Ting-A-Ling
faded image of my childhood pal, Jimmy White popped into my head and I could feel my temper begin to rise. My face flushed slightly and I wanted to brace the little bastard up against the table, slap a pair of handcuffs on him and then stab him in his fat butt with one of those sharp knives.
    Instead, I smiled sweetly and asked, “What can you tell me about your sauce?”
    Paris sort of shrugged and shook his head like he couldn’t believe I was that stupid. Then he said, “Get screwed, you prick. We both know why you’re here and it hasn’t got one God damned thing to do with a newspaper article. You got a message to deliver, do it, quit wasting my time and then get the hell out.”
    “Okay, fair enough,” I said and cut to the chase. “Danielle wants her fifty-grand back. Or, at the very least some sort of payment plan.”
    “Payment plan? I made her the beneficiary on my damn life insurance policy. Anything happens to this place and or any number of my other investments and she’s the beneficiary there as well. I’ll tell you another thing…”
    “I think she’s looking for something a little more immediate than thirty or forty years down the road. She lent you some cash with the idea you would pay her back. I think you even used the line, ‘You were good for it’ and ‘Your word was your bond.’ ”
    “That’s what it always is with your kind, isn’t it? You just can’t comprehend the intricacies of high finance, it’s simply beyond you. What you need to do is take…”
    I straightened and held my hand up to cut him off. “Wait a minute, I’m not finished. I know you’re a savvy guy. You rub shoulders with the ‘swells’, the movers and shakers here in town. You got the right people as friends. Let me just give you a word of advice. If you’re thinking of not paying her, maybe just lying low or even hiding, it took me about four minutes to find you. Only because my phone call was put on hold for three of those minutes. You may be some hot shot banker with a law degree, but you’re swimming in the same toilet with me right now. I’m the nice guy. Next time someone comes around they aren’t going to be so nice.”
    “You’re threatening me. Is that it? I should have known. Typical of your kind. Trying to scare me…I suppose you’re going to yell some ridiculous profanity next and beat your chest.”
    “No. I don’t threaten. I’m going to warn you right now, if I’m yelling there really isn’t a problem. But when I’m speaking softly, like I am now, that’s when I’m most dangerous.” I could feel my very short fuse suddenly become exposed
    “Dangerous?” He half laughed. “You muscle bound clown, where in the hell did she find…”
    Boom. In a flash I remembered Jimmy taking the heat on a broken neighbor’s window and not telling on me. We were maybe eight or nine. Suddenly, everything seemed to go in slow motion. It always does. Paris was leaning back against the work table with his arms folded, looking smug, calling me names and talking tough. I guess he was just used to being able to insult people for no particular reason. I took a quick step and kicked his feet out from underneath him. As he hit the ground he let off a loud, “Uff!” when he landed on the concrete floor. On the way down the back of his head caught the edge of the table with a dull sort of thunk. There wasn’t any blood, at least that I could see. But, he was going to have a hell of bump, maybe even a slight concussion. One could only hope.
    His eyes crossed as I grabbed him. I half threw him, half rolled him over facedown, then took his left arm and twisted it up behind his back. I grabbed him by the back of his collar and yanked him to his feet.
    “Ahhh, ahhh, ahhh, ahhh,” he groaned as I raised him up. I marched him toward the sink and the steaming water, picking up speed with every step. By the time we reached the sink we were moving at a fast paced trot and I slammed him into the edge of the

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