The Only Way to Make Friends Is to Die

Ladies and gentlemen, the American Broadcasting Company brings to its entire network one of radio's most unusual programs Pat Novak for hire Sure, I'm Pat Novak for hire That's what the sign out in front of my office says Pat Novak for hire You're trying to make a living down on the waterfront in San Francisco. You got to run things like a smorgasbord

You take a little of everything you can get your hands on. Even then it's a bumpy ride because down here everybody tries to pat his part. Oh, I rent boats and do anything else good men pay bad men to do.

You don't get many gold stars that way, but you pay the bar bill and it's about as safe as a closet full of tigers. The only way you can make friends down on the waterfront is to die.

I found that out Tuesday night. I went to the wrestling matches and watched gorgeous George throw some guy around like a poker chip in Tijuana. I was in the middle of the crowd on my way out of the place when this guy stepped up behind me and started talking.

You got company, Novak. I said you got company on both sides. No. Did your friend get his face at a fire sale too? You can't all be pretty. Keep walking, Novak. Gun in my back supposed to help?

That's up to you. That's where they're heading out the side door. You got the right growl, but the wrong guy, mister. You keep working your mouth, but nothing comes out. Alright, this way. What are your plans?

Shall we take the kids? The car, right down here. Now look, big shot. In a drug store, I get all the mystery I want for two bits. You want things explained? Yeah, besides shovel head here, I don't understand a thing.