Thursday, November 23, 2006

Early to Bed

Mort and Albert left Flanigan's bar sometime either very early or very late depending on your point of view. Mort was staggering in a drunken stupor while Albert, although clearly intoxicated, managed a lucid stride.

"Hey Albert, les go get some hook-hookers!"

"Mort, you need sleep. You know what we've got to do tonight."

"Oh, right. The Italian job."

"No, that was the movie on cable last week."

"Oh, yeah, yeah. Thas right. We've gotta get to the business district before dark. No expections!"



"Indeed. Let's get back to the hotel. I feel morose."

"Yeah, me too." Mort agreed unwittingly. "Man, look at da sweet ass on her!"

"The end of a thing is therefore greater than the beginning thereof."


"Nevermind. Let's get to the hotel."

The hotel was in a slightly more respectable part of town, truly an example of crime paying well.

"Good morning gentlemen. How was your night?" the bellman asked.

"We couldn't ask for anything more, my dear sir." Albert said to the bellman. "Could you see that we receive a wake up call by 3pm?" he said as he continued on past the concierge.

"Certainly, sir. Will there be anything else?"

"No, thank you. That will be all."

"Theesh elevators always take forever." Mort complained sullenly.


"What floor?" asked a woman entering at the same time.

"All the way!" Mort exclaimed.

"Nineteen will do, thank you. He's had just a bit too much tonight, but he's harmless."

"Big night out on the town?"

"Something like that."

"Nothing wrong with a little celebration. I like to party every now and then. Helps me to relax."

"The soul of the sinner seeks respite in the wildest of ways. When calm and quiet no longer offer repose, may man make his peace among the rabble and desolation of the lost and tortured."

"Wow, how poetic. Did someone say that?"

"Yes. I did." Albert demurred. "This is our floor. Good night, my dear."

"We're back, now get some sleep," Albert commanded uselessly. Mort was already asleep.

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