"Okay, pop," Luigi looks tough again, and I am plenty scared.
"Hey Luigi," I hollers, "You kin see the little guy is tellin' the
truth. He didn't do nothin'--"
Luigi turns around, and I kin see the little red specks at the corners
of his eyes. "Who says he did?" he snarls. He heads fer the open
window, reachin' in his vest fer his blood-freezer, and I kin hear him
mutterin'.
"I'm goin' after that guy Paris, and when I find him, I'm gonna turn
the blaster on and smash him right through that there space warp!
"Yeah," he hollers, standin' there framed by that window fer a minute
before he jets off, with all them millions of stars blazin' like fury
in the cleared-up Venusian night sky.
"No lousy Greek is gonna steal my girl and get away with it!"
I dunno. I ain't seen Luigi since, but I'm willin' t'wager a platterful
of Plutonian Stingers that he ain't never gonna master that there
hip-wiggle.
Not like Helen LaTour, he ain't.