“Took Tracy to Butch’s Mammoth. They were closed.”
“Sunday?”
“No, Motherfucker, everybody knows Butch closes on Sunday. Two hours ago. Let me finish the story.”
Cleeve lit a half a smoke he had in his breast pocket, blew the smoke in Parky’s general direction.
“Most good stories don’t start with somethin’ bein’ closed.”
Parky ducked the smoke, leaned into hi…
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