CXXXlX

Inside Job

     For the next couple of months everything went along just fine. Then one Saturday evening, Henry shows up in a brand new suit looking like he hit the lottery. Only there was no lottery back then. He was looking sharper than Gillette; buying everybody drinks; and sporting a brand new, sparkling diamond, pinky ring.

     “Sombody musta died an left ya some, uh?” Pat asked.

    Henry smiled, and didn’t say anything. After an hour he left, and not long after, Ted came in looking for Henry.

     “Anybody seen Hank, ya na Henry…da freaking perferser?’

     “Ya jest missed him.” Pat responded.

     “Yea he was jest hea, looking like he jest stepped outa GQ, man.”

     “Damn…he looked like he inherited a small fortune, dude.”

     “What happened, Ted…sompen wrong?”

     “Yea last nite somebody bwoke ina safe. Da cops think it was an inside job, and Henry is no wa to be found.”

     “He don tol me he was ada wacetwak, won big time.”

     “Damn!”

     “An am again dude…wat freaking luck, uh!”

     “Luck my awse, man! Cops think he’s a poison a inast, but I na dat  moderforcker don did it.”

      “But he was clean, man.”

      “Yea he looked cleanah than Phillip Morris, man.”

      “Clean my ass! If I get…I hope da cops gits im foist!!”

      “Hea man, have a Hennessy, calm down,” Pat said as he gave him a drink.

     He gulped it down, and

      “Gimme anoda un will ya Pat,” then said, “Damn I knew I shouldn’t have trusted dat damned junkey. I just knew it!” He said it as he slammed his hand, hard, down on the bar.