Whatever Works Page #3

chess to incompetent zombies.

Checkmate, you little patzer.

Hey! He's only eight years old, Mr. Yellnikoff.

You're supposed to be teaching him...

He'll be an incompetent idiot at 58.

More important than how I make my

living, is why I bother to live at all.

Nights, I have trcuble sleeping

and hang out on Mott Street,

tcting to explain to cretins that while

a black man got into the White House

he still can't get a cab in New York.

Almost 100 years after

the abolition of slavery,

a man couldn't play a game of baseball in

the big leagues if his skin colorwas black.

You're harping on one point.

Oh, good. Okay, forget

blacks. Take Jews.

- What?

- Here we go.

Foryears they restricted the number

of Jews in schools, medical schools.

In America, as much as they hated

blacks, they hate Jews even more.

Blacks they were scared had too big a penis.

Jews they hated, even with little penises.

For God's sake, I'm eating here.

You! I've been looking foryou.

- I want to talk to you.

- Who are you?

Did you pick up a chessboard full of pieces

and hit my son with it at his lesson today?

That idiot's your son?

Do me a favor. Don't send

that cretin to me anymore.

I can't teach an

empty-headed zombie chess.

I'll have you know that

he is a very bright child.

In your opinion. In your opinion.

Which is skewed, because

he's your unfortunate issue.

So you threw a chessboard at him?

I didn't throw it at him.

I picked up the board and

dumped the pieces on his head

as an object lesson to shake

him out of his vegetable torpor.

You wait until my husband

gets back from Florida.

- What's he doing in Florida without you?

- He will punch you in the nose.

Her husband's in Fort Lauderdale.

He's probably hanging outwith

naked coeds on spring break.

He tells her it's a business trip.

Your son's an imbecile. Teach

him tiddlywinks, not chess.

You handled that beautifully, Boris.

You know, you should open the

Boris Yellnikoff Charm School.

Let's get out of here.

It's late. I'm tired.

Good night, Boris.

What? What are you doing?

Where are you going? That's it?

- Sir?

- Hey! What?

What the hell are you doing? My

God, you scared me. For God's sake!

You creep up on me like that, you

little vagrant. What do you want?

Can you help me get something to eat?

Oh, God, no, I don't carry

any money. Now, come on,

you can tell that to your

partner, wherever he's hiding.

- Please, I'm so hungry!

- Back up! Back up!

I haven't had anything to eat all

day. I think I'm going to faint.

Yeah, listen, I'm wise to

that scam, little girl, okay?

I know about professional beggar school.

Please, I'm desperate.

God, stop that! You look

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