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Cool Girl and Gold Horse


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Cool Girl and Gold Horse You don’t need a bodyguard. You look like you can take care of yourself. I always have. Oh, it looks like rain and there’s only five shows today. You don’t have to be afraid of me. I’ve got nothing up my sleeve. Honest. Nothing I haven’t seen. How old are you honey? Old enough to know better. You know. I got an idea that I won’t be here when that suit against me comes up. I’ve got a chance to go to London. London? You might as well stay home. Italy! That’s the place. Was you ever in Italy? No. were you? No, but I’m going. Boy, there’s a place, Italy. All they do over there is ride in boats and play guitars. I met a little Italian tomato once. Boy, was she able.. Ever since then I’ve had a yen to go to Italy. You know, a guy can do himself a lot of good over there. I bet you know all about women. I know one thing about them. All of them. What? They’re all female. Is that a complement or a fact? It’s a fact. You’re a funny sort of a beetle. No kidding. Hello Bill. Your dinner got cold so I put it back in the stove to warm up. I had dinner. Kind of hot today, wasn’t it. Why don’t you say what’s on your mind? Why don’t you squawk because I came home late for dinner? You got a right to come home late, Bill. Maybe I should have telephoned. How could you with no phone in the house? I suppose I ought to make up excuses for being late.. Listen Bill. You don’t have to make any excuses to me for anything. You know you don’t. You’re your own boss, Bill. Damn right I am. Sure you are. Did you pay the installment on the stove? Yeah. Here’s the receipt. Now, you see how easy it is? In nine month’s that stove is going to be ours. Oh, I bet you’re tired. Come on honey, lie down. Hey you big butterfingered Palooka! Aw gee Red, something must have got in my eye. Yeah freight cars. You gotta keep your mind on the game and not the trains. Oh listen, Red.. I don’t want any excuses. Something’s come over you in the last couple of weeks. You’ve been no good to us. Don’t I get another chance? No! Give me your glove, You’re through. Hey Slacks.


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