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The lizards loved liver and onions。 They ordered it and ooh…lala'd and went over their plans plenty loud。 They conclusively confirmed Demon Dot： the heist would hatch at 6：oo P。M。 12/27。
We suspended our surveillance on Christmas Eve。 Christlike Chris threw a party to praise the Prince of Peace。
Bogie got bombed on his peach…pit potion and peppermint schnapps。 He chugalugged it and chanted Chinese chants to beat the Big C。 Huxley hooked down hallucinogens。 He held forth and heaped judgment on Jesus。 He praised that prize prick Pontius Pilate and his 〃Paranoid Paradigm。〃 It pissed off Oscar Levant。 Oscar opted to ossify some 〃Existential Eggnog。〃 He tossed in herbs； hash hunks； and Hungarian wine。 The shit sheared Crazy Chris。 He spouted aphorisms and spun around aphrodisiacal。 The marines lurched from his libidinous assaults and went AWOL。
Sammy stayed stone sober and steamed over satanic Sinatra。 He reissued his old indignities in insistently intimate detail and insisted that I listen。 He flogged and flayed his own flesh bare。 He catalogued catastrophic cruelties and cringed at his own pliance。 He christened his crucifier the 〃Christmas Anti…Christ〃 and called him on Chris's phone。
Sammy crawled to the creep。 He cradled the phone and crossed himself。 He would have waved wolfsbane if he'd had it。
He said； 〃Frank says he'll meet you。 You pick the time and place。〃
I said； 〃The motel by the Club Diablo。 Midnight on the twentyseventh。〃
Sammy mumbled into the mouthpiece。 I mused on my moment to meet Satan on his own torrid turf。
5
We went in well armed。 We masqueraded as marines and made it a military maneuver。
The marines marked for molestation left some shit at the shrine。 We draped ourselves in their dress blues and packed their PX…pilfered pistols。 I hid my Hudson Hornet and hot…wired a Vauxhall van。 Monster masks made us menacing and marked us as men not to mess with。
I went in as the Wolfman。 Sammy crept in as the Creature from the Black Lagoon。 We moved our minkmobile into the back lot and barged in the back door。
5：46 P。M。
Fourteen minutes to filch furs and fill up the van。 Fourteen minutes to fuck the fur…filchers already assigned to the job。
We monster…minced down a mink…lined hallway。 We froze by the freezer vault。 Al Teitelbaum latched eyes on us and laughed long and loud。
He howled and heaved for breath。 He broke a sweat and swatted his legs。 He swayed and pointed to a pile of pelts on the freezer floor。
He hocked into a hanky。 He said； 〃Go； you fershtunkener furmeisters。 Go； before I die of a fucking coronary。〃
Sammy popped the pelts into a large laundry bag。 I shot my eyes into the showroom。 I scanned scads of sensational sables and choice chinchillas and magnificent minks。 Our paltry pile of pelts paled in considered contrast。
Teitelbaum said； 〃Hit me once； tie me up； and get out of here。 Your theatrics are wearing me thin。〃
I pulled my piece and pistol…whipped him to pulp。 I decimated his dentures。 Blood dripped on my dress blues。
Teitelbaum tipped into dreamland。 I dropped him in the freezer and gagged him with a gorgeous gaggle of furs。 Sammy gloated and glared at the ofay oppressor。 He muttered mau…mau musings and metamorphosed into the Creature from the Coon Lagoon。
5：51 P。M。
Sammy lugged the laundry bag back to the Vauxhall van。 I shifted into overdrive and shot through the shop。
I manhandled minks and moved them out fast。 I stole stellar stacks of stoles。 I glommed glorious globs of glistening fur and furnished the van tip to tailpipes。 I made myself a millionaire in one machination and emancipated Sambofied Sammy。
5：57 P。M。
I lashed up a last stack of stoles。 The real robbers ripped through the 〃front〃 door〃rápidamente〃。
I froze。 Sammy froze by the freezer。 The real robbers shared a 〃Shit〃 look。 They shook their eyes around the showroomshabbily shorn and sacked。
They whipped out Walter PPK's and popped me point…blank。 My stack of stoles absorbed their ammo。 The Creature from the Coon Lagoon crouched and pulled his piece。 Six rounds ripped the real robbers and ratched them into a raccoon…coat rack。
We wrapped the bodies in raccoon and rolled them under a rug。 Sammy dug the scene and dubbed it a 〃Massacre in Mink。〃
We moved our minkmobile to Mexicomucho fast。 Sammy negrofied Sinatra songs and arced them out a cappella。
He verse…vilified Sinatra and lynched him with licentious lyrics。 He sang scatological scat and scoffed at Frank the freewheeling freak。 He excoriated and exorcised his ex…slavemaster extemporaneously。
〃Fly me to the moon； with my guinea goons； I ejaculate a little quick； some say I e too soon！ In other words； hold my gland！〃
〃It's a quarter to three； all I feel is hate and bad self…pity。 So set 'em up； Joe； 'cause Ava left me for a well…hung Negro。〃
〃e fly with me； e fly； e fly away！ We'll abuse some squares in our Vegas lairs and pretend that we're not gay！〃
Sammy ripped； rocked； roiled； rolled； and resurrected his nappy…headed niggerhood。 We sidled south as psychopathic sidekicks。
We rolled into a rest stop and stripped to our Street clothes。 We cruised south； crossed the border； and tipped into Tijuana。
Dig：
Sweaty swarms of tattered toddlers tackling tourists and latching onto them leechlike。 Syphilitic sailors cliqued up outside clap clinics。 Punks peddling pot and peyote plants in plain sight。 Vandals vending vibrating dildos and donkey show tix。 Starving peons stretched out on the Street from stark starvation。 Punks picking their pockets and plucking their teeth out with penknives。 Hermaphroditic he…shes huddled in haphazard hordes。 A chain of chancre…sored chiquitas chipping by a chop suey joint。 Spiffy spic cops in natty Nazi jackboots and jet…black outfits on every corner。
Oooooh； Daddy…o！ I was digging it all； desensitized！
We dipped by the Club Diablo。 Dig the nifty neon sign： a little Lucifer with high horns and a trident…trimmed dick。
11：37 P。M。
We checked into the cheesy Chinchinagua Motel and chatted up the manager。 He was one choice cholo。 I fed him some chump change and scammed some scalding skinny。
A 〃Mr。 Duhamel〃 called and confirmed his room reservation。 He and his 〃friend Frank〃 would be by and bop to their back bungalow by midnight。
I laid a mink coat on the Mex motherfucker。 He muttered 〃Madre mIa〃 and groveled ground…low。 Sammy grabbed him and laid down the law： pass us your passkey to the back bungalow and let the chumps check in。 Don't mention the boss banditos who just bought you off。
The Mex murmured； 〃Si； sí〃 and passed us a passkey。 We bipped to the back bungalow and bopped in unbidden。 I wiggled a wall switch。 Light leaped on and launched cockroach convoys out of control。
They bug…scuttled； buzzed； and bounced off the bed。 They flipflopped and flew off the floor。 They crawled and crunched like ripe Rice Krispies under our feet。
11：48 P。M。
We reloaded our revolvers。 Sammy syphoned a syringe full of Lysol…like lysergic acid。 I juked out to the van and juked back with jumper cables。
We clipped the lights off and climbed into a closet。 Cockroaches flipped of