Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium Page #4

and today threw a fit

in fear of my egress.

You see, I've tried

to imbue this store

with the same attitude,

imagination and emotion

as the children who

come to play in it,

and as such, it is prone

to the same outbursts

as its sometimes puerile clientele.

Like a temper tantrum.

Precisely, Mahoney.

- Maybe it needs a time-out.

- Hmm.

I'm sorry. How can a store

throw a temper tantrum?

Did no one explain

to the Mutant that it's

- a magical toy store?

- I tried.

It's a magical toy store, Mutant.

It can do all sorts of things.

But it didn't start turning gray

until Henry showed up.

Me?

I realize that, Eric.

Wh-What?

Oh, Mutant!

I'm sorry, if I'm making

your magical playland

go on the fritz,

I can just submit

a form and get another agent.

Does your whole job

consist of submitting forms?

No, Mahoney, sometimes

I receive them.

- Kind of half and half.

- Order. Order, order.

Receive some, submit some.

- But... this underscores

- Order, order.

The fact that I'm in no way

responsible for anything

that may have happened

in the Emporium today.

I was just in the office working.

There's that "just" word again.

Give it a rest for

"just" a second, please,

on the "just" word-

just the adults'll talk.

- Okay? So it's just...

- Eee...

nough!

Although

Mr. Weston's presence

has coincided with the store's

dismay, it is not the cause.

The only reason

Mr. Weston is here

is to determine

my legacy to Mahoney.

- Your legacy?

- Mm-hmm.

You mean, Mahoney gets

to run the store?

How cool!

What do you mean, your legacy?

You're his heir; you're in his will.

Why is there a will?

Why do you know there's a will?

I told you,

my sweet.

I'm leaving.

But... I thought you meant,

like, retirement or... vacation.

What kind of leaving

you talking about?

Mahoney.

I think he means

he's going to heaven.

- Right?

- Heaven, Elysium, Shangri-la.

I may return as a bumblebee.

Are you dying?

Lightbulbs die, my sweet;

I will depart.

- Wait...

Mahoney.

Wait.

Are you sick?

No.

No?

Well, then when exactly

were you planning to depart?

Around 4:
30.

This morning he was talking gibberish.

Gibberish?!

- And then he grew feverish

and he collapsed.

I did no such thing!

Uh, for at least five minutes.

And then when he came to,

he was... he was like this.

- Delusional?

- Delusional?!

I'm not delusional!

He hasn't been making any sense.

Oh, bunkum!

Hogwash!

Pure horseradish!

He claims he owns

a magical toy store.

I do. You work there.

And that he's 242 years old

and an inventor.

I am not 242 years old!

I'm 243. You were at

my birthday party.

You brought me balloons.

Yeah, he's delusional.

He may have had a stroke.

A stroke?!

You unbrookable ninny!

The only stroke I have ever had

is one of genius!

Okay. Nurse, can we

get him a sedative?

Why are you lying like this?

Because I have to.

But your pants will catch fire.

I don't care, sir.

You have to live.

Darling...

I have.

Hi.

Hi.

Uh, this is really hard.

Yeah. It is.

Because I got to tell you,

I'm really worried.

Me, too.

I can't track down

any insurance documents

for the life of me.

What?

Hospital bills are astronomical

these days.

- Mutant.

- Yeah?

He might be dying.

That means that we should be

even more prepared.

Prepared? I found out

about this an hour ago.

You know, I'm trying to be helpful.

Well, you're being

positively dreadful!

- Hey, it's just that...

- Just what?

Well, nothing.

Maybe you should "just" go home.

- I can stay...

- Mutant.

Go home.

All right.

Will any algae specialist

call extension 4324 stat?

- You know...

- Hi.

You shouldn't be

so hard on the Mutant.

He wants to talk about insurance.

I know, but...

it's the only thing

he knows how to talk about.

What are we gonna do?

I don't know.

But there's kind of another problem.

What?

Mr. Magorium...

Yeah?

He... doesn't have any pajamas.

The doctors can't find

anything wrong with you.

Of course not.

I'm perfectly healthy.

Then why are you leaving?

It's my time to go.

That's it?

What else could there be?

What are we gonna do without you?

Run the store.

Sir, I don't know how.

That's why I gave you

the Congreve Cube.

But it just sits there.

What have you done with it?

I don't know what to do with it.

It's a block of wood.

Can you think of nothing?

Well, I'm sure I could think of

a million things to do with it.

There are a million things

one might do with

a block of wood,

but, Mahoney, what do

you think might happen

if someone just once...

...believed in it?

Sir, I don't understand.

Eric!

What task delivers

such a wee and hale

stripling

to this chamber for the ill

and barely insured?

Hello, Doctor.

I brought you some stuff

I thought you might need

from the gift shop.

Super!

Eric, would

you mind

keeping Mr. Magorium

company while I go

speak to the doctor?

Sure.

Mahoney, why do you need the doctor?

Are you sick?

What you got, Eric?

Okay.

- Okay.

- Here we go.

Here we go.

PJs.

Yes!

A toothbrush.

Ah, morning becomes electric!

And...

A microscope.

Oh...

A water hose.

And a nozzle.

Ooh!

A plank of wood.

Well, plank you.

And... this.

Whoa!

Eric, what is that?

It's a euphonium.

Magnificent! Hand it here.

If there's nothing wrong with

him, we have to discharge him.

We can't be responsible

for men of perfect health,

no matter how old or magic

they claim to be.

So the fact is,

you have to take him home.

No.

You have to understand,

he's decided it's his time to go.

Then the best thing you can do

is make sure

he has plenty to live for.

What in God's name?

What on earth are you doing?

Practicing the euphonium.

The-the what?

I thought I might give a concert

in the psych ward tomorrow.

There are people trying to sleep.

Doesn't this hospital

need a signature

to remove a patient's euphonium?

Where the heck

did you even find this?

I found it.

In a supply closet.

We don't keep

musical instruments

in our supply closets.

Well, where else

could I have found it?

What are you doing up there?

Standing on a chair.

Okay, that's it,

both of you,

out of here- come on, let's go.

You can come and see him tomorrow.

Bye.

Good-bye, Eric.

Good-bye, Mahoney.

Don't leave before tomorrow.

Agreed.

As for you,

young man, you need your rest.

I agree.

This has been exhausting.

What was that boy doing

on the chair?

Making sure

I have enough space to sleep in.

All right, if you're supposed to help me,

if you're supposed

to impart some great wisdom

that's gonna help me

fix everything...

Please...

...do it now.

All right, I'll do it myself.

Hmm...

This chapter is called

"A Change of Heart...

of Mind... of Pants. "

Morning.

Hi. Morning.

How's he doing?

Look, Mutant, I'm just grabbing

a few of Mr. Magorium's things,

and then I'm leaving for the day.

Yeah, yeah. Just here

to work in the office.

Unless...

you want me to work out here.

You can work

wherever you like, Mutant.

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