human
Oh, no! I said.
gpt
Not you. Not--
human
Hoiman Katz, he said, in dejected tones.
gpt
It is me, again. The same as like always, only not so better.
human
Are you a wrestler, Mr. Katz?
gpt
Now I esk you!
human
I guess not. Then,
gpt
Shall I bring you something?
human
I'll have a--
gpt
Planet Punch?
human
No. I'll have a--
gpt
Solar Sling? Martian Mule?
human
Martian! he groaned.
gpt
With rassling, too! Bring me a bottle of beer. Two bottles! After a moment he peered cautiously through slitted lids.
human
Is she gone? he whispered.
gpt
Such woids. Rassling. Martian. Better I should have stood in Hollywood.
human
What's the matter with wrestling, Hoiman? Last I heard you were managing a good boy--what was his name?
gpt
Killer Coogan? That bum!
human
Yeah, I said,
gpt
Okay, so he won some bouts with it. But that was twenty-five years ago. He's slower, can't use that holt any more. We ain't had no main events for a long time, and my bum is a big eater, see?
human
So?
gpt
So Hoiman Katz is not sleeping yet at the switch. He's got it up here. A grimy forefinger tapped his wrinkled brow.
human
I says, Hoiman, if we don't get it here, we gotta go where we _can_ get it.