I was desperate. My whole operation was going down the drain and I knew there was only one man I could turn to. One man who could get the job that I needed done right. I swore I would never speak to him again, but fate has a funny way of choking you with your own words.
“Its been a long time… Shoe Face.”
-I knew Flat Top would be back. Me and him have a long history. We knew everything about each other. That’s the kind of thing that happens when you used to be physically attached to someone. That’s right, we were conjoined twins. But I decided to play dumb, feel out the situation.
“You’ll have to forgive me, I… don’t speak English.”
-At that point I started to wonder if I had walked into the wrong brothel. But then I saw the enormous disfiguring scar on his head. There was no doubt about it, that used to be me. I knew he was playing dumb, so I tried to call his bluff.
“Could you hold this for a minute?”
-I had no idea why he just handed me a half eaten sandwich. But I could tell he was desperate. I figured I might as well come clean. He looked like he needed my help, and I did owe him one.
“Alright, Top. What’s your game? Has some red robin picked your basket for the last time? Have all your pawns jumped ship and made a suicide run for the muffin man? Spill it, buster.”
-I always hated his elaborate metaphors.
1 comment:
ahhh...sweet sweet whose line...
judging by the book u loaned me, i think this particular skit/writing style (detective noir) could be one of your specialties.
for 30 min., this isn't half-bad. just needs some fine-tuning i'd say.
the "i don't speak english" line is especially good. did they ever use that?
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