Wearily, “Yes.” Or that was what he meant to say; it came out “Mesh.”
“Charlie,” I said. “You’ve been drinking. Care if I try? ”
“Shoot yourself.”
“Huh? Oh, you mean suit yourself. O.K., then I’ll—”
“Thass what I shaid,” Charlie said. “Suit yourshelf.”
“You did not.”
“What did I shay, then?”
I said, “You shaid—I mean said: ‘Shoot yourself.’”
Even Jove nods.
Only Jove doesn’t wear a headband like the one I still had on. Or maybe, come to think of it, he does. It would explain a lot of things.