“Keep your voice down, you idiot. It’s supposed to be a secret.”
“So who’s to hear?” Guido protested.
“How about them?”
Shai-ster jerked his thumb toward a table of four enormous beings, alternately stuffing their faces and laughing uproariously.
“Them? That’s the Hutt brothers. They’re in here about once a week. They’re too busy with their own games to bother us.”
“Games? Are they gamblers?”
“Naw … well, except maybe Darwin. He’s the leader of the pack. But he only gambles on businesses.”
“Which one is he?”
“The thinnest one. I hear his fiancee has him on a diet. It’s making him mean, but not dangerous to us.”
Shai-ster turned back to our table.
“Well, keep your voice down anyway. How about it, Skeeve? The gambling, I mean. You’ve been here at the Bazaar before. Do you know any bookies we can get hold of?”
“Gee, the only one I know of for sure is the Geek,” I said. “He’s a pretty high-roller. If you boys are going to try to pull a fast one on him, though, don’t tell him I was the one who singled him out.”
Shai-ster gave me a broad wink.
“Gotcha. But anything we get from him, you’re in for a percentage. You know, a finder’s fee. We don’t forget our friends.”
“Gee, thanks,” I managed, feeling more than a little guilty. “Well, I’d better be going. C’mon, Gleep.”
“Gleep!” echoed my dragon, pulling his head up out of a tub of spaghetti at the sound of his name.
Fats had taken an instant liking to my pet, founded I suspect on Gleep’s newfound capacity for the maggot like stuff barely hidden by blood-red sauce that was the parlor’s mainstay.
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