The Messenger In Literature

From The Information by Martin Amis ...
... He stood outside waiting for the biker sent to collect his review. Who was prompt. Here he came, complacently speeding through the torment of his brutish raspberry, his black body cocked with the biker's sperious urgency, as if he what he was doing was so clearly more important than what you were doing. Was it his crash helmet that went on fizzing and squawking at him, like an fat old earphone? Biker and book reviewer bawled 'Cheers' at each other and did the thing with the clipboard and the ball point, these two eyesore deviants, the biker in his city scuba gear, the book reviewer with bar legs beneath the cold skirt of his raincoat. Book reviewer would be around for a while, but bikers would soon be gone, or would all switch to pizzas and baked potatoes - casualties of the fax.