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Mr. Harvey double-checked his ticket against the sign over the register: 32-21-18-54-10-37. Oh boy! “You owe me eighty million dollars,” the lovable old schmendrick told the pretty cashier. She snapped her gum and took the ticket. “Mr. Harvey, you’ve written in every single number,” she said. "Now look here," the moribund chamoole sputtered, "My ticket has the winning numbers!" “They're written in pencil." And indeed, a chewed-up orange nub was lodged behind Mr. Harvey's smelly-looking ear. The little nebbish's spirits sank. “And this ticket's almost two years old,” the girl added. A sly look momentarily animated Mr. Harvey's limp, gray face. “I’ll take the lump sum payment of forty million if that’ll speed things up any,” the irrepressible schlemiel persisted, glancing unconvincingly at his pharmacy-purchased digital watch.
Date Written: October 25, 2005
Average Vote: 3.5