ow many sticks you want me to get?" he asks, holding on to that money
like he never saw any before.

I tell him: "Sticks? Nay. I'm for real stuff tonight. You find Four-Eye
and get us some horse." Yeah, he digs me then. He looks like he's pretty
scared and I know he is, because this punk hasn't had anything bigger
than reefers in his life. But I'm for busting a couple of caps of H,
and what I do he's going to do. He takes off to find Four-Eye and the
rest of us get busy on this cat with the funny artillery until he gets
back.

* * * * *

It's like I'm a million miles down Dream Street. Hell, I don't want to
wake up.

But the H is wearing off and I'm feeling mean. Damn, I'll stomp my
mother if she talks big to me right then.

I'm the first one on my feet and I'm looking for trouble. The whole
place is full now. Angel must have passed the word to everybody in the
Dukes, but I don't even remember them coming in. There's eight or ten
cats lying around on the floor now, not even moving. This won't do, I
decide.

If I'm on my feet, they're all going to be on their feet. I start to
give them the foot and they begin to move. Even the weirdie must've had
some H. I'm guessing that somebody slipped him some to see what would
happen, because he's off on Cloud Number Nine. Yeah, they're feeling
real mean when they wake up, but I handle them cool. Even that little
flunky Sailor starts to go up against me but I look at him cool and he
chickens. Angel and Pete are real sick, with the shakes and the heaves,
but I ain't waiting for them to feel good. "Give me that loot," I tell
Tiny, and he hands over the stuff we took off the weirdie. I start to
pass out the stuff.

"What's to do with this stuff?" Tiny asks me, looking at what I'm giving
him.

I tell him, "Point it and shoot it." He isn't listening when the
weirdie's telling me what the stuff is. He wants to know what it does,
but I don't know that. I just tell him, "Point it and shoot it, man."
I've sent one of the cats out for drinks and smokes and he's back by
then, and we're all beginning to feel a little better, only still pretty
mean. They begin to dig me.

"Yeah, it sounds like a rumble," one of them says, after a while.

I give him the nod, cool. "You're calling it," I tell him. "There's much
fighting tonight. The Boomer Dukes is taking on the world!"

IV

Sandy Van Pelt

The front office thought the radio car would give u