I hate

It was another cold chicago night, and insomina had me more awake then a tree salesman on chirstmas. It was the standard saturday night for me, I had myself a magnum of the cheapest boose o’l Sam was willing to sell at his corner store. I kept my self entertained as I always do by thowing 52 bicycles into my broken down pork pie hat. No sir, I wasn’t sleeping tonight, hell, the pope would sooner convert to judaism faster then I was dozing off…

…Something was on my mind tonight, something I think of a lot, something that makes this old detective’s bones break down at the core when I think about it. Something I can’t live with but unfortunatly can’t live without. Hell, you’d have to be stupider then my probation officer to not know what I’m talkin’ about. It’s the dames, the dames, always the god damn dames.

I tell ya, they never don’t have legs that don’t quit, not one case goes by were I don’t have to deal with dame with more curves then the chicago turnpike. Even when a suit comes in, hands me a fist full of 20s to help his poor ass out, it’s always some dame, dressed in red, and I tell ya, they always play with your damn heart.

I’m not what you’d call a “thinkin’” man, but I can get job done, but one thing is fer sure, I’d get it done a lot faster if it wern’t for those pesky dames. I tell ya, one time I’d like to tell one of those pairs of legs to take their case and shove it all the way back to Rockford, but do I, nahhh, then I wouldn’t get paid, and hell, when I don’t get paid, my monkey don’t get fed, and when my monkey don’t get fed, well, old Nick Malone here gets real desperate.

fade out to piano solo

The wind rises electric. She’s soft and warm and almost weightless. Her perfume is sweet promise that brings tears to my eyes. I tell her that everything will be all right; that I’ll save her from whatever she’s scared and take her far far away. I tell her that I love her. The silencer makes a whisper of the gunshot. I hold her close until she’s gone. I’ll never know what she was running from. I’ll cash her check in the morning.

Those rubes in Sin City ain’t got nothin’ on me

^.~ <3

Thats a nice coat you got there. Take it off.

how about you put on a couple more coats instead? some fur coats… oh yeah then that’ll be hot… sooooo hot…

You’re mom aint got nothin on me! But I got somthin on your moooom, can you guess what it was?

I hate Noir too.

Man, I wanna be jus’ like you when I grow up, Nick_Malone! :biggrin: