Joseph Slotkin

“ I thought Luigi would bust a jet-gasket, but all of a sudden he calms down, and gets an expression on his puss like a tiger tryin' to smile.
"Look pop," he says, "I know how it is." And he's almost beggin' now. "I know LaTour. She's gotta have a change once't in a while. But I love that dame, see? And I gotta have her back. So if you'll just tell me where she is, I'm willin' to forget all about everythin' else—"
The little guy just looks at him sort of pitying-like. "I assure you I'd like to help you, Luigi, but—"
He stops, with his mouth open, his eyes poppin' out of his head. ”

“ LaTour looks at him like he's a Venusian rainworm, and the lug goes inta another Technicolor trance.
"But I'm gettin' fed up already," she yawns. "I met a fella's got a lot more S.A. than the guy I'm hitched to now. Yeah," she giggles, "My new fella knows how to appreciate a gal. Why, he even judged a beauty contest once."
"You take that jet line to Atlantic City, baby?" Luigi says.
The LaTour laughs, and catches the little guy's eye. "Professor, tell this jerk here what I'm talkin' about."
The little guy nods. "So that's why you didn't come back," he says. ”

“ I had to confess to myself that, standing there, her dark eyes flashing, her long, rather—uh—shapely legs, and—um—well, it was obvious that if anyone were better qualified to interpret love, I had never seen it. ”

“ I couldn't of been more scared if I'd started seeing snakes, which I had, since Luigi looks like the meanest kind of viper in the zoo.
"Okay, pop," he snarls, deadly-like. "Where ya keepin' her?"
The little guy doesn't even turn a hair, whiles I'm startin' to get rid of all the stuff I been drinkin', reflex-like, so's I'll be lighter fer the takeoff when I kin get my feet unfroze.
"How did you get here?" the prof inquires, cool like a cucumber.
"I climbed in through that there space warp you been warblin' about," Luigi sneers, and I can see he is in a definitely unsociable mood. ”

“ Luigi runs around the room like he is goin' space-daffy.
"It's no use, Luigi," the little guy says, lookin' sadder than ever. "She's gone back. And this time I suspect it's forever," the prof says.
Luigi comes over to the little guy and grabs him by the throat.
"She can't do that to me. Gone back where? Y'gotta tell me."
"She's gone back to Paris," the prof says.
Luigi snarls like he is gettin' a Martian sand-fever fit. "What? Leavin' me fer some Frenchman? I'll—"
"No." The professor pulls away from Luigi. ”

“ She sure knew how to handle men. Luigi stops like he's been slugged by a Uranian, and his face gets all purple and pleading.
"Aw come on, babe, gimme a break. Ain't you been hangin' out with this little jerk long enough?"
"Th-that garment—" The little guy is starin' at the robe LaTour is holdin' over the better parts of her. "That white robe—where did you get it?" he sorta wheezed.
"This? Oh, this old thing. It's just part of my old wardrobe. The guy I married gave it to me."
"You—what?" Luigi's puss turns from purple to pale white. "You ain't married?" ”

“ Sometimes I find it hard to believe myself."
"D-do you know who Luigi's gal is?" I finally stutters.
"Was," he corrects, mournful-like. This sort of scared me. Either this guy was the kind of crank they never use to wind up a cold jet, or women had changed a lot since the last time I enriched my culture by attending a performance of Flossie's Follies at the Little Venus Circuit Burly-que.
"Mister, I ain't lookin' fer no trouble," I mutters, edgin' back on my stool.
"Oh, but I assure you, I'm telling the truth."
"Helen LaTour, the terrific blonde," I says, meaningful-like. ”

“ When I lowered my skirt, he stopped."
"He—stopped."
"Yeah. Well, I figures here's a man, and I got my new routine, let's try it out. So I raised my skirt again, watching his face, and went on from there."
"On. From there. I see."
"And Doc," she became intensely excited, and I must confess I found it fairly difficult to preserve my own calm, "when I went through that hip-sway, his face became dim, and then sort of cloudy, and then, in a flash, there I was back in my room again just as if it never had happened." ”

“ Luigi hollers, then that tough voice of his breaks, like he was almost cryin'. "Baby, stop dancin' around."
"Outa my way, ya lug. I'm workin' up to the finale."
"Please, baby. I'll—I'll give ya a million asteroids, honey. I won't smoke no more of them there Saturn Stogies—"
The LaTour's movin' around gets more fancy all the time. She is all the moonbeams and flowers I ever seen, rolled into one. It was easy to unnerstan' how she got to be the big star that she was—even here on rough and ready Venus. ”

“ But then I realize—he's invitin' me to his apartment where, accordin' to his story, the luscious LaTour, queen of the strip world, has not been seen since. So I gives in.
When we reaches his apartment, he snaps on the lights, like he was nervous somebody might be hidin' inside, and locks the door tight. I watch close. He leaves the key in the lock, which makes me feel some easier.
He has quite a nice little joint. Not gaudy, but nice. He goes to one bookshelf, presses a button, and a shelf slides back. Inside, he's got enough wiggle-water to fill all the Martian canals and irrigate the Moon. ”

“ But far be it from me to refuse a barroom curtsy, so I orders another Jupiter sling.
"I'll have two of those drinks on your tray," the little guy pipes up to the waiter. And the mug, who is also one of Charley's best bouncers, almost drops his load.
"Hey, mister, these here's Plutonian stingers," the waiter yells.
"Y'know what's in them things, fella?" I chimes in. "They get ground vesicantus herbs from Pluto, and—"
"Oh, what difference does it make?" The little guy looked mournful. "He'll get me sooner or later, and then—"
"He?" Maybe I had this little guy all wrong. ”