16I didn't have to wait long. A loud banging on the door followed by “Open up, you creep” got my full attention.
I grabbed my .38 and said, “Come on in, you lousy spic bastard. I'm ready for you.”
“And we're ready for you, too, you pimple on society's ass.”
The door flew open and there stood two of the city's finest: Detectives John “Jack the Ripper” O' Meara and Tony “Holy Canoli” Bruttafaccia from the 13th Precinct. From where I was sitting, their revolvers looked like cannons and were aimed squarely at me.
“Drop it, dickhead,” O'Meara ordered, “or we'll turn your ugly puss into Swiss cheese.”
I dropped my rod faster than I had dropped my old high school flame when I learned that she had the crabs.
“Okay, boys, take it easy. What's this all about? So I promised to buy a ticket to t
