'Nothingatall,MrPinter.'

'Youmeanyouwouldn'tdoit?'
'Imeanwe'ddoitfornothing,MrPinter.Weonlyhavetobeasked,yousee.We
alwayshavetobeasked.'

Peterwaspuzzled.'Butwhenwouldyoustart?'
'Start?Rightaway.Now.We'vebeenreadyforalongtime.Butwehadtobe
asked,MrPinter.Goodnight.Ithasbeenapleasuredoingbusinesswithyou.'
Thelinewentdead.
Peterfeltstrange.Everythingseemedverydistant.Hewantedtositdown.What
onearthhadthemanmeant?'Wealwayshavetobeasked.'Itwasdefinitely
strange.Nobodydoesanythingfornothinginthisworld;hehadagoodmindto
phoneKemblebackandcallthewholethingoff.Perhapshehadoverreacted,
perhapstherewasaperfectlyinnocentreasonwhyArchieandGwendolynhad
enteredthestockroomtogether.Hewouldtalktoher,that'swhathe'ddo.He'd
talktoGwenniefirstthingtomorrowmorning
Thatwaswhenthenoisesstarted.

Oddcriesfromacrossthestreet.Acatfight?Foxesprobably.Hehopedsomeone
wouldthrowashoeatthem.Then,fromthecorridoroutsidehisflat,hehearda
muffledclumping,asifsomeoneweredraggingsomethingveryheavyalongthe
floor.Itstopped.Someoneknockedonhisdoor,twice,verysoftly.

Outsidehiswindowthecriesweregettinglouder.Petersatinhischair,knowing
thatsomehow,somewhere,hehadmissedsomething.Somethingimportant.The
knockingredoubled.Hewasthankfulthathealwayslockedandchainedhisdoor
atnight.

They'dbeenreadyforalongtime,buttheyhadtobeasked

Whenthethingcamethroughthedoor,Peterstartedscreaming,buthereally
didn'tscreamforverylong.