- end_line
- 2619
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-27T17:16:00.018Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 2602
- text
- 2491 and holding onto my stomach and all.
2492 But I'm crazy. I swear to God I am. About halfway to the bathroom, I sort of
2493 started pretending I had a bullet in my guts. Old 'Maurice had plugged me. Now I was on
2494 the way to the bathroom to get a good shot of bourbon or something to steady my nerves
2495 and help me really go into action. I pictured myself coming out of the goddam bathroom,
2496 dressed and all, with my automatic in my pocket, and staggering around a little bit. Then
2497 I'd walk downstairs, instead of using the elevator. I'd hold onto the banister and all, with
2498 this blood trickling out of the side of my mouth a little at a time. What I'd do, I'd walk
2499 down a few floors--holding onto my guts, blood leaking all over the place-- and then I'd
2500 ring the elevator bell. As soon as old Maurice opened the doors, he'd see me with the
2501 automatic in my hand and he'd start screaming at me, in this very high-pitched, yellow-
2502 belly voice, to leave him alone. But I'd plug him anyway. Six shots right through his fat
2503 hairy belly. Then I'd throw my automatic down the elevator shaft--after I'd wiped off all
2504 the finger prints and all. Then I'd crawl back to my room and call up Jane and have her
2505 come over and bandage up my guts. I pictured her holding a cigarette for me to smoke
2506 while I was bleeding and all.
2507 The goddam movies. They can ruin you. I'm not kidding.
- title
- Chunk 4