This case is very personal to me. Because it happened to me...
Exactly 32 years ago I lost a hand at black jack aboard a river casino... but something was as fishy as the waters beneath us. I looked around but couldn't figure it out... was someone at the table cheating?
It never occurred to me that it might be the dealer... but then he dealt me a whole stack of evidence when I saw him at his retirement home last Sunday. He was talking to another old man... who looked like a crime boss. I should know a fiery old criminal when I see one... my name's Henry Flame.
I approached the old dealer.
"You cheated me old man! You cheated me for the mob!"
He stared at me sullenly... or maybe it was confusedly... I think it was confusedly.
"What?"
"You cheated me! You cheated me at black jack!"
"I don't think I did... I haven't played black jack for..."
"32 years." I finished his thought. 1977 was my year.
Anyway, I yelled at him for a while, and finally he coughed up the $5 he cheated me out of so long ago... he claims he doesn't remember... he also claims that I'm a mad man for holding a ridiculous grudge for 32 years.
Is it a grudge? Or is it justice.
My crime solving streak continued... The fall of Roman... only leads to my success.
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I maintain you cheated yourself at blackjack. You private eyes and your dames and your tan trenchcoats and your deep voiced-monologues as the camera pans over the city and your interruption of a simple working man's life on a riverboat.
ReplyDeleteI also maintain that Big Tony was uninvolved in that drive by Thompsoning of your office. That must have been you too. Yeah, see?
-Roman (not the one that assaults small children,the other one. You know, from college. There was this one time we were in Harper Joy, and a Moose bit my sister...)