DIRTY DEEDS DONE DIRT CHEAP
HIRSH: How about we just have him rubbed out?
LAGMAN: You could be on to something there, Rod.
HIRSH: Ever done anything like this before?
LAGMAN: Well....you swear on your illegitimately obtained Megalom
entrance exam scores that you will never breathe a word of it?
HIRSH: On the very names of everybody I paid big bucks to help
me--the CIA Cryptolographic Expert, the Professor of Theoretical Physics from MIT, the NASA Rocket Scientist, The Harvard English Professor, Professor of Old Worn-Out History from U. of London, three more guys from the FBI, Interpol's Planning Chief, Cardinal X (for the theological questions), my dentist, and this one kid who goes to my son's junior high school.
Dentist? Never mind, but Junior high school kid?
Hey, he's one smart little fucker, Lagy.
This is getting off point, but how'd you scrape up the loot
to bribe any ONE of these people, much less turn them all? Porn pays that well?
Yes and no. You see, there's a little bit of the voyeur in all
of us Lagy. Admit it, don't you like to watch...'cmon Lagy...just a little? So...all these guys were watching more than just a little. Most of them were watching AND doing-if you know what I mean, and I think you do. So, when they were watching me, I was watching them, and best of all I was video-taping them watching me. So I went to them and offered up a choice, knock out a couple of these test questions and make a couple hundred bucks-or have the video-tape of me watching them and them watching me delivered to their wives, bosses, ethical investigations committees, students, faculty....
Wow, that's really LOW!!
That's the nookie game, Lagy.
The junior high school kid?
Oh, he was easy. I paid him one video tape up-front, and two
when he turned in his completed assignment.
I think I'm going to be sick.
Buck up old man, the porn biz is not for the faint of heart.
But what about you? Did you kill 'em yourself? Buy a contract? Cut the hydraulic line on their car brakes? Poison? Banana peel? Give, Lagy, give!!! Quid pro quo, Lagy, quid pro quo.
Okay. See I was in the seventh grade. My gym teacher called
my parents to complain about how I was arrogant, and needed to stop trying to make the other kids feel inferior.
You were showing off your intellect?
No, but I'd reached puberty prematurely and my dick was two
inches longer than anybody else's. I kept dropping my pants and saying, "Oh, yeah, well so what...bet you don't have anything like this!!"
Cute. But, go on.
Well, you know how hyper-sensitive I am? I burned inside for
a month after that. Finally I couldn't stand it anymore. I paid Jimmy Nickels two weeks lunch money to "wad him".
Jimmy was the spitball shootin' champ of champs at school. Jimmy
and his slingshot could knock the eye-tooth out of a zoo monkey at 20 yards with two sets of bars in between him and the primate. Kid was a goddam David reincarnated. So, I paid Jimmy two weeks' lunch money for him to manufacture the biggest spit-wad ever produced, the Mother of all Juju Balls, I'm talking Ripley, I mean Guinness...
Where was I? Yes, when it got to be about the size of a basketball, Jimmy unveiled it out behind the bushes near the edge of the running track. We'd nicked some really long tubing from the medical supply store, got a couple tent stakes, sewed together some diapers and voila-the Mother of all slingshots for the Mother of all Spitballs!! I helped Jimmy draw back and SMOOSCHO-we nailed the bastard flush in the kisser from a distance of 75 meters, while he was leading the 2nd period class in "jumping jacks". Knocked him colder than a pickle.
So, you killed him? He died from that?
No, but he had to go to the Nurse's office to regain consciousness.
HOLY CHRIST, LAGY. YOU MEAN AFTER ALL I JUST TOLD YOU, AND AFTER
ALL THAT BUILD UP WITH JIMMY AND ALL.... ALL YOU'VE EVER DONE IS SMACKED SOME FLIPPIN' TEACHER WITH A SPIT WAD??!!!
But, it was MASSIVE, ROD!!!
Oh shut up, Lagy, just SHUT THE %^$# UP!!!!
TO BE CONTINUED...........