EX POST SEASON
I don't have a moment, nor do I have a
phone. Extolling a merchant's goods must
be done in person. Come over here, little
lady, let me do my job. Just this must this
just thus this is. Understand me? My
father was the sparring partner for
Gentino Fabricone.
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The big Hungarian lady in the arena seat
was loudly yelling, 'Put him in a coma,
make his ears start bleeding.' Jesus lady,
it's only a spar, a practice run for another
death, now shut it the fuck up. I was
a young kid, yeah, but even I had
my limits. Long ago, anyway.
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