It was another cold Chicago Night, and Nick Malone was testing his account…
Noir. Not Nior.
A man at the end of a bar called out to me “HEY NICK” he said “I don’t like the WAY you go around SPELLING THINGS!”
The man was obviously drunk, and I reconized him as someone who was only known as “The 984”. A big wig in the city I call home. I titled my pork pie hat up and gave him the old stink eye. I let my .38 co-author stay in it’s vacation home, as I didn’t need a ghost writer tonight. You see ol’ Nick Malone is a one trick pony, and that trick happens to be finding solutions to problems at the bottom of a bottle. I poured myself another shot of RC cola and put the brim of my hat back over my eyes. It was another cold night in the windy city, and I didn’t want any trouble.
piano solo and fade out
nick malone i would smash a bottle over your black-and-white stetson
It was a hot and steamy night…
shit, left the shower on.