Our
Our Endless Fascination With Film Noire
Guy walks into a bar. Bartender says, "That girl over there wants to buy you a drink." Guy looks at girl. Girl's a knockout. Great gams, killer smile. But there's a shadow behind the wattage.
"Sure," he says. "Why not? I got nothing better to do in the middle of a Tuesday afternoon. Besides, this is FILM NOIR."Endless Fascination With Film Noire "Why the long face, doll?" the guy asks.
Girl says tell him she's on the lam. Guy tells her to jaw. Girl tells him that her old man was a Peterman who did a box job for some trouble boys, and everything had been silk until a couple of Brunos showed up and said some jobbie had fingered her old man for doing a Chinese squeeze on the lettuce from the heist, and even though her old man swore it was all jake, the Brunos zotzed him.
"Then they came after me," she says. "I grabbed my old man's heater and started squirting metal. Suddenly the place is lousy with buttons. And there I am with three stiffs and a fogger. So now the tins are tightening the screws and telling me I gotta sing or I'm under glass for a three spot. And I don't look good in stripes."
She slides a cigarette between her lips. He lights it. She blows smoke into his face.
"Will you help me?" she asks.
"That depends," he says. "You on the level?"
"You tell me," she says.
She kisses him. He stares at her. She taps out her cigarette. He sighs and sips his whiskey.
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