Charlie was a mobster.
He stopped by on his way to the city.
Next morning he took his girlfriend, Ginger, antiquing.
They returned with a crystal punch bowl.
“It’s so beautiful…stunning craftsmanship!” my mother said, thirty times.
“Enough”, said Charlie, “If you like it that much, it’s yours.”
Now we owed him.
Why did Ruth have keep lavishing the stupid punch bowl with praise?
It wasn’t even that nice.
Now he’s going to be back when he needs something and someone’s going to have to do it.