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+%% Writing an implied scene from the Great Gatsby
+\font\twelverm=cmr10 at 12pt
+\font\twelvett=cmtt10 at 12pt
+\font\twelvebf=cmb10 at 12pt
+\twelverm\let\tt\twelvett\let\bf\twelvebf
+\centerline{\bf Rough Draft: Gatsby and Wolfsheiem's Business Arrangement}
+\baselineskip=24 pt
+\nopagenumbers
+
+``Let's get moving, old sport.''
+
+Gatsby and Wolfsheim shuffled through the back door of the Metropole, having left a decent sum on the tabletop.
+Wolfsheim hopped in the driver's seat of his black Model A and bade Gatsby towards a grey automobile %choose a car
+with a collection of street names scribbled on what would be the inside of an antique wine from 1912.
+The window rolled up and the Ford chugged away into the New York City grid.
+
+Gatsby---sitting on the cold, leathery seat---interrogated the directions received, which read:
+\bigskip\line{
+ \tt\hfil
+ \vbox{\halign{&#\cr
+ Head to the Grand Concourse\cr
+ Turn at 203rd Street towards Jerome Park\cr
+ Park at 234 East\cr
+ Walk through the second alley to the right\cr
+ Stop at Fabrizio's Drug Store\cr
+ }}
+ \hfil
+}\medskip
+In front of a young store attendant lay a hidden counter with a number of hand-filled glass vials of alcohol interspersed and disguised in medicinal containers and a glass door with a ringing bell that commenced its small song immediately as a pair of men marched through the sparely open doorway.
+
+``Hand me of them beverajs,'' Wolfsheim demanded the clerk.
+
+``I'm not sure what you're talking about. We don't sell beverages here; you can grab some cough syrup or head down the street to Wesley's for a pop.''
+
+``I know you've got stuff behind there, so just hand it over.''
+
+The clerk glanced out towards the street and made an attempt at a subtle nod towards the partially silvered windows. He leaned in and almost but not quite whispered, ``you oughtta block the windows lest a copper peers in.''
+
+Gatsby was already working on twisting the blinds partially shut---enough to make an onlooker's job difficult but insufficient to arise suspicion.
+After an unbearably long pause, a mangled hand scraped the shiny deadbolt as a ``Closed'' sign spun around and reported to the outside world that they were no longer permitted inside.
+
+A servile hand obsequiently and delicately unpacked and passed one of the slightly brown-tarnished vials over the counter.
+
+Wolfsheim gripped it heartily and, responding to a smiling nod from Gatsby, gulped down half of the dense, clear mixture.
+
+``Would you like some?''
+
+``No, thank you.''
+
+Wolfsheim gave a nondescript shrug, drank the remainder, and set an emptied bottle on the counter, but he still looked wanting.
+
+He grunted towards the register, ``Ya got much?''
+
+The clerk reached into the register and peeled out a number of tattered and dimly green five and ten dollar bills, amassing an meagre pile in Wolfsheim's outstretched hand.
+The clerk apprehended from the disappointed expression that Wolfsheim thought the amount he had been handed was insufficient and began to search the near-empty drawers for any speck of green left in the desolate grey.
+
+He gave up his search after a short amount of time, which was treated with Wolfsheim's critical, ``That's really all you have?''
+
+The clerk let out a meek ``I think so,'' and attempted to search for a remedy to the issue, availing nothing.
+
+Gatsby shook the clerk's hand, ``Thanks, old sport,'' as Wolfsheim turned towards the back exit so he could get into yet another car.
+
+After the back door had shut, Gatsby showed off a small book's worth of folded dollars and grimaced, ``I guess he thought we might not want these.''
+
+Wolfsheim took the money and muttered something about how everyone thinks they can be a con artist.
+
+They soon parted, Wolfsheim taking the cash and Gatsby taking the Ford.
+\bye