Hi guys. As I prepare to FINALLY release "Love in the City" in just a few days, I figured this would be a good time to bless you with some hot samples from "Death in the City." (Both books are connected but you'll have to read them both to see how.) This is one of my favorite scenes because of how sinister it becomes.
3 - A Room Full of Rogues
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he back room of the Starlight Nightclub/Cabaret reeked of a mixture of
the sweet fragrances that strippers scented their sultry bodies with, cigar
smoke and sin. Two scantily-clad, curvy and voluptuous bottle service girls
served liquor to the gamblers who were intensely engaged in six different
illegal games of poker at six different tables. Five of the card games were
being played by men who were just trying to win extra money to make ends meet.
Most of those desperate souls were wagering what they really couldn’t afford to
lose but, even if misfortune struck and they ended up losing everything except
for the shirts on their backs, they still didn’t have very far to fall at all.
None of them were strangers to struggle because they’d been toeing the line
between poor and completely destitute their entire lives. Although almost all
of them would most likely walk away losers at the end of the evening, the odds
of them winning a few dollars in the smoke-filled room where the house was
usually the cruel winner that took all was still much better than their chances
of hitting the jackpots in any of the government-sanctioned lottery games. That
was the plight of all the men who sat at all of the gambling tables in that
back room except one, and at that one table, the stakes were very different.
Sammie scratched his bug, bushy beard and rubbed the intricate, black and grey
skull that was tattooed on the side of his bald head.
There was an unnatural bubble of silence
that surrounded the sixth table that separated it from the muted murmur and
hushed clamor all around it. At that table, which was positioned almost exactly
in the center of the room, sat four of the most dangerous people in the entire
city. No matter what gripes, grievances or conflicts might have been quietly
taking place outside of their card game, everyone else in the room
understood that those dangerous individuals were not to be disturbed and if
anyone was foolish enough to break that unspoken rule, then that fool would
face consequences of the most unpleasant kind.
The card game at that sixth, sacred table
had been going on for hours and most of the poker chips ended up piled high in
front of Enoch, the club’s owner. He was a heck of a poker player, as the
amount of winnings he had amassed that evening confirmed and as he prepared to
take a long pull from his cigar, he smiled. The other players at the very
exclusive table, Alicia Rose, Sammie Gustavo (aka: Sammie Slim) and Mr. Crowe,
all sensed something sinister behind his grin. They found his perfect rows of
pearly-white teeth unsettling.
With frowns that openly expressed their
frustration, both Sammie Slim and Mr. Crowe folded at the same time. They
slammed their cards down on the green felt-covered table. One of the bottle
service girls, the incredibly busty, brown-skinned blonde, attempted to pour
more champagne into Mr. Crowe’s glass but he rudely snatched the entire bottle
from her. He stuffed two $100 bills into the waist of her white, lace corset
when he realized how badly he had startled her. As a man of few words, he
silently apologized to her when he tipped his black fedora down over his dark
eyes. The poor frightened thing scampered off to service another table as Mr.
Crowe brought the champagne bottle to his lips. He gulped down the sparkling,
bubbly liquor as if it was water while the obese heroin dealer oddly nicknamed
“Slim” seated next to him cursed his own bad luck under his breath, in Spanish
and in English.
Enoch used a fancy handkerchief to wipe a
few drops of sweat from the top of his smooth, bald head. The air-conditioning
kept the temperature of the room comfortable but the hot, overhead lamp that
was suspended directly above the table threatened to tan his light-brown scalp
to a darker shade.
Directly across from Enoch, the only woman
at the table studied the five cards she held with her slender, graceful,
manicured fingers. Just like everyone else at the table besides Enoch, Alicia
had been losing money all evening but, the cards she now stared at made her
smile. In fact, she was so confident about them that she winked at Enoch to let
him know that she was convinced he stood no chance of beating her this time.
“Finally! About time something good
happened,” Alicia chuckled as she pushed all of her remaining chips to the
center of the card table and went all in.
“Really? How so?” Enoch asked, equally
confident and doubtful that whatever cards she held could possibly beat his.
“I don’t think you can beat this hand, not
this time,” Alicia told him smugly.
“I disagree. What I’m holding is going to
be pretty damn hard to beat,” Enoch answered as he calmly flipped his cards
over, one at a time, exposing three Kings and two 10’s. “THAT, pretty lady, is
what is called a full house.”
“Well, that really is a nice hand,” Alicia
chirped in a meek voice, pretending to be nervous and frightened by his cards.
“But, this one is nicer,” she continued with confidence as she flipped over her
cards, one at a time and revealed a 3 of spades followed by four Aces.
Alicia puckered her juicy red lips and
blew Enoch a kiss. She leaned over the table to collect all of the chips Enoch
and wagered and lost to her. She felt his eyes fall on her ample cleavage,
exposed by her low cut evening dress.
“Lucky, lucky me,” she said as she
greedily ran her fingers across all of the poker chips she had just added to
her own.
“Yes pretty lady. Lucky you,” Enoch
answered, still shocked that she had actually won and salty about the way she
chose to gloat.
Under the card table, Enoch raised his
foot and used his expensive designer shoe to roughly force Alicia’s thighs
apart. Suddenly, the cards she had clenched between them fell to the ground.
Sammie Slim immediately slid his chair back so he could get a better look under
the table to see if what they had all heard was really the sound of playing
cards flittering like heavy feathers to the floor. The ruthless, round-bellied
drug dealer couldn’t believe that she would dare to cheat. While Alicia
nervously eyed the other players at the table, Enoch casually reached for the
gun he always kept stashed under the table and then pointed it at her head. Mr.
Crowe continued to drink and pretended that he didn’t notice anything while
Sammie Slim cursed under his breath in Spanish.
“Lucky you, hmm?” said Enoch to Alicia.
“Puta bitch! Take this dirty bird outside
and shoot her! Shoot her now,” yelled Sammie Slim.
“Easy, easy. Take it easy fat man,” Enoch
answered him calmly.
“Slim’s right you know. She knows the
rules. She knew what would happen if she got caught,” Mr. Crowe said to Enoch
in his low, rumbling, raspy voice. “This is a very dangerous place to be
cheatin’ Mami. Taking the chance is risky but, gettin’ caught…well, that’s
probably fatal,” Mr. Crowe said to Alicia then tipped his hat politely to her,
the same way he had to the nervous bottle service girl he had frightened
before.
“Alicia, Alicia, Alicia. I see that those
thighs of yours are still deadly, and useful. Real sneaky the way you hid all
of those cards between them,” said Enoch.
Before Alicia could answer, Sammie Slim
grabbed a handful of her hair and violently yanked her head back.
“You…are going…to die…badly…and painfully you
bitch!” Sammie Slim growled in her ear.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself?
Any explanation for why you’d try something so dangerous? Or, maybe you might
want to beg? Not that it would do you any good at this point but, you can try,”
Enoch said to her.
“Fuck talkin’! No talkin’!” the fat man
yelled out of frustration and impatience. “Take this piece of shit outside and
shoot her!”
The other gamblers in the room at the
other five tables didn’t know exactly what was going on at the sixth table but,
with Enoch’s gun out and pointed at Alicia’s head, they knew enough. Slowly,
quietly and in an orderly fashion, they all began to shuffle towards the exit
before the shooting started. None of them wanted to get hit with any stray
bullets and none of them had any desire to see what was surely coming next.
Witnesses to such things tended to disappear, never to be seen again. Everyone
knew that ghosts couldn’t testify in court.
Alicia winced in pain as Sammie Slim
tightened his grip when he yanked on her head again but, under the card table,
she slowly reached for the small caliber pistol that she had also kept hidden
between her legs, safely secured in her black, lace garter.
“It would be a shame to have a bullet ruin
that pretty face though,” said Mr. Crowe to Enoch.
“I think so too. What do you think Slim?
Then again, forget it. We already know what you think. Fucking waste to me
though,” said Enoch while shaking his head.
Alicia defiantly slapped away the fat
man’s meaty hand and freed herself from his grip.
“I just got my hair done this morning you
asshole,” she complained.
With lightning quickness one wouldn’t
expect from a man so large, Sammie Slim brandished a butterfly knife seemingly
out of thin air like a magician and stabbed it into the card table in front of
Alicia. The tip of the blade impaled the Ace of Hearts which was part of
Alicia’s winning hand. The 3 of Spades, the Ace of Diamonds, Ace of
Clubs and finally, Ace of Spades all remain unscathed.
“I’m supposed to be scared, you fat fuck?”
Alicia asked.
Sammie dragged the knife out of the card
table and gently rest the blade against the soft skin on her throat, not hard
enough to draw blood but with enough force to let her know how sharp it was.
However, Alicia didn’t flinch or lose eye-contact with Enoch whose gun was
still pointed at her head.
“No, we won’t be able to scare you. I can
see in your eyes that even now, with this gun pointed at your head along with
full knowledge of my reputation, you’re not afraid at all, are you?” Enoch
asked Alicia.
“She should be,” Sammie Slim chimed in
before Alicia could answer. “A bullet is too quick, too clean for you. You will
scream. You will bleed. And then you will scream some more before you die you
bitch. I promise you that. Fuckin’ puta,” he growled at her.
“I bet you’d love that huh?” Alicia asked
Sammie Slim sarcastically.
“Yes, yes I would,” he answered.
“I bet the thought of that turns you on. I
bet you rather see me get tortured than fuck me. I bet hearing me scream and
beg would make your little dick hard wouldn’t it?” she continued to taunt
Sammie Slim.
“Yes it would…and by the way, it’s not
small baby,” he answered.
“Too bad. I’ve heard you only feed it to
men though. Everybody knows how much you hate women. I wonder why? Awww, did
some spicy little fox break the fat man’s heart once upon a time? No, that’s
not it. That’s too simple. It had to be something much deeper than that. Oh,
wait…did Sammie’s daddy touch him when he was a little boy? Maybe he did and
you found out you really liked it,” Alicia continued to wickedly taught Sammie
Slim. “That’s it, isn’t it? That’s why you’re a fag?” she asked and braced
herself for what was sure to happen next. She didn’t have to wait long.
Sammie Slim’s closed fist hit Alicia in
the mouth like a brick and split her lip. With a mouth full of blood, she
laughed hysterically because of how easily she had found what seemed to be a
chink in the ruthless man’s armor.
What had Alicia had said and the things
she had wrongly implied about Sammie’s father compelled him to share a story
that very few people had ever heard. It was a strange and intimate thing to
open up about but, he figured that she wasn’t going to live long enough to wag
her tongue about it outside of their little circle.
“My father was a good man…a hard-working
man. He was a plumber by trade and spent most of his days elbow deep in other
people’s shit. He did that so he could take care of us, my mother and me. My
mother was beautiful…even more beautiful than you, you slut,” Sammie Slim told
Alicia and as he tried to stick his finger in her mouth, she snapped her teeth,
nearly biting him but he pulled back just in time. “Every man in our
neighborhood wanted my mother, and she loved the attention. I know that my
father hated the way she dressed…the short skirts that showed off her long
legs…the low-cut blouses that showed too much of her breasts but, my father
loved her so he pretended not to see. In certain ways, he knew that she needed
to be free. He used to always say that birds don’t belong in cages, whatever
the fuck that means.”
“Your father was wiser than most men if he
understood that,” Alicia interrupted him but Sammie Slim ignored her comment
and continued with his story.
“One afternoon, my mother asked the
superintendent of our building to come over and fix a leak somewhere in our
apartment which didn’t make sense to me because, even though I couldn’t have
been more than five years old, I knew that my father could have fixed anything
in our place that was broken. He always did.
My mother ended up in the bedroom with the
scumbag super while I sat on the floor in front of the locked bedroom door.
I’ll never forget my father’s face, the shame I saw in his eyes when he came
home early and heard what I had been listening to for over an hour. He picked
me up in his arms and opened the bedroom door. He dropped me and vomited all
over the floor when he saw my mother bent over in their bed taking 13 inches of
dick and loving it. Do you know what 13 inches of meat looks like?” Sammie
asked Alicia.
“I do actually. A little bit much for me
but I guess your mom was what we call a size queen,” Alicia answered,
trying half-heartedly not to laugh in Sammie’s face. “I’m guessing your daddy
wasn’t packing anything even close to that…and they say dick size is hereditary
so, I’m guessing you aren’t either,” she said, this time laughing as she did.
Sammie Slim punched her again, this time
in the side of her head so hard that she saw stars and nearly blacked out.
“Your mother was a slut and your dad didn’t
have enough dick to please her so you grew up to hate women. We get it,” Alicia
groaned as she continued to taunt him fearlessly.
Sammie Slim raised his fist to strike her
again but Enoch nodded and stopped him.
“I suggest you stop antagonizing him,”
Enoch warned her.
“I’m not afraid of this pig,” she answered
defiantly with the small caliber pistol still secured firmly in her grip under
the table. Only Enoch’s large caliber gun pointed at her head kept her from
using it.
“Oh, I know you’re not scared of him.
Don’t forget that I know who you are, Alicia Rose,” Enoch reminded her.
“Runaway wild child who killed her first pimp at fifteen. Rumor has it that you
killed three more after that. Then, as soon as you turned eighteen you came to
work for me here at the club and we made a lot of money together. You hustled the
most dangerous hustlers…the ones that all of the other girls were afraid of.
You remember how we used to set them up? Rob them? Even had to kill a few. Yes,
we made a lot of money together. There is real power in your pussy. I’ll give
you that. I know you Alicia, but I never thought you’d try to hustle me,
especially not at something as petty as a card game.”
“Petty? There’s a lot of money at this
table,” she answered.
“This?” Enoch laughed as he waved his hand
over the chips that were still stacked in front of him. “This is small money
compared to what you’re used to now. It might’ve been a lot to you back when
you were serving drinks here for me but I know that you’ve graduated to
blackmailing athletes and celebrities, caught on tape doing the dirtiest, most
degenerate deeds imaginable. That’s where the real money’s at. It’s more
profitable and much safer than trying to rip off a bunch of ruthless criminals.
I’ve heard you have a team of hoes and sneaky set-up bitches working ‘round the
clock for you. Let me ask you, is it true that you’ve even got a few
politicians in your sticky, scummy pockets now that can’t let their wives or
the voters know what they REALLY like, or how they like it?” Enoch asked,
sounding as if he truly, genuinely respected her hustle.
“All rumors,” she answered and frowned at
Enoch in disgust because she knew exactly why he had brought up the shady past
when she used to work for him. They had done a lot of dirt together and she was
sure that he wanted to remind her what HE was also capable of.
“Rumors huh?” he chuckled. “You’re like a
deadly, sexually-transmitted disease. Most men that come in contact with you
end up dead,” said Enoch.
“The ones who aren’t breathing are the
ones who didn’t deserve to live anyway,” Alicia answered.
“Well, what I’m trying to figure out is
how we got here. You and I parted ways on good terms, or at least that’s what I
thought. So, why are you here trying to rip me off for this little bit of
change?” Enoch asked, genuinely curious.
“Big, BIG balls on this bitch,” Sammie
Slim chimed in.
“You’re gonna want to borrow somebody
else’s after I blow off the tiny ones you got between your greasy legs you fat
fuck!” Alicia threatened Sammie as she slammed her small pistol into his crotch
underneath the card table.
Alicia smiled when Sammie yelped in pain.
Enoch laughed out loud and Mr. Crowe continued to calmly drink his liquor as if
he was oblivious to the deadly standoff.
“That’s for fucking up my hair,” she
growled as she pressed the little pistol hard into his crotch and nearly
crushed his testicles. “Put your gun down Enoch, or I swear I’ll turn this
prick into a woman.”
“You know what would really be ironic?”
Enoch started to ask but Alicia interrupted him.
“Yes, I’m holding the little pistol you
sold me years ago,” she answered his question before he had a chance to ask it.
“And my handiwork comes back to haunt me
of course. I forgot I even sold that to you until just now. Should have had
them frisk you at the door. I must be getting sloppy, or senile, or both,” said
Enoch while shaking his head.
“Must be,” Alicia answered dryly. “Now,
put your gun down before I make a mess.”
“You must know that that move will not
save your pretty ass,” Mr. Crowe told Alicia as he examined the bottom of the
empty bottle of champagne in his hand.
“And I’m supposed to be terrified right?”
Alicia asked, her question directed at all three of the dangerous men seated at
the table. “What you all need to be asking yourselves is what kind of bitch
would try to pull off some shit like this, knowing exactly who she was dealing
with. How many men would have even had the guts to sit down and gamble with
Sammie Gustavo Slim, the heroin king? What kind of crazy broad would be bold
enough to walk into the same room with Mr. Crowe, the alcoholic contract killer
who they say aims better when he’s drunk? I’ve heard that he’s probably killed
more men than cancer.” Mr. Crowe grinned as she acknowledged his legendary
reputation and he tipped his fedora to respectfully salute Alicia before she
continued. “Who in their right mind would try to cheat you, Enoch, the club
owner and arms dealer? I’ve heard that you’re impossible to catch or kill, or
at least you have been so far. There are even people who think you just may be
the devil himself. Anything that’s wicked or fucked up, you’ve got a finger in
it, if not your whole goddamn hand. Everyone knows that once they owe you a
debt, there’ll be hell to pay before the end. What kind of woman would risk her
soul to try to get over on you?” Alicia asked her former boss.
“Ooohhh,
you sound so scary when you talk like that,” Enoch mocked her. “You know who I
am but here you are, underestimating me, as if every bit of my reputation
wasn’t earned,” Enoch laughed. “I’ll tell you what kind of woman plays a game this
dangerous…an overconfident, conceited one. One who has, for as long as she can
remember, played dangerous games and walked away without many scratches. One
who thinks she got into our little card game by showing off her tits and
swinging her ass around. One who owes me a favor and is desperate to find a way
out of settling her debt,” Enoch answered. “You know, Sammie and Crowe both
asked me why I let you in the game. They hadn’t heard of you but like Santa, I
know all of the naughty children. They’re my business…the sinners. I know who
and what you are Alicia.”
“Really?”
Alicia asked.
“I think
so,” he answered before he blew her a kiss. “Now, let’s see if we can sort this
out.”
“You
mean, you want to know if we can resolve our issues before I blow Sammie’s balls
off?” Alicia asked.
“Sammie’s
balls? No, you need better bargaining chips than those,” Enoch laughed again.
“If I spare your life, I’m going to need blackmailed favors from the friends
you’ve made in high places. I don’t really give a shit about Sammie’s balls at
all.”
“No?
Well, if I had to guess, I’d say you WOULD care a great deal about that twisted
mind inside your skull, right? I’d even go so far as to bet that you wouldn’t
want to have your brains splattered all over my cleavage,” Alicia threatened
Enoch with a confident smile as she ran her fingers suggestively between her
large, D-cup breasts.
“And you
would manage that how?” Enoch asked.
Suddenly,
the brown skinned, blonde bottle service girl that Mr. Crowe had frightened
earlier pressed a chrome pistol to the back of Enoch’s head.
“Ahh,
the plot thickens,” said Enoch, sincerely surprised to find himself in such a
dangerous predicament. “You play dirty,” he said to Alicia.
“Learned
from the best,” she answered.
“Wow…what
a room full of detestable villains we are,” Mr. Crowe said as he leaned
slightly in his chair to get a better view of the armed bottle service girl’s
big, flawless, round ass. “And I’ve been tipping her all night to see if I
could maybe get to fuck her later. Damn. Tonight, it’s just tragedy after
tragedy. Two beautiful women are going to be wasted because of their own
treachery,” he said. “And what kind of fools are we to gamble with women like
this?” Mr. Crowe asked while locking eyes with Alicia.
“I’m
sure that it’s one of my guns pointed at the back of my head too, isn’t it?”
Enoch asked.
“It sure
is,” Alicia chuckled.
“You
shouldn’t have gotten Steph involved in this. Well, there’s no turning back
now,” Enoch said to Alicia. “You’re in deep now for sure pretty ladies,” he
told both women.
“Alright…enough!”
Mr. Crowe growled before he brandished two beautiful but deadly, .45 Magnum
revolvers faster than lightning. One, he pointed at Alicia. The other he aimed at
the bottle service girl with the big ass and shaky hands. “Enoch sold me THESE guns
too,” he slurred.
“Now…THAT
man is pissy drunk,” said Enoch, pointing out Mr. Crowe’s elevated level of
intoxication. “I’ll bet he can’t even stand but could probably clip a butterfly
in the wing from a hundred yards away and both of your faces are much closer
than that. And I bet even Slim’s got a gun tucked away somewhere under that
monstrous belly of his. I also bet Slim could still pull a trigger, even
without his nuts. He’d probably be even meaner without ‘em,” Enoch joked while
maintaining a serious expression on his face.
What
followed was a long silence as everyone in the room weighed their options as
they tried to guess how the standoff would end. People were definitely going to
die and no one wanted to be one of the casualties. Before long, the unexpected
sound of footsteps broke the silence as an old man, with old bones, in old
boots made his way across the room towards the table.
“Ah, a
new player approaches. My fellow black-hearted villains…a moment please. I
believe that someone is here to see me,” said Enoch.
Rudy
walked closer to the table cautiously, like a squirrel ready to run at the
first threatening rapid movement. He swallowed hard before he took the last
step that would put him close enough to Enoch to be heard.
“E…Enoch…Mr.
Enoch…Mr. E,” Rudy stuttered nervously, not quite sure how to properly address
the man respectfully without giving offense.
“What
could you possibly want with me, Dad?” Enoch asked Rudy to the shock and
surprise of everyone at the table. No one could have guessed that the vagabond,
vagrant that had snuck his way into the back room of the club was Enoch’s
father. “For YOUR problems, I believe you would be needing Sammie Slim or…maybe
that degenerate Manuel, depending on what you prefer…the dope or the cain. I
don’t know if you prefer the devil’s candy in your nose or in your veins.”
“I…I
don’t do drugs. I never have, son,” Rudy answered, not sure if it was even safe
to call Enoch son.
“Well,
in that case, maybe you need something else…but I seriously doubt that Ms.
Alicia would offer the likes of you any of her services, even though…the world
IS full of surprises,” Enoch suggested.
“Fuck
you!” Alicia cursed Enoch and raised her middle finger.
“No,
you’re who I came lookin’ for. It’s you I came to talk to,” Rudy told Enoch.
“As you
can see, I am currently involved in what could become a very painful situation
for me so, get on with it, please,” Enoch urged his father.
“I got
somethin’ I thought you might want to buy. I know you deal with these things,”
Rudy tried to explain.
“Things?
Be more specific,” Enoch told him while twirling his finger impatiently.
“I got a
gun to sell,” Rudy told him.
“Are you
fucking serious? Are you kidding me? A gun? Why would I want to buy a gun from
the likes of you? Do you know I sell more guns than the CIA and the fucking
fallen Soviet Union combined?” Enoch roared. He exaggerated of course but he
did move a lot of guns through the city. “Get the fuck outta here before one of
these bitches blows my fucking head off!”
Disappointed
and dejected, Rudy turned around to walk away without protest. As he made his
way to the exit, he took out the gun he had wanted to sell and when Enoch
spotted it, it caught his attention.
“Wait a
minute. Let me see that,” Enoch called out to his father.
Rudy
slowly walked back over to his son’s side while carefully keeping out of
anyone’s line of fire. He gently placed the gun in Enoch’s outstretched hand.
Once Enoch had it in his grip, he examined it with the freakishly strange
sensuality, almost as if he was studying the curves on a woman’s body.
“I know
you,” Enoch whispered to the gun before he softly, creepily kissed the barrel.
Then, he sniffed it as if it was a fragrant flower, or a pair of women’s
underwear that had been worn. “I sold this gun to a drug dealer about a year
ago. I wonder how you got this and what happened to him?” Enoch inquired.
“I found
it…and I think he’s dead,” Rudy answered.
“Oh
well, I did warn him to get out of that business before it was late. I saw in
his eyes that his heart wasn’t in it anymore. In that game, when that happens,
a man loses his edge and death, or the Feds, usually come knocking soon after,”
said Enoch.
“So you
want to buy it?” Rudy asked impatiently, anxious to get out of that back room
as soon as possible.
“No,”
Enoch answered and nonchalantly tossed the gun back to Rudy who bobbled it
before he finally secured it in his shaky grip.
“But…I
could really use the money,” Rudy pleaded with his ruthless son.
“Money?
You need money? You’ve got a gun. Go rob somebody if you need money so bad.
Now, get the fuck outta my place before you get me shot!” Enoch yelled at his
father.
Rudy
held his head down in shame as he made his way to the exit again. Just as he
began open the door to leave, Enoch called out to him once more.
“Hey…before
you go…I wonder if you would mind shooting someone for me before you leave…even
though I didn’t buy the gun?” Enoch asked.
Rudy
walked out without answering.
“Didn’t
think so,” Enoch mumbled.
Copyright
© 2016 Keith Kareem Williams
All
rights reserved.
I hope you enjoyed the sample from "Death in the City." Use the link below to order an autographed copy directly from yours truly.
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