Big Shot - Bonzo Dog Band

I am the Big Shot

You heard me right the first time.

Name of batchelor Johnny Cool.

Occupation: Big Shot.

Occupation at the moment: just having fun.

What a party that was — the drinks were loaded and so were the dolls

I narrowed my eyes and poured a stiff Manhattan.

Then I saw… Hotsie.

What a dame.

A big, bountiful babe in the region of 48−23−38.

One hell of a

region.

She had the hottest lips since Hiroshima: I had to stand back for fear

of being burned.

Whiskey wow wow.

I breathed.

She was dressed as before the bed.

In that kind of outfit she could get rolled at night… and I don’t mean on a

crap table

It’s kind of revealing, isn’t it?

Revealing?

It’s positively risqu — I like it.

She said: «You're a man with a thousand Gs, right?»

«A thousand what?»

I quipped.

«G-men, girls, guns, guts.»

«You're my type.»

«Wrong, baby» I slapped her hard.

«I'm a `L' man: strictly liquor,

love and laughs.»

She stared over my shoulder: «Play it cool, Johnny.»

Play it what?

I flipped.

«Listen, I fought my way up from tough East Side New York.

Lead-filled saps

and sub-machine guns, like this.»

She said: «Johnny, this is a deadly game, have a few laughs and go home.

«I shuddered.

Normally I pack a rod in pyjamas — I carry nothing but scars

from Normandy beach.

I said «Wrong, baby, you can’t fool me.»

She spat

playfully.

«I'm ahead of you, Johnny.»

I studied the swell of her enormous

boobs and said: «Baby, you’re so far ahead it’s beautiful.»

«You, you are, you are eccentric, I like that.»

«Electric cheri, bounce off my rocket, tout comprende?»

We spoke French

fluently.

Our lips met again and again.

«Yeah, yeah yeah» I slobbered.

Hotsie said: «You're slobbering all over the seat, kid.»

I went home late.

Very late.

What could I say to m