Tommy “The Torch” handed me four fingers of single malt Scotch. I savored a long pull. He aimed a Colt 45 over my shoulder and triggered a shock wave that destroyed my hearing and flapped my cheeks. I set my glass down and waited for his lips to stop.
“That was loud as shit. I didn’t hear a word you said.”
“I said, Don’t misrepresent me.”
“You’ll have editorial rights, Mr. Torch. So, if you’re done fucking around, can we do this interview?”
“I like you kid. You got balls. Let’s do it next to the pool. It’s nice out.”
“Scotch scotch scotch…scotch in my belly…I love scotch.”
Brilliant pic – love the “How Happy is your Happy Hour?” photstream.