Jimmy the Gent rolled his cuffs up past fat wrists resting on a counter-top, Give me the 24, the waiter jumped to it…..

Fuckin’ heart attack on a plate Jimmy, his friend St. Pat said with a swig of soda, Heart attack….heart attack….heart attack….

Ya sound like a hoosier, Jimmy told ’em, Like some Midwest Dudley Do-Right, and, before their eyes sat the #24: pastami, corned beef, roast beef and Russian dressing piled thick on rye….aye….aye….aye…

Jesus Jimmy….Jesus Fuckin’ H Christ….

You know, Jimmy crammed half a sandwich in his thick-lipped covered mouth, Again with the Midwest bullshit….Let me tell ya somethin’, he dipped the ‘wich in the slight pink sauce,

I’ll never go west of Philly my friend…..the farther west you go….the dumber America becomes….in fact…..I don’t plan on ever goin’ past 5th Avenue…

Pass the salt….

Heart attack Jimmy….Fuckin’ heart attack.