"Heard? Heard what?"
"Boyo boyo boy! Buddy, you are in the middle of the neatest fix in history. You mean to say you don't know what's happening?"
"Fix? What kinda fix, Rabbit?... Are you kidding? I can't even get my boy a fight, and you're talking fix!"
"Aw Boyy! Awww Boyyyy are you a dummy! Lissen! Whatta you doin' out here onna Coast?"
"Doin'? I'm tryin' to set it up so I can get Tanker a fight, that's what I'm doin'!"
"You worked out a deal with some film company, huh?"
"That's right. Why?"
Rabbit Markey shot a glance to the right of him and one to the left, hunched his shoulders, pulled his trousers up, took Charlie by the lapel, and drew him close to a post. The buzzer sounded outside to announce that the race was within one minute of starting time.
"Charlie, you're about to be had. Now you're playin' it the way you was supposed to in the beginning. You was supposed to play ball with the Hollywood boys to begin with. Now you done it. Now the fix is in!"
"How the the hell can there be a goddam FIX?" screeched Charlie Jingle. "Tanker's level. Are you kiddin'?"