I tilt my head at the bathroom.

– Toilet tank.

He smiles.

– I tell ya what. You got a half kilo in the shitter there, and this might turn out to be your lucky day after all.

He puts a finger under my chin and tilts my head up so he can look into my eyes.

– You get me, hoss?

Great. Better and better. A dirty cop. And I have such a good track record with dirty cops.

– Yeah. I get you.

He drops his finger from my chin.

– But you fuck with me, hoss?

He slaps me lightly on the cheek.

– And I’m gonna school you. Get me?

– Yeah. I get you.

He gestures for me to lead the way to the bathroom.

– So why the sad face? Let’s get happy.

I slouch past him to the open door of the bathroom. He stands close behind me, blowing smoke over my shoulder.

– You go ahead and take the lid off, but don’t you go reaching in there or anything. Just take that lid off and step to the side.

I nod, lift the lid from the tank and step to the side. He points at the lid.

– Set that on the floor there.

I set the heavy lid on the floor.

– There ya go. Ain’t no one wants to get whacked with one of those mothers. Now step on back.

I take a step back toward the shower. He shakes a finger at me, winks and looks into the tank. He glances at me, looks in the tank again, and crooks a finger.

– Come here for a sec, hoss. Got something to show you.

I step over for a sec, knowing what I’m gonna see, and look into the tank that’s empty except for the standard hardware. I start to open my mouth and he grabs me by the back of the neck and slams my face into the mirror. I’m lucky today, it doesn’t break.

– What the fuck, hoss? You messin’ with me? You fuckin’ with the law?

He presses my face harder into the mirror. My luck may be wearing out.