By William P Adams
Cappy Feathers ducked into the Fisheye Lounge, the clip joint operated by Ducky Shincracker. His reputation for not suffering fools gladly was legendary. Classy Lassiter, Ducky’s main squeeze and enforcer, was seated at the bar, sipping a Manhattan.
“Is he in the back?”
“Yeah. And he ain’t happy.”
“You think it’s on account of us being short this month?”
“No, it’s because you’re the one who’s short.”
“Dammit, Classy, I’m in a helluva bind.”
“Go in and take your medicine. You know he’s all bark.”
Cappy lumbered toward Ducky’s office.
Classy drew the sharpened ice pick from her bag and followed.
A great noir drabble!
Thanks Alan!
Great story! Like noir feeling.
Thanks Bud!