DEFEAT OF WALL STREET PETE
I agreed to meet Pete at the bank. He had a deal in the fire. Something to do with copper wire. "This guy Meyer has a deal so right it can't miss," Pete said "I put Two up for this."
"Two what?" I asked.
"Two Million," he said with a laugh. "If it goes through, I'll give you half of what i get. Pete never welches on a bet."
I waited two hours or more, then saw Pete go in a store, come out carrying a paper bag. When he got near I saw him sag. He stuck a smile on his face. How'd it go? I wanted to know. Pete turned to me and said angrily: "Meyer, that fuckin' liar. He didn't have no Goddam wire. Just a lousy paper deal. A steal, that no good heel! For two I got empty warehouse space in a place in old Soho. Ho! Ho!! Ho!"
"You can sue?" I said. He shook his head. "Naw, I signed on the dotted line. Didn't read the fine print like I usually do. A deal's a deal. You get half."
Pete gave a winners-losers laugh, reached in the bag. Took out a bagel, broke it in two, took a bite from his half, spit it out. He choked. Blood rushed to his head. "I asked for poppy-seed," Pete said. Then he dropped dead.