“B24,” enunciated the sparkle-toothed orator dressed in a pea-green jacket, his hand-wavy gestures ensorcelling a small crowd of idle-minded participants.
“Bingo!” trumpeted a voice from the hall.
And from this inauspicious start in a church basement, a life of cards and off-track betting began.
I’ll cut to the chase: the vice squad raided a bordello—the nadir of this sordid tale—and arrested a green-jacketed man, caught in flagrante delicto with a contortive catwoman and a tidy wad of cash.
“B24,” enunciated the prison warden: our gambler was in Block B–Cell 24, counting cigarettes and placing bets for idle-minded participants.