THE INFORMATION #922
“St. Lou has always been my favorite. Or it least it was, once upon a time, until it became something of a burned-over district. The trouble with St. Lou is that the people there were a little too friendly and too trusting. They were so easy to scalp that some of the grifters got greedy and began to take extraordinary advantage. Reminds me of the Dodo. He was so tasty and so fearless and tame and so easy to kill that very soon, he went extinct. Working St. Lou in its heyday was like having a license to print money. For a very negligible sum, you could hire a roper to hang out in the lobby of the Planter House Hotel. His sole purpose would be to hook in a prosperous-looking mark for a friendly game of cards played for very low stakes. You’d let the mark win, of course. Then you’d take him for a friendly drink at one of the many beer gardens that dot the Queen City of the West.
You’d even let him show you around the city. The Zoo. The Soulard Market. Washington University. The Arboretum. And suchlike. Then you’d get down to brass tacks. You’ve got this money-making proposition that will double his ooftish immediately, or in ten days, or thirty, or in six months. Doesn’t matter what the gimmick is–the gold brick. The money box. The salted mine. The Papal letter. The Wire. Once he takes your bait, you can practically see the wheels spinning in his head as he calculates how much profit he can make on the crooked deal with whatever assets he can borrow, beg or steal. Of course, every now and again you hook one who won’t play ball. Better to drop that sort of lug cold. Dose him with a few snorts of chloral and leave him naked in a filthy alleyway sans money belt. That’ll learn ‘im not to go off half-cocked!
26 Holiday Pinterest Fails That Ruined Christmas
Been getting a lot of response from despondent Drinky Crow readers. Take heart. Drinky Crow, Uncle Gabby etc are not dead, just the weekly Maakies. I plan on many more comics with DC and UG and many more different comics. I will give you comics until I am bones in a grave or ashes in a box. –Tony