I never gave fellas The Broderick nearly as often as I should've, and while this was satisfying and all, it just wasn't enough. The pain was there, sure, and I could tell by the way Clarence flinched that the recovery time would be a long road.

He made a sound like a wounded animal and fell silent again. Long as he was alive and left with the gift I'd given him, I was okay with that, for the time being. Taking a finger almost seemed to be bad sport at this rate, and nobody ever said I didn't play fair when it was called for.

...the percussion section must be playing a Benny Goodman big-band number in Clarence's head, though, judging by the expression on his face.

He wouldn't forget this anytime soon.

I stood and rolled down my sleeves, tightened the tie, and pulled my blazer back on. Hat settled on my head, I lit up a gasper and inhaled deeply, blowing smoke into the air.

"...See you around, Clarence."

I picked the keys up off the floor, swinging them and unlocking the front door. Chucking the bits of metal back at the counter, I tipped my lid and stepped outside.

Othello came along for the ride.