Michael Malone - Weebly

idding. "Love it!" he shouted. "Look at this! You're my
luck, darlin'. I've got the world on a string, sitting on a
rainbow! Central Park South," he told his driver, who
was Armenian and a fan of the New York Yankees.
Out of the radio sputtered the cheers and jeers of fans
as the cab wove its wheeling way through the city lights.
"What's the score?" asked the affable poet.
"Nuddin', nuddin', top uh de tenffh. Tell me why I
bodder wid de bums?"
"Love," Rich told him. Love was in the air wherever
he and Beatrice breathed, love and luck were wed in
magic. And so there was one horse and carriage waiting
for them. And a grandly mustached chauffeur named
Curley McGuire who ate pieces of pizza from a
cardboard box as they shambled along the curves of
Central Park.
"Now. Ain't this a night in a million?" Curley's
question ambled back to the couple curled together
beneath a nappy blanket. Who better than they could
answer, "Yes"?
Beanie asked where the seals were.
"Lady," said Curley, as he chewed pepperoni and