Love that look on his face. All he wants to do is be a stereotypical P.I. and go drown his sorrows at a seedy gin joint, but now he’s got every mook in the place buying her drinks and he can barely find a place for his bourbon with all her free booze cluttering up the bar.
And if he hears one more cheap pick-up line, somebody’s getting shot.
Victor Kalin, 1962.








