“I need my money,” Micah intoned flatly as he shoved another bouncer over the bar.

Benoit tried to push himself farther into the cushions of the booth, “I-it’s not that simple, big guy. You know I’d love to, but, well, you’ve seen It’s a Wonderful Life, right? Your money is in Crazy Earl’s strip club, and his money is in Ashy Larry’s dice game.”

Micah stiff-armed another bouncer in the throat and kicked him over while he gagged, “I need my money.”

“Y-ya know, to be fair,” Benoit stammered, his throat bulging like a frog in heat as he took nervous gulps of air, “Not a soul in this town thought you’d ever be back, not after that night.”

“I need my money.” No more bouncers came to Benoit’s aid, and Micah brought his considerable hands to rest on the table.

“Okay, okay,” came the reassuring response as Benoit reached his right hand into his gold lamé jacket. Micah cocked an eyebrow, and the weasel switched hands to retrieve a wad of bills with left hand.

Micah left singing, “Money, it’s a crime…”