Patton Lee Beaugus | November 29, 2010 2:45pmHiTone
“HiTone,” she said brightly.
The big guy gave her back a scowl.
She then spoke in a hard tone I hadn’t heard before, “Back off, HiTone. I didn’t say anything. And if I did what’re you going to do about it?”
I looked down from her pretty face at her pretty leg which she had lifted up onto the booth seat making her little dress show about as much thigh as possible. And a very nice thigh it was. And her panties were all Christmassy.
What I didn’t notice right away, busy admiring other things, was that in her pretty hand was wrapped around a small ugly gun that had suddenly appeared out of her high black boots. “Anyway, this is the guy.”
So there I was in Rudy’s bar sitting next to this hot young blonde who seems ready to shoot it out with this tall number in a zoot suit and long striped scarf.
The guy pulled open his zoot suit jacket to flash a short shotgun of some kind. Maybe it was one of those Sicilian lupos, like in Godfather II. He also had an aluminum baseball bat, and what might have been an Acme weedwacker. “You really want to play, Walsh? Right here? Right now?”
“Just back off, HiTone. Or you’ll find out the hard way — like the Tarantula from 12 did.”
I didn’t know where to look. This guy looked mean. Even his little mustache looked mean. Molly’s eyes were hard. Her gun was hard. Her thighs looked soft above her black boots and red-stripped stockings. And by raising her leg onto the seat to pull her gun out of her boots, I noticed her cotton panties seemed to read Merry Christmas in very small letters because they are very small panties, indeed. As their staring contest continued in silence, being of a literary bent, I tried to see if there is any more writing on the panties.
I think Molly noticed me noticing, but she turned her head back to stare down the big guy.
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This text will be replaced by the flash music player.
The jukebox started playing Lou Monte's "Dominick The Italian Christmas Donkey" which is almost as legendary in certain New York and New Jersey communities as Frank Sinatra, John Gotti, or Christopher Columbus, the man who discovered the Dominican Republic. Molly smiled and said, "They're playing your song. A nice tune to die by." |
 He laughed. “I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.” She laughed back at him, “I’d never wack you in front of so many witnesses.” She hid the pistol back in her boot. “From a mad dog like you, I’ll take that as a compliment.” “And this is the guy?” he asked. |
What guy? I thought.
"How do you know that Elmer Fudd here is the freaking Guy?"
"I feel it."
HiTone laughed. "You? Feel it?"
"In my heart."
"Walsh, we all know you have a bloody computer where you’re heart should be."
"Then it calculates that Paddy is The Guy."
"I think I gotta go." I said closing my computer.
"I don't think so," said HiTone, planting himself solidly on the other side of me in the booth.
WTF had I got myself into?
