Бойцовский клуб
Chapter 8
SoIcanwashthepants,Tylerhastoshowmehowtomakesoap. Tyler’supstairs,andthekitchenisfilledwiththesmellofclovesandburnthair. Marla’satthekitchentable,burningtheinsideofherarmwithaclovecigaretteandcallingherselfhumanbuttwipe.
"Iembracemyownfesteringdiseasedcorruption,"Marlatellsthecherryontheendofhercigarette. Marlatwiststhecigaretteintothesoftwhitebellyofherarm. "Burn,witch,burn."
Tyler’supstairsinmybedroom,lookingathisteethinmymirror,andsayshegotmeajobasabanquetwaiter,parttime.
"AtthePressmanHotel,ifyoucanworkintheevening,"Tylersays. "Thejobwillstokeyourclasshatred."
Yeah,Isay,whatever.
"Theymakeyouwearablackbowtie,"Tylersays. "Allyouneedtoworkthereisawhiteshirtandblacktrousers."
Soap,Tyler.Isay,weneedsoap. Weneedtomakesomesoap.Ineedtowashmypants.
IholdTyler’sfeetwhilehedoestwohundredsit-ups.
"Tomakesoap,firstwehavetorenderfat."Tylerisfullofusefulinformation.
Exceptfortheirhumping,MarlaandTylerareneverinthesameroom. IfTyler’saround,Marlaignoreshim. Thisisfamiliarground.
"Thebigsleep,`ValleyoftheDogs’style."
