Don't mess around with Slim

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ShneekeyTheLost
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Don't mess around with Slim

Post by ShneekeyTheLost »

So, I was listening to a certain Jim Croce song, and this scene unfolded before my mental eyes, then would NOT leave me alone until I put it down. Consider it non-canon and non-fanon, just a cute little vignette for funsies.

---

Every parent's worst nightmare always involves their children gone missing. Katherine had mellowed out somewhat and had a more laid-back attitude where parenting was concerned. She knew quite well that her girls were less prone to the various hazards which might befall most children their respective ages, which helped keep the fear at bay when, as is the case, one of them is a bit tardy. But three hours late is a bit much, even for her oldest. Of course, it was most likely that she'd spent more time with Nadette than she realized, the precious thing. Still, an icicle of fear trickled down her spine. It was nearly midnight now, she had school in the morning. So, she made a phone call

"Yello?"

"Oh hi, it's Katherine, Atsali's mother? I was just wondering if she was on her way back yet."

"Atsali? She left here... oh, 'bout four hours or so ago. Why?"

"Oh, no reason. You know kids these days, probably got sidetracked. Thanks." Her voice did not betray the falling sensation in her gut.

"Don't I just. Well, if she gets grounded, make sure to let us know so we can make sure Nadette doesn't try an end-around on you."

"Bless you, but I don't think it will be necessary on a first offense. I'll just have a... meaningful conversation... when she gets back." Her voice had decidedly gone June Cleaver, which only made her more annoyed. When she got nervous, she always tried to hide it. And it was better to go Betty Crocker than... some alternatives.

After a few pleasantries, they disconnected, and she paced nervously. Finally, she picked up the phone again. After a few rings a lady's voice muttered

"This'd better be good, Kath." Shelly grumbled. Clearly, there was an interruption.

"Atsali's about three hours late coming back from Nadette's. I just got done talking to Nadette's parents, who said she left on time."

Some shuffling and bumping occurred on the other end "Right." was the no-nonsense response "We'll be right over."

Fifteen minutes later, there was a doorbell ring. Dashing to the door, she let Shelly and Justin in. "Oh, do come in. Please."

"First off, Kath, do you want me to be officially here or unofficially? If something has happened to her, the sooner the police are involved, the better." Justin's voice was that same bland beat-cop voice used in any Domestic Disturbance call.

"Let's start by doing this unofficially. Besides, if it is that kind of problem, it isn't going to be one that the mundane police will be able to handle. Atsali would be able to rip any would-be mugger or rapist in half without trying if it were just a human."

"Right. So, let's talk options. Three hours isn't too bad, if this is a worst-case scenario, but every minute counts, so we need to get on this ASAP." Justin replied "Has anyone called MIB in yet?"

"Not yet. Frankly, I'm not exactly sure what they could do in this sort of situation. I suppose I'll have to eventually if we can't figure out what happened."

Shelly, on the other hand, was on her cell phone "Hey there, gran. Yes, just fine. Uh huh. Look, you remember Atsali, right? Has she been through the Library lately? Uh huh, and the portal system? Oh, no reason, thanks. Bye." Shelly very carefully put the phone down. The other adults looked over to her, and she shook her head "Nope, haven't used the Library or the portal system all day."

"Well, that leave out visiting a different time zone and losing track of time..." Katherine's flippancy was so sour it would've curdled milk at a hundred yards.

"Kath, I know you don't..." Justin started, but she interrupted

"Look, I called you two over here because I trust you more than the MIB. I know, I know... first twenty four hours are the most important in a case like that, but hopefully this isn't going to turn out to be..." Kath was interrupted by the door opening.

Atsali limped in through the door. Her nose had been bleeding very reccently, one eye was beginning to purple, there was a clear impact-mark on her cheek, and she favored her left leg. More subtly, but recognizable to Kath were the bruise marks on her arms and wrists. Suddenly, all that fear Kath was trying to ignore blazed into motherly fury. Atsali froze in place, the fear of punishment, and possibly another fear as well, struck her where she stood.

"Sweetie, come in and close the door. What exactly happened to you?" Kath's voice was light, she didn't want to spook Atsali and the Command Voice would have the opposite of the desired effect at the moment. Her military-trained eye, however, took in her wounds and immediately came up with a few suspicions. Justin, with his police training, frowned. He'd seen more than his fair share of battered victims before, and could put together the placement of her wounds with likely events just as easily.

"I... well... you know that pool hall down the road from Nadette's? I was walking by w-when a big guy came up an... an..."

"Did he..." Kath's voice was as cold as steel

"N-n-no. I mean, he wanted to... bu-but I got away. I think I tore a wing, though."

"Shelly, Can you take her to Para Central? I want her checked out. Completely." Shelly understood that included a victim's kit and nodded

"Sure, I can do that for you." Also understood was why Kath was unavailable, until Justin put a calm hand on Kath's shoulder

"Kath, listen to me. You go down there, it's going to be manslaughter at best, murder two most likely. Even if MIB cleans it up, there's going to be a body on the floor, and there's going to be police involved. Let me take care of it for you, and take your daughter in to get checked out."

"And won't you get into a bit of trouble? Loose your badge?"

"No, I'm, not going cowboy on this. This guy has to go down, sure, but I'm a cop. I swore to uphold the law, not take it into my own hands. Having said that, and since MIB is the law enforcement agency with jurisdiction at this time, I can help them run a sting operation. I'm not going to kill him, therefore the police are either going to take their own sweet time responding or not respond at all and letting it get 'lost'. Then I let the MIB take care of him, and the locals aren't going to blink an eye at having Feds cart him off permanently." He looks over at Atsali "Did you get a name?"

"All I know is someone called out to him by the name 'Jim'."

"He a big fellah? Like about so tall?" He held his hand about a foot higher than his own height "Built like a cross between a linebacker and a brick wall?"

"Y-yea."

"You know him?" Kath's eyes blazed with fury as they bore down on Justin.

"Yea. He's kept his nose clean with the MIB, but the police suspect him of... many things. He's what you get when you cross a minotaur with a succubus, and none of the morals. But this? This is se... er.. assault of a minor." He quickly change what he was going to say so Atsali wouldn't be even more upset, but the others understood exactly what he was going to say. “They're going to make sure this never happens again. Promise.”

"All right, I suppose." Kath was not happy, but understood what was left unsaid "Shelly, could you watch Pickle?"

"Oh, of course, I'd be more than happy to."

---

42nd St wasn't always this bad. In fact, it still wasn't really bad, and many of the neighborhoods around here were quite pleasant. Unfortunately, since Jim came around, a seedy element had taken over the pool hall. The light out in the alley was broken, and the murky depths were gloomy with indistinct figures moving about. Justin didn't much care, and strode into the pool hall.

"Hey! Anyone know where I can find a fellah named Jim? Big fellow, built like a brick house, and almost as smart?"

The noise vanished abruptly, even the juke box stopped. Finally, the bartender spoke up "Look, you're probably pissed 'cause he sharked you. Trust me, leave. Whatever you lost, it ain't worth it. An' it ain't nearly what's gonna happen to you if you don't turn around and walk away. You don' wanna mess with Big Jim."

Justin walked over to the bartender and smiled "I appreciate that, I really do. But I'm not one for letting stuff like that happen. It's a matter of principle."

"Yea? Your principle's gonna get you killed. Say, you got a name?"

"Call me Slim, everyone else does. This is personal. Some things, a man can't let go."

The barkeep shrugs "Your funeral, kid. An' serious as a heart attack, if you don't run along soon, it may well be." The fear in the bartender's eyes was real, Justin realized. Here was someone who honestly cared. Looking at the bartender's arm, he saw a tattoo of a humanoid frog. Justin looked back up at the old Bartender, and quirked an eye

"Get that island hopping in the pacific?" Justin asked

"Could say that. Been a while since I've been there. Surprised a kid as young as you would recognize it. Nobody much cares these days."

"Some still carry on the tradition. But I figure a man who went by sea, air, and land could understand why sometimes a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do."

The Bartender's face suddenly became inscrutable. "Yea, guess that's so. Well," the bartender nods to the entrance "here's your chance. Good luck, son."

The fellow entering had to side-step to get through the door, because his shoulders were that big across, and he had to stoop to get his head clear.

Justin nods, and slides off of the barstool like a prize fighter "Hey! You, big and ugly! You the man they call 'Jim'?" As if by magic, the entire room cleared as people ran to the walls to get out of the way. Justin walked up to the middle of the room, he wouldn't want the bar area getting damaged after all.

The big fellow was rather nonplussed at first, then laughed "You know, you got a pair on you, kid, I'll give you that. Sure, I'm Jim. You gotta know, you ain't walkin' out of here, but so's we can tell the underkeeper, what brought you down here?"

"Little girl, 'bout so tall, stacked like a Las Vegas poker deck. What'd you do to her?"

"Oh, her? I guess your her brother or somethin'? Well, I guess you got a full head of steam on, then. I didn't do nothin' she didn't ask for, an' you can't prove otherwise."

"Oh really? That's a nice set of defensive wounds on your face. You know what they do in prison to people who attack underage girls? Lemme give you a hint: you aren't gonna be the one pitching."

"Whoa, hey. Easy there, tiger." his smile and tone of voice was condescendion "She sure as hades don't look like no minor. Ain't no one gonna say other wise, either. Look..." the big fellow steps forward and claps a hand on Justin's shoulder and takes a firm grip "You got an awful big mouth for a little squirt. Be careful it don't write a check your ass can't cash. There's only one way this fight is gonna go, and it ain't in your favor."

"Try me."

The right cross sent Justin flying to land on a table, his momentum caused the table to flip, and landed him ingloriously on his head.

Someone snickered, then got real quiet "Hey, he had guts. No brains, an' all the survival instinct of a lemming, but guts. I respect that, even if I had ta show 'im. Someone clean that up." A gasp echoed across the room as Justin stood up and brushed himself off.

"Uhh, boss?" someone asked in a voice quavering in fear as the man who should by all rights be dead just got up. Jim, who had turned his back, looked over his shoulder and grinned

"Well well, looks like you got a little fight left in ya. Gotta hand it to ya, thought I broke your face with that one."

Justin spit sideways, blood coloring it, then cracked his neck one way, then the other. "My ex played rougher than that. Now it's my turn."

One of the punks by the bar grabbed a pool cue, but the bartender put a restraining hand on the punk's shoulder and shook his head "Stay outta this one. Trust me." and with that, the barkeep leaned back with his arms crossed and a grin on his face. Today, someone was gonna get some long-overdue comeuppance.

---

A few hours later, and there were four squad cars around the pool hall. One of the police was talking to the bartender

"So, care to explain exactly what happened?"

"Ain't much to explain. Jim over there run roughshod over the wrong person." he gestured to the mostly unconscious and well-beaten softly groaning figure prominently laid out in the middle of the room. There wasn't much furniture left intact. "I can definitively state that Jim took the first swing. Sure as hell didn't take the last, though."

"Care to describe the other fellow?"

"Oh, you know, average fellow. Average size, average height, average build, blond and blue. Had the look of a Navy boy. He recognized this." he gestured to his tattoo on his bicep "Not many do, these days. Wouldn't be surprised if he had one himself."

"Did this 'average fellow' have a name?"

"He said to call him Slim."

"Right." The cop made a few notes "So... anything else?

"Yea, you don't wanna mess with Slim." the disturbance outside gave way to three individuals in suits and ray-bans. At almost three in the morning.

"Tha hell?" was the cop's initial reaction "What are feds doing getting involved with a random scene?"

"Director Oyuda." A badge was flashed "We've been looking for this one."

"Oh yea? What for?"

A medical file was presented. A lady battered, the cop immediately recognized the bruise pattern on the wrist and arm and the wounds in the facial area "Yea? Sucks, but why's feds involved? Take her across state borders?"

"She's still a minor."

It took the cop two beats. "Fine. What about the other fellah, though?"

"Who, Mr Average?" she shrugged "Who cares? Big Jim swung first, he's not even that badly damaged, just a little broken around the edges. You've been real interested in Jim for a while. So have we. Now he's going to be sidelined. Permanently."

"Not to shed any tears, but you sure you can keep him down permanently on a charge like that?"

"He's got financial ties that OFAC are very interested in. Apparently he's been using some of his high-stakes games as a venue for laundering money for some very bad people. I believe the IRS is going to be extremely interested in certain small matters as well. Potentially other three letter agencies as well. In fact, we are currently acting under the PATRIOT Act. So yes, I am confident that he won't be disturbing your precinct ever again."

"Well, ain't that a thing." the cop murmurs in an almost reverent tone of voice before being reminded of harsh reality "Paperwork's gonna suck, though."

"Doesn't it always? You'll have it on your desk in the morning."

The other two feds pick up the unfortunate fellow, who regains semi-consciousness. "Huh, wha..."

"Oh, good. You're awake." Brandi walks over and leans over the large figure on the floor as the two others heave him to his feet.

"Who're you..." his voice was a bit slurred from the busted lip and cut tongue

"Strike three, bully-boy. You're out." She lifts her other badge. His eyes suddenly go white

"Wait.. no no no... hey! Cops! You gonna let her piss all over your jurisdiction?" He pleads to the cops on the scene.

The cops look at each other and grin, then shrug "Sorry. She's got the paperwork, our hands are tied."

"No, no... you don't get it... look, I... I admit it, I pounded that fellow like a tent peg. I deserve local lock-up. Okay? I even admit to pounding a few other fellows around here. Come on. You gonna let a collar walk like this?"

"Sorry, Andhros d'Minos," Brandi whispered "You picked the wrong girl to assault. Just be glad it's me. Her mother wouldn't have left enough of you to fill a matchbox with. But don't worry, we'll find something... appropriate."

Around the corner, down that dark alley, the feds and their perp took three more steps, just to be sure...

*POIT*
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Re: Don't mess around with Slim

Post by Just Old Al »

"Well, a hush fell over the poolroom....."

Bravo, Shneek! Love it.
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Re: Don't mess around with Slim

Post by FreeFlier »

The only thing lower than a rapist is a child molester . . . Neither does well in prison.

Well done!

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Re: Don't mess around with Slim

Post by FreeFlier »

The other song that comes to mind is Coward of the County.

Not an exact parallel, but sometimes a man has to fight.

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Re: Don't mess around with Slim

Post by Sgt. Howard »

When I was working at Santa Clara Valley Medical Center back in the '80s, a fellow was brought in emergency over the weekend- penis was bit near the base. Not really bad, but I bet it hurt. He's cuffed to the gurney. I ask Lurch (the Guard) what's going ion. He tells me this guy was forcing oral sex out of a couple of tween-agers and the 14 year old bit him. Attending and resident are talking in low tones in the corner as the guy is put under. Lurch informs me this guy has a long record- this is before 'three strikes'.
We scrub, gown the doctors, drape the patient- resident says in loud voice, "I believe the vascular supply has been compromised too much to salvage- I am opting for a complete amputation."
"I concur." stated the attending. I said nothing and handed instruments...
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Re: Don't mess around with Slim

Post by FreeFlier »

We had one fell down the stairs . . . brick and concrete. All four half-flights.

He was lucky at that . . . the initial plan was to throw him out the third-floor window.

He wasn't very bright . . . he beat the charge on a technicality, and came right back . . . then he attacked someone I knew . . .

From his viewpoint, that wasn't the best choice, but everybody else thought it was perfect!

She taught karate . . . when he realized he was losing and pulled a knife, she beat him to within an inch of his life (rumor has it she broke just about every bone in his body) and then flipped him into the nearly-empty irrigation canal.

He was three months in hospital . . . though that might have been three months in intensive care. Reportedly they had to treat him for cholera, thyphoid, and plague, plus other lesser diseases and the trauma.

And the trauma included amputation of a testicle. Genuinely necessary, too! (Reportedly it was necrotic.)

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Re: Don't mess around with Slim

Post by Atomic »

So -- who gets the Lincoln Continental, and the El Dorado too?
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Re: Don't mess around with Slim

Post by Dave »

Atomic wrote:So -- who gets the Lincoln Continental, and the El Dorado too?
Doesn't Glytch have a laser in his shoe?
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Re: Don't mess around with Slim

Post by Hanineal »

Brandy will put him away, Atsali scratched his face, Justin beat him to a pulp, and Kath would have only left a thimble full of him.

Good thing Pickle wasn't there. She wouldn't have left more than a burnt smudge on the floor.

Sometimes you just pick on the wrong folks...
What happens in the lab needs to stay in the lab... because it's such a bloody drag to have to rebuild civilization all over again.
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Re: Don't mess around with Slim

Post by Just Old Al »

Dave wrote:
Atomic wrote:So -- who gets the Lincoln Continental, and the El Dorado too?
Doesn't Glytch have a laser in his shoe?
No, that's in the collar stay. The shoe is a particle cannon..
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Re: Don't mess around with Slim

Post by lake_wrangler »

ShneekeyTheLost wrote:So, I was listening to a certain Jim Croce song, and this scene unfolded before my mental eyes, then would NOT leave me alone until I put it down. Consider it non-canon and non-fanon, just a cute little vignette for funsies.
Why all the disclaimers? My understanding of fanfiction was that it needed not fit into any continuity in particular, and certainly not have to fit in the mold of other, already published fanfictions... One-off fanfictions can certainly stand on their own. At the most, I've seen some where the author explained where, within the established story, their hypothetical story would fit, so that we know what to expect from any given character (for instance, if a fanfiction was to be written about Shelly, shortly after she came back form the Time Forest, we would expect Shelly to be not quite sure of herself and where she fits in, but the author could still do whatever else he wanted with the story...)

Having said that, I thoroughly enjoyed the story. It was realistic, the call backs to the song were amusing, and it was, overall, well written. (That, and it's always fun to see someone get their comeuppance, when they deserve it so...) A pleasure to read.
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Re: Don't mess around with Slim

Post by Warrl »

Sgt. Howard wrote:When I was working at Santa Clara Valley Medical Center back in the '80s, a fellow was brought in emergency over the weekend- penis was bit near the base. Not really bad, but I bet it hurt. He's cuffed to the gurney. I ask Lurch (the Guard) what's going ion. He tells me this guy was forcing oral sex out of a couple of tween-agers and the 14 year old bit him. Attending and resident are talking in low tones in the corner as the guy is put under. Lurch informs me this guy has a long record- this is before 'three strikes'.
We scrub, gown the doctors, drape the patient- resident says in loud voice, "I believe the vascular supply has been compromised too much to salvage- I am opting for a complete amputation."
"I concur." stated the attending. I said nothing and handed instruments...
Yeah, sometimes lack of proper blood flow to certain parts of the brain requires drastic treatment.
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Re: Don't mess around with Slim

Post by GlytchMeister »

lake_wrangler wrote:
ShneekeyTheLost wrote:So, I was listening to a certain Jim Croce song, and this scene unfolded before my mental eyes, then would NOT leave me alone until I put it down. Consider it non-canon and non-fanon, just a cute little vignette for funsies.
Why all the disclaimers? My understanding of fanfiction was that it needed not fit into any continuity in particular, and certainly not have to fit in the mold of other, already published fanfictions... One-off fanfictions can certainly stand on their own. At the most, I've seen some where the author explained where, within the established story, their hypothetical story would fit, so that we know what to expect from any given character (for instance, if a fanfiction was to be written about Shelly, shortly after she came back form the Time Forest, we would expect Shelly to be not quite sure of herself and where she fits in, but the author could still do whatever else he wanted with the story...)

Having said that, I thoroughly enjoyed the story. It was realistic, the call backs to the song were amusing, and it was, overall, well written. (That, and it's always fun to see someone get their comeuppance, when they deserve it so...) A pleasure to read.
We kinda have our own continuity going... you should probably ask Al or Warrl for details, I think. I struggle a bit at keeping track of it.
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Re: Don't mess around with Slim

Post by GlytchMeister »

Just Old Al wrote:
Dave wrote:
Atomic wrote:So -- who gets the Lincoln Continental, and the El Dorado too?
Doesn't Glytch have a laser in his shoe?
No, that's in the collar stay. The shoe is a particle cannon..
Heh heh heh heh heh.

I'm planning on him developing a couple of... interesting gadgets.

Never tell a rigger he can build anything he can afford... and then give him a big paycheck.
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Re: Don't mess around with Slim

Post by Atomic »

lake_wrangler wrote:Why all the disclaimers? My understanding of fanfiction was that it needed not fit into any continuity in particular, and certainly not have to fit in the mold of other, already published fanfictions... One-off fanfictions can certainly stand on their own.
I'm reminded of the story about why nobody can find Jimmy Hoffa -- because the Rapture has already occurred!
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Re: Don't mess around with Slim

Post by Dave »

Atomic wrote:I'm reminded of the story about why nobody can find Jimmy Hoffa -- because the Rapture has already occurred!
That... is a rather grim thought. A bit like the way the Wizard of Zao freaked out his religious-fundamentalist jailers... he talked at length about the cult who believed that the world had already ended, but nobody noticed because the afterlife was so ordinary. The jailers were so horrified of the heresy that they passed out.

I prefer the alternate theory... that Hoffa's body was very carefully concealed, so that it would never be found, and couldn't be detected by even the most sensitive scientific method. The killers wrapped his body in a sealed shroud of impermeable plastic, put him in a steel coffin, filled it with concrete, and welded it shut... then buried it in a dam that was being constructed. Even the most sensitive-nosed dog wouldn't get a trace of scent from his body.

They made him a Hoffa that can't diffuse.
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Re: Don't mess around with Slim

Post by Just Old Al »

Dave wrote:
Atomic wrote:I'm reminded of the story about why nobody can find Jimmy Hoffa -- because the Rapture has already occurred!
That... is a rather grim thought. A bit like the way the Wizard of Zao freaked out his religious-fundamentalist jailers... he talked at length about the cult who believed that the world had already ended, but nobody noticed because the afterlife was so ordinary. The jailers were so horrified of the heresy that they passed out.

I prefer the alternate theory... that Hoffa's body was very carefully concealed, so that it would never be found, and couldn't be detected by even the most sensitive scientific method. The killers wrapped his body in a sealed shroud of impermeable plastic, put him in a steel coffin, filled it with concrete, and welded it shut... then buried it in a dam that was being constructed. Even the most sensitive-nosed dog wouldn't get a trace of scent from his body.

They made him a Hoffa that can't diffuse.
Pun jar. NOW.
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Re: Don't mess around with Slim

Post by Dave »

(Dave walks over to the Pun Jar's media return slot, and donates a copy of "How To Swim With Sharks Without Being Eaten Alive", a rare 35mm print of "The Mystery of the Leaping Fish", and a signed first edition of "The Codfather").
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Re: Don't mess around with Slim

Post by Warrl »

GlytchMeister wrote:We kinda have our own continuity going... you should probably ask Al or Warrl for details, I think. I struggle a bit at keeping track of it.
Yeah, we do, but there's plenty of room for vignettes that happen at a not-very-specified time... heck, I wrote one myself. And then there's Winter Vignettes, where the time is (obviously) approximately known but the exact order is not.
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Re: Don't mess around with Slim

Post by AmriloJim »

I was noticing the comments borrowed from two different Jim Croce story-songs.

The original tale drew from "You Don't Mess Around With Jim." Jim Walker was a hustler described as the King of 42nd Street who drives a drop-top Cadillac and owns a two-piece custom-made pool cue.

Meanwhile, some commenters remembered a custom Continental and an Eldorado, too... as well as a .32 gun for fun and a razor in a shoe. That was "Bad, Bad Leroy Brown," whose transgression was messing with the wife of a jealous man.

Both involve title characters who are on the receiving end of physical retribution, so a co-mingling of the songs is understandable.
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