I took hold of his outstretched arm and spun him around.
“What’s the matter, Jack? Don’t they make the aisles wide enough for your personality?”
He shook his arm loose and got tough. “Don’t get fancy, buster. I might loosen your jaw for you.”
“Ha, ha, ” I said. “You might play center field for the Yankees and hit a homerun with a broomstick.
He doubled his meaty fist.
“Darling, think of your manicure,” I told him.
He controlled his emotions. “Nuts to you, wise guy,” he sneered. “Some other time, when I have less on my mind.”
“Could there be less?’
“G’wan, beat it,” he snarled. “One more crack and you’ll need new bridgework.”
I grinned at him. “Call me up, Jack. But with better dialogue.”
The Long Goodbye by Raymond Chandler