ChuckleVision Noir

So Carpone’s goons had been looking for the guy all over town, but I had followed a trail of broken contracts, broken glass, broken vases and broken hearts to the den he was holed up in. He had a hooked nose, a bushy moustache and eyes that glittered with a cold intellect, although that could just have been the light from the bare 60 watt bulb flickering in the ceiling because in all other respects he looked like an idiot. I didn’t have time for pleasantries so I grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and slammed him against the wall.
“Where is the girl?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Don’t get smart with me, you’ve got half the city on your tail. I might be able to help but you’ve got to talk to me.”
“To you?”
“To me.”
“To you.”