| I am the Big Shot
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| You heard me right the first time. |
| Name of batchelor Johnny Cool.
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| Occupation: Big Shot. |
| Occupation at the moment: just having fun.
|
| What a party that was — the drinks were loaded and so were the dolls
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| I narrowed my eyes and poured a stiff Manhattan. |
| Then I saw… Hotsie.
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| What a dame. |
| A big, bountiful babe in the region of 48−23−38. |
| One hell of a
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| region. |
| She had the hottest lips since Hiroshima: I had to stand back for fear
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| of being burned. |
| Whiskey wow wow. |
| I breathed. |
| She was dressed as before the bed.
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| In that kind of outfit she could get rolled at night… and I don’t mean on a
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| crap table
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| It’s kind of revealing, isn’t it? |
| Revealing? |
| It’s positively risqu — I like it.
|
| She said: «You're a man with a thousand Gs, right?»
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| «A thousand what?» |
| I quipped. |
| «G-men, girls, guns, guts.»
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| «You're my type.»
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| «Wrong, baby» I slapped her hard. |
| «I'm a `L' man: strictly liquor,
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| love and laughs.»
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| She stared over my shoulder: «Play it cool, Johnny.» |
| Play it what? |
| I flipped.
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| «Listen, I fought my way up from tough East Side New York. |
| Lead-filled saps
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| and sub-machine guns, like this.»
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| She said: «Johnny, this is a deadly game, have a few laughs and go home.
|
| «I shuddered. |
| Normally I pack a rod in pyjamas — I carry nothing but scars
|
| from Normandy beach. |
| I said «Wrong, baby, you can’t fool me.» |
| She spat
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| playfully. |
| «I'm ahead of you, Johnny.» |
| I studied the swell of her enormous
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| boobs and said: «Baby, you’re so far ahead it’s beautiful.»
|
| «You, you are, you are eccentric, I like that.»
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| «Electric cheri, bounce off my rocket, tout comprende?» |
| We spoke French
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| fluently. |
| Our lips met again and again. |
| «Yeah, yeah yeah» I slobbered.
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| Hotsie said: «You're slobbering all over the seat, kid.»
|
| I went home late. |
| Very late. |
| What could I say to m |