Second Degree Affection

Personal notice, dangerous my stock and trade. If the job's too tough for you to handle, you got a job for me, George Valentine. Right full details. Standard Oil Company of California on behalf of independent chevron gas stations and standard stations throughout the West invites you to let George do it.

Second degree affection, another adventure of George Valentine. Dear Mr. Valentine, First of all, I want to clearly understood that I have no particular affection for my brother. There was a time when we shared a house together here in town, but he moved his activities to industrial cities and his friends went with him and so did his own stupidity and so did

whatever real love I ever had for him. However, Mr. Valentine, I intend to help my brother in whatever way I can and to do that I need you. I need you immediately because his name is Ricky Seven. And if you've read the newspapers, I'm sure you're aware how close my brother is to to being hung for murder.

Sorry, Banda. Haven't seen a girl like that around here. This is where she said she'd be, George. Yeah, no, Brooks. You might ask the bartender or you might sit down and join me for a drink.

Stabbins, you say? Rhoda Stabbins. Hey, bartender. Never mind, Boston. Never mind. You were parked here and I just thought you might know. That's what I say. Sit down. Tell me about yourself. You're a buttonhole artist.

Skip your turn. You're a lady. It's a lonesome dog. Oh, girl. She's heading back to the prison table. Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Keep him busy. Don't worry. I'll be right here. Hello. Miss Tubbins.