Butter

JACK: It's cold. Damn cold. But I've got to make the squeeze. Iggy's been wracking my nerves lately, seems to be making a habit of it. He'll snap out of it. Even if I have to sock 'em once or twice. Damn it's cold.... And how did I get looped into pullin' this wagon around town in such frightening conditions? Well, someone's gotta do it. Not to mention that the pretty penny that comes along with the duties. The fool would say that it makes the task worth doing. It may be worth the pain in the side, but it's certainly not worth the consequences of getting pinched. A while back a friend of mine got sniffed out. Whether it was quality work by those detective cats or just top of the line tattle tailing, they sure took care of him.  He's not exactly a fish but send him a prayer if you've got the time, he needs it.

[Jack suddenly becomes alert, looks around sharply, re focuses]

Iggy included, people have been tellin' me I shouldn't be gettin' so wound up. Throwing around words like paranoid. But as far as I'm concerned they don't know for nothing. Next time you're carting around enough hooch to get you locked up for the rest of your good years, if I see you relaxing, I'll shine your fuckin' shoes.

[Iggy enters, with cart, just three barrels remain on it.]

IGGY: Done! Gone! Joe cleaned house, fourteen barrels!

JACK:  Fourteen barrels?

IGGY: Fourteen barrels. I was shocked too.

JACK: Iggy, that's a lot of booze to sell to one establishment.

IGGY: I done good!

JACK: No, you done bad, ya oil can!

IGGY: Whaddya talk?

JACK: All I'm sayin' is that is a lot of booze to sell to one establishment.

IGGY: What happened to "You can never sell too much booze?"

JACK: What happened is we have a quota to meet, Genius. We can't be slipping full shipments to flat wheelers like Joe!

IGGY:  Joe's no flat wheeler!

JACK: Well he's not on the level.

IGGY: Sure he is.

JACK: Iggy, you just shorted half of our locations.

IGGY: So What!?

JACK: So What? You're asking me "So What?" These are our customers you're hanging out to dry, Iggy!

IGGY: We've still got three barrels! Listen, Jackie, trust me, you know I usually don't budge easy.

JACK: Usually?

IGGY: Jackie- Joe paid a steep cost in consideration of the size of the order.

JACK: ... How steep?

IGGY: Barely slanted.

JACK: Just level with me Iggy!

IGGY: What's eating you, Jackie?

JACK: Level with me.

IGGY: I couldn't pass up that kind of cash. You wouldn't have either.

JACK: Cash? Upfront? How much?

IGGY: Let me show you! I'm tellin ya Jack, big money is big money and you can't deny that.

[Iggy presents cash. Jack begins counting, hiding awe, Constable Seymore Enters]

SEYMORE: Evening, boys.  Something interesting in that briefcase of yours?

IGGY: Well...

SEYMORE: Better yet, what's in the barrels I've been watching you guys cart around all night?

IGGY: Well... Y'see-

JACK: Butter.

SEYMORE: So you've been dropping off Butter all night?

JACK: Correct.

SEYMORE: I see. Mind telling me exactly why one location needed fifteen barrels?

JACK: A pal needed some Butter.

SEYMORE: Fifteen barrels?

JACK: Fourteen, sir.

SEYMORE: Fourteen barrels of butter?

JACK: Freshly churned.

SEYMORE: Mind if I take a look?

JACK: Be my guest.

IGGY: Yeah. Be our guest!

[Jack shoots a glance at Iggy]

SEYMORE: Don't mind if I do, Jack... Y'know, if I had a clam for-

[Jack shoots Seymore in the back]

IGGY: Nifty shot, Bimbo. Think I could bum a ciggy?

[Jack shoots Iggy. Throws them onto the cart. Opens up bottle of shine only to tip it on it's side. Reaches into his breast pocket and pulls out a match. Lights his cigaratte and tosses the match on the bottle. Blackout.]