The rabbit cradled the jug in his elbow and guzzled down a healthy swig. Almost . Let me explain our position with regard to Roger Rabbit, he said, without the. “Who'd want to kill a dumb cartoon bunny?” That's what Eddie Valiant wants to know. He's the toughest private eye in Los Angeles, and he'll handle anything – if . Available ebook formats: epub mobi pdf rtf lrf pdb txt html Tags: humor walt disney animation gary k wolf roger rabbit gary wolf who framed.
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Editorial Reviews. Review. This anticmystery, in a tradition -- and on a terrain -- familiar to fans of RaymondChandler and Ross Macdonald, amuses as it. About the Book. The gritty, original version of the classic WB-Disney crossover film. Explore the origins of the Roger Rabbit story through the. So he reluctantly agrees when Roger Rabbit, a Toon who plays straight man (or should Then Rocco DeGreasy is murdered – and Roger is the prime suspect!.
Who Censored Roger Rabbit? NYC, St. The narrator is Eddie Valiant, a stereotypical cheap private eye whose cynicism masks a basic idealism. He operates in Los Angeles, the stereotypical Tinseltown whose glittering stars have empty heads and rotten hearts. Wolf has done much more than simply postulate live Mickey Mouse-type characters mingling with humans.
This riotously surreal spoof of the hard-boiled detective novel is packed with action and laughs. From first page to last, Who Censored Roger Rabbit? Celebrated author Gary K. Wolf's cult classic and highly praised novel Who Censored Roger Rabbit? The detective on the cover is portrayed by Mr. Based on Gary K. Wolf's novel Who Censored Roger Rabbit? Apr 23, a mission - download windows 8 professional build activator torrent.
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Who Censored Roger Rabbit? Wolf St. Danger reviewed on on April 30, In the beginning Eddie is not very interested in the case that Roger gives him until Roger and Rocco ends up dead. What is every one hiding?
In the book we find out that all the suspects including Roger Rabbit have there own secrets that they might not wish to get out. There is also a surprise in who killed the rabbit. Try figuring it out. Your bound to change your answer on what really is happening. Sharon E.
Cathcart reviewed on on March 24, Wolf has created a world in which humans and Toons live side-by-side in only the worst parts of town: His protagonist, private detective Eddie Valiant, is initially hired by Roger Rabbit to help get his wife, Jessica, off the hook for the murder of Rocco deGreasy. Then Roger himself is killed, and his doppelganger continues alongside Valiant on both cases. There's none of the slapstick humor that I anticipated; instead, there's some solid detective novel goodies in these pages.
Highly recommended. Cesare Falco reviewed on on Jan. You can't compare the book with the Disney Film. This is no juvenile literature, no way. Toons live side-by-side with humans, all around the world. They are no cuddly stars, just there to provide entertainment to humans. They "love and hate and cry and laugh", they struggle for their carreer, they have secrets to keep.
They kill. The whole atmosphere is darker. Eddie Valiant relies on cards to pay the rent, he's a decent man and still a true alcohol lover. You won't see a single character with no vices here. If you ask me, I tend to prefer the book.
What with the scathing remarks in Eddie's thoughts and the weirdness of the toons speaking in baloons, I can't remind of a single boring chapter. Tough with not much action, the story becomes more and more intriguing just to take a final unexpected twist. Which also happens to be the only flaw in my opinion, as a matter of fact, I don't like misteries dealing with totally unforeseeable event. But, in Eddie's words, with Toons you know enough to expect the ridiculous! Crescent Suns eBooks reviewed on on April 15, I've always loved the movie "Who Framed Roger Rabbit?
There was a lot different from the book to the movie, but we all know that's how the movie biz works, right? The differences were nothing to lessen my enjoyment of the book, rather they enhanced my reading, since I didn't know automatically what to expect from start to finish. I heartily recommend this book to anyone who has understood from our beloved Roger what the true essence of the universe really is. Report this book. I had undertaken numerous unjust causes in the course of my career, and for a lot less than all the cash in the world.
A lot less. The rabbit picked a walnut-inlaid cigar box off a mushroom-shaped coffee table. I looked inside. Sure enough, carrots, carefully selected for uniformity of color, size, and shape, and alternated big end to little end so that the maximum number of them could be squeezed inside. The rabbit selected a chunky specimen for himself and gnawed at it noisily, freckling his chin with tiny orange chips that flaked off in the gap between his front incisors. About a year ago, the DeGreasy brothers, the cartoon syndicate, told me that if I signed with them they would give me my own strip.
He laid his half-eaten carrot on an end table beside a display of framed and autographed photos, some human, some Toon. Edgar Hoover. Instead they made me a second banana to a dopey, obese, thumb sucking sniveler named Baby Herman. My contract binds me to the DeGreasys for another twenty years.
When I asked them to release me so I could look for work elsewhere, they refused. Being somewhat an amateur private eye myself, I did some legwork. He displayed a hind limb that would have looked exceptionally good dangling from the end of a key-chain. I nosed around the industry and uncovered a rumor that someone wants to download out my contract and give me a starring. Sounded horribly boring, but one more look at his check convinced me to at least go through the motions.
I hauled out my notebook and pen. Normally I would have asked some questions about his background and personal life but, since I only intended to give this case a lick and a promise anyway, why bother?
I stopped off at a newsstand and bought a candy bar for lunch and a paper to read while I ate it, making sure to get a receipt for my expense report. The rabbit appeared in one panel out of the four, barely visible behind the smoke and flame of an exploding cigar given him by Baby Herman. I folded the paper shut.
Hardly an earthshaking caper, this one. A fast buck and not much more. But what did I expect? Hobnobbing with a rabbit only gets you to Wonderland in fairy tales. The two were human, although almost comical in their marked resemblance to one another. Their ridged foreheads formed a wobble of demarcation between bowl-shaped haircuts and frizzy eyebrows. Their noses would have looked perfect behind a chrome horn bolted to the handlebars of a bicycle.
Smudgy moustaches curtained their circular porthole mouths. Their biceps looked to be half the size of their forearms. Had the DeGreasy boys been discovered frozen beneath some Arctic tundra, a good case would probably have been made for them being the long-sought missing link between humans and Toons.
But, as funny as they looked, when I checked them out, they had come up professional and efficient, the most astute guys in the comic strip business. I gave my card to Rocco, the eldest, who passed it across his handsome antique desk to his brother Dominick.
Not wanting to spend a minute longer than necessary on this case, I came straight to the point. I told them Roger Rabbit had hired me to find out why they refused to honor their contractual obligation to star him in a strip of his own.
Rocco chuckled, then scowled, the way a father might when he sees his youngster do something irritating but cute. Let me explain our position with regard to Roger Rabbit, he said, without the slightest trace of rancor. His precise manner of speech and his six-bit vocabulary gave me quite a surprise. My brother Dominick and I signed Roger specifically because we felt he would play well as a foil for Baby Herman.
We never made any mention of a solo strip then or since. Roger frequently concocts absurd stories such as this one. We tolerate his delusions because of his great popularity with his audience. Roger makes a perfect fall guy, and his fans love him for it. However, he does not have the charisma to carry a strip of his own. We never even considered giving him one.
Right, Dominick? Rocco got up, opened a file drawer, and pulled out a sheaf of papers, which he handed to me.
Read it through. And it stipulates a very generous salary, I might add. He closed the drawer and returned to his chair. We have treated Roger fairly and ethically.
He has no reason whatsoever to complain. I flipped through the contract. It seemed to be in order. Rocco and Dominick exchanged quizzical glances and shrugged more or less in unison. News to us, said Rocco. If someone did approach us with an offer for Roger, if it made financial sense, and if Roger wanted to go, we would gladly sell him off. He stood and ushered me to the door.
Mister Valiant, I suggest you consider this case closed, and next time get yourself a more mentally stable client. I took a few random jogs. The trench coat, broad-brimmed hat, and large sunglasses matched me move for move. A tail. I let him get three paces past, then jumped him, grabbing his arm. I twisted it behind his back and slammed him against the nearest wall. Kind of observe from a distance. I released my grip, and snatched away the broad-brimmed hat, exposing a set of carefully accordioned eighteen-inch ears.
Look, I told the rabbit, honing the hat against his concave chest, when I have something worthwhile to report, I get in touch. Otherwise you stay away from me.
The rabbit smoothed out his ears. However, the left one sprang back into a tight clump giving his head the lopsided appearance of a half-straightened paper clip.
Yes, I understand. He fiddled with his ear, fiddled with his sunglasses, fiddled with the buttons on his trench coat, until finally he ran out of externals and began to fiddle with his soul. Him and ten million others. Toon mystery strips suckered them into believing that knights-errant always won. Yeah, maybe Rip Kirby bats a thousand. But I consider it great if I go one for ten. Forget it, I said. He took it in stride. I never said they put in writing that bit about me getting my own strip, he countered.
They made the offer verbally, and Rocco repeated it several times since. He said it once at a photo session in front of Baby Herman and Carol Masters, my photographer. Just ask them.
As for my being crazy, yes, I see a psychiatrist, but so do half the Toons in the business. That hardly qualifies me as a full-blown looney. The whole mess sounds like a job for a lawyer. Such persuasive words.