“No shit,” Leo says. “You stole a man’s lunch and his hobby.”
Marv’s face goes slack. “That’s… that’s not right.”
He reaches into his own jacket. Marv flinches. Leo pulls out a folded napkin, opens it. Inside: a single, beautiful gold pocket watch. Engraved. pulp-fiction
“Nah, man, no time. But it’s heavy. Felt like watches.”
“So I grab the case,” Marv says, eyes wide, “and I’m out the window—three stories, fire escape catches me—and the guy inside, he’s still sleeping.” “No shit,” Leo says
He stands. Drops a five on the table for the coffee.
Leo sets his cup down. “You checked the case before you left?” Marv flinches
“Intel.” Leo leans back. “Let me tell you something useful. Not the kind they put in movies. In movies, the guy who talks fast gets the girl and the money. In real life, the guy who talks fast gets his teeth on the sidewalk.”