Michael Malone - Weebly

'Oh, fuck it, Daddy, I'm dying!' you'd say it wasn't the
right kind of language to use."
Around Ransom's mouth the skin turned white.
"Don't talk about your dying like that."
"See!"
Ernest Ransom took his drink, told everyone to
help themselves to his liquor, said he hoped he would
be excused, and retired to his den.
"Oh, shit! Now I've hurt his feelings." Kate went
over to the piano, where Blossom was tinkling through
"Miss Otis Regrets." She pummeled him on the back,
the gesture somewhere between a massage and an
assault. "I feel like I ought to stick a dollar in your
glass," she told him. "What is this, cocktail hour at the
Ramada Inn? What are you playing this junk for?"
"I, for one, happen to be enjoying it," said Mrs.
Ransom from her plum wing chair. "Porter's my
favorite." Sid slowed seductively into "It's All Right with
Me."
Finally the double glass doors opened, and there
stood Emerald, ready. Her glossy black curls were
blown into perfect disorder. Her lips and fingernails and