The Big Fix

ARNO

Sitting beside take, who was driving the flashy car, Arno was pale with anger. “... and of all the dumb moves! Suppose the big guy had clouted you, maybe cut your eye? Or...”

“He didn't. Just a clumsy fat cat,” Jake cut in. He was feeling very good, the old dreams of himself as a champ flashing through his mind.

“And if he had? Told you we had to speed up our plans and you have to play things stupid! What if he'd been hurt, banged his noggin on the floor, and the cops had been called in? Don't know what's got into you recently, Jake, you're acting...”

“I'm on edge, stale from training too much.”

Arno said, “No, you don't—don't ever try to kid the ladder. We forget this, but step out of line once more and I'll really give you something to keep your mind on! I found a Spanish restaurant that looks good—real thing. You want to see a movie before or after supper?”

“I'd like some plain ham and eggs, for a change.”

Arno sighed, with disgust.