(xx) A Phone Call from Yellow Jump

Well sir, it's early evening as we enter the small house halfway up in the next block now. And here in the living room we find Mr. Victor Gook and her uncle Mr. Fletcher Rush. The latter has the appearance of being unnaturally grave and solemn at a speeding and sober impressive tones.

Listen. While we're waiting for Victor to get here, Sadie Honey, I'll describe this terrible fate that overtook Franklin W. MacDillkey. His uncle Jerry, his straw boss and his barber. All of the scene was cut.

Oh, I don't want to hear about people's terrible fates. One of the saddest cases on record. Eh. Bitter tears were shed. Pale hands clasped. Faded flowers. Grown man whippered and whined. And the scarling tears of the women and the children flow like melting snow down cold and cheeks.

Old people howl was sorrow. And Mullen Collin music was played on the pipe organ as black gold and gold. You think now Uncle Pichard? I just heard the kitchen screen door slam. Hello, you bitch.

It is very likely. Hey, Coyote. Vic. Yes, very sad. I said Vic. That's not sad. Mallon Colley. Mallon Colley. Oh, millon Colley, my shoe. Quit making a whole lot of trash out of nothing on Coflecher.

Yes. What's the trouble, dear palace? Evening, but honey. Good evening, Uncle Fetchier. You got a brush on your cheek like a 16-year-old. City, your pretty is a picture. That's cute. All right. Could you get me $40 million to choose the uncoception?

Make it 80 million dollars. Our business deals make it $160 million. No way we're at it. Let's set the figure at 320 million dollars. We've had a little laugh. You made your comical remark. We go forward and snort it.