ball money shaking down fetishist in shoe stores. Hassan was charged some third degree extortion and conspiracy to impersonate a police officer. He had learnt the shakeman’s Number One rule: D.T.-Ditch Tin- which corresponds to the pilot’s KFS-Keep Flying Speed. . . As The Vigilante puts it: “If you get a rumble, kid, ditch your piece of tin if you have to swallow it.” So they didn’t bust him with a queer badge.
Hassan testified against Wilson, who drew Pen Indef.( longest term possible under New York law for a misdeanor conviction. Nominally an indefinite sentence, it means three years in Riker’s Island). Hassan’s case was nolle prossed. “I’d have drawn a nickel,” Hassan said, ” if I hadn’t met a decent cop.” Hassan met a decent cop every time he took a fall. His dossier contains three pages of monikers indicating his proclivity for cooperating with the law, “playing ball” the cops call it. Others call it something else: Ab the Fuzz Lover, Finky Marv, The Crooning Hebe, Alì the Stool, Wrongo Sal, The Wailing Spic, The Sheeny Soprano, The Bronx Opera House, The Copper’s Djinn, The Answering Service, The Squeaking Syrian, The Cooing Cocksucker, The Musical fruit, The Wrong Ass Hole, The Fairy Fink, Leary the Nark, The Lilting Leprechaun. … Grassy Gert.
He opened a sex shop in Yokohaa pushed junk in Beirut, pimpd in Panama. During the World War II he shifted into high, took over a dairy in Holland and cut the butter with used axle grease, cornered the K.Y. market in North Africa, and finally hit the jackpot with slunks. He prospered and proliferated flooding the world with cut medicines and cheap cunterfeit goods