Dot sat there grinning. He looked
straight ahead as we struggled
into our coats. Then, without turning his head, he casually said, "Blue, I can't miss seeing you again
soon. I'll duck into the homicide bureau and enjoy your morgue shots, maybe as soon as tomorrow. I'll count ice-pick holes in your black
lard ass. You and your trick
baby partner could be walking corpses."
I cut in. I was hot as hell. I said, "Goddamnit, Mr. Murray, I was no trick
baby. My mother was no whore. She married a white man. Do I have to pin her marriage license to my chest? And Blue and I haven't done
anything to wind up dead."
He said, "I'll believe a license when
I see it. I'm bullshit proof...."
-- Iceberg Slim, "Trick