#penny santon

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Love with the Proper Stranger (1963) Robert Mulligan

March 3rd 2024

#love with the proper stranger #1963 #robert mulligan #natalie wood #steve mcqueen #herschel bernardi #edie adams #penny santon #tom bosley

[kwebtv]

Character Actress

Pierina Burlando (September 2, 1916 – May 12, 1999) was an American film, stage and television actress known professionally as Penny Santon or Penny Stanton.  She was known for playing the role of "Mama Rosa Novelli" in the American crime drama television series Matt Houston.  (Wikipedia)

From 1952 to 1998 she made appearances in over 100 TV Series:

IMdB Listing

#Character Actress #TV #Penny Santon #Penny Stanton #Matt Huston #Don't Call Me Charlie #Life Goes On

[movieassholes]

I imagine you’re expecting a nice gratuity, right? Maybe next time.

Ted Underhill - Fletch (1985)

#fletch #william traylor #chevy chase #penny santon #michael ritchie #stuck up jerk #country club #water buffalo #no tip #class of 1985

[badgaymovies]

Full Of Life (1956)

Full Of Life (1956)

RICHARD QUINE Bil’s rating (out of 5): BBB USA, 1956. Columbia Pictures. Screenplay by John Fante, based on his novel. Cinematography by Charles Lawton Jr.. Produced by Fred Kohlmar. Music by George Duning. Production Design by William Flannery. Costume Design by Ed Ware. Film Editing by Charles Nelson. It’s a very rare sight to see in the mid-fifties, a studio film concerned with the…

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#Arthur Lovejoy #Charles Lawton Jr. #Charles Nelson #Columbia Pictures #Ed Ware #Eleanor Audley #Esther Minciotti #Fred Kohlmar #George Duning #Joe De Santis #John Fante #Judy Holliday #Penny Santon #Richard Conte #Salvatore Baccaloni #Sam Gilman #Silvio Minciotti #Trudy Marshall #Walter Conrad #William Flannery

[westsidestoryismylife-blog]

West Side Story is set in the mid 1950's, when many Puerto Ricans moved to NYC. The Jets are from Manhattan. They have ruled their "turf" for years, after defeating the Emeralds. The Sharks are from Puerto Rico. They have just recently come to NY, and want a "turf" of their own.

Who wrote West Side Story:

West Side Story is based on a conception by Jerome Robbins. Book by Arthur Laurents Lyrics by Stephen Sondheim Music by Leonard Bernstein Entire Original Production Directed and Choreographed by Jerome Robbins Orchestrations by Leonard Bernstein with Sid Ramin and Irwin Kostal Film Version: Directed by: Robert Wise & Jerome Robbins Screenplay: Ernest Lehman Choreography: Jerome Robbins

When was West Side Story written:

Jerome Robbins' proposed the idea for writing a musical based on Romeo and Juliet to Leonard Bernstein in January of 1949 (working title: East Side Story, set in the slums at the coincidence of Easter-Passover celebrations). In August of 1955, a meeting with Arthur Laurents produced another idea -- two teen-age gangs as the warring factions, one of them newly-arrived Puerto Ricans, the other self-styled "Americans." In November, 1955 Stephen Sondheim joined the project as lyricist. A year and a half later, rehearsals began for the Broadway premiere of West Side Story.

DIRECTED BY

Jerome Robbins

Robert Wise

WRITING CREDITS  

Lehman ...(screenplay)

Arthur Laurents ...(book)

Jerome Robbins ...(play)

William Shakespeare ...(play) (uncredited)

CAST (IN CREDITS ORDER) 

Natalie Wood ... Maria

Richard Beymer ... Tony

Russ Tamblyn ... Riff

Rita Moreno ... Anita

George Chakiris ... Bernardo

Simon Oakland ... Schrank

Ned Glass ... Doc

William Bramley ... Krupke

Tucker Smith ... Ice

Tony Mordente ... Action

David Winters ... A-rab

Eliot Feld ... Baby John

Bert Michaels ... Snowboy

David Bean ... Tiger

Robert Banas ... Joyboy

Anthony 'Scooter' Teague ... Big Deal (as Scooter Teague)

Harvey Evans ... Mouthpiece (as Harvey Hohnecker)

Tommy Abbott ... Gee-Tar

Susan Oakes ... Anybodys

Gina Trikonis ... Graziella

Carole D'Andrea ... Velma

Jose De Vega ... Chino

Jay Norman ... Pepe

Gus Trikonis ... Indio

Eddie Verso ... Juano

Jaime Rogers ... Loco

Larry Roquemore ... Rocco

Robert E. Thompson ... Luis (as Robert Thompson)

Nick Navarro ... Toro (as Nick Covacevich)

Rudy Del Campo ... Del Campo

Andre Tayir ... Chile

Yvonne Wilder ... Consuelo (as Yvonne Othon)

Suzie Kaye ... Rosalia

Joanne Miya ... Francisca

REST OF CAST LISTED ALPHABETICALLY:

John Astin ... Glad Hand (uncredited)

Francesca Bellini ... Debby, Snowboy's Girlfriend (uncredited)

Elaine Joyce ... Hotsie, Tiger's Girlfriend (uncredited)

Priscilla Lopez ... Child Extra (uncredited)

Marni Nixon ... Playback vocalist for Natalie Wood (uncredited)

Olivia Perez ... Margarita, Rocco's Girlfriend (uncredited)

Lou Ruggiero ... Police Officer #3 (uncredited)

Penny Santon ... Madam Lucia (uncredited)

Luci Stone ... Estella, Loco's Girlfriend (uncredited)

Pat Tribble ... Minnie, Baby John's Girlfriend (uncredited)

Gary Troy ... Dancer (uncredited)

Produced by Saul Chaplin ...associate producer

Walter Mirisch ...executive producer (uncredited)

Robert Wise ...producer (uncredited)

MUSIC BY

Leonard Bernstein

Irwin Kostal ...(uncredited)

CINEMATOGRAPHY BY

Daniel L. Fapp ...director of photography

FILM EDITING BY

Thomas Stanford ...film editor

PRODUCTION DESIGN BY

Boris Leven ...(production designed by)

SET DECORATION BY

Victor A. Gangelin ...(as Victor Gangelin)

COSTUME DESIGN BY

Irene Sharaff ...(costume designed by)

MAKEUP DEPARTMENT

Emile LaVigne ...makeup (as Emile La Vigne)

Alice Monte ...hairdresser

PRODUCTION MANAGEMENT

Allen K. Wood ...production manager

Hubert Fröhlich ...production manager (uncredited)

SECOND UNIT DIRECTOR OR ASSISTANT DIRECTOR

Robert E. Relyea ...assistant director

Jerome M. Siegel ...second assistant director

Ridgeway Callow ...assistant director (uncredited)

ART DEPARTMENT

Sam Gordon ...property

Maurice Zuberano ...production artist (as M. Zuberano)

Leon Harris ...production illustrator (uncredited)

William Maldonado ...construction coordinator (uncredited)

SOUND DEPARTMENT

Fred Lau ...sound

Gilbert D. Marchant ...sound editor

Murray Spivack ...sound

Vinton Vernon ...sound

Richard Gramaglia ...sound mixer (uncredited)

Fred Hynes ...sound recording supervisor (uncredited)

Gordon Sawyer ...sound supervisor (uncredited)

VISUAL EFFECTS BY

Saul Bass ...visual consultant

Linwood G. Dunn ...photographic effects (as Linwood Dunn)

STUNTS

Eli Bo Jack Blackfeather ...stunts (uncredited)

CAMERA AND ELECTRICAL DEPARTMENT

Linwood G. Dunn ...title photographer (uncredited)

John Finger ...camera operator: title sequence (uncredited)

Ernst Haas ...still photographer (uncredited)

Jerome H. Klein ...electrician (uncredited)

Louis Kulsey ...dolly grip: title sequence (uncredited)

Tom May ...grip (uncredited)

Phil Stern ...still photographer (uncredited)

COSTUME AND WARDROBE DEPARTMENT

Bert Henrikson ...wardrobe

Editorial Department 

Marshall M. Borden ...assistant editor

MUSIC DEPARTMENT

Leonard Bernstein ...music by

Richard Carruth ...music editor

Saul Chaplin ...musical supervisor

Johnny Green ...music conductor / musical supervisor

Irwin Kostal ...musical supervisor / orchestrator

Sid Ramin ...musical supervisor / orchestrator

Stephen Sondheim ...lyrics by

Robert Tucker ... vocal coach (as Bobby Tucker)

Betty Walberg ...musical assistant

Pete Candoli ...musician (uncredited)

Jack Dumont ...musician: saxophone (uncredited)

Walter A. Gest ...production music playback operator (uncredited)

Shelly Manne ...musician (uncredited)

Red Mitchell ...musician (uncredited)

Uan Rasey ...musician: trumpet soloist (uncredited)

Albert T. Viola ...musician (uncredited)

OTHER CREW

Tommy Abbott ...dance assistant

Margaret Banks ...dance assistant

Saul Bass ...titles

Robert E. Griffith ...based upon the play produced on the stage by

Howard Jeffrey ...dance assistant

Tony Mordente ...dance assistant

Harold Prince ...based upon the play produced on the stage by (as Harold S. Prince)

Jerome Robbins ...choreography by / stage play: director / stage play: orchestrator

Stanley Scheuer ...script supervisor (as Stanley K. Scheuer)

Roger L. Stevens ...by arrangement with

Hal Bell ...assistant choreographer (uncredited)

Jimmy Bryant ...singing voice: Tony (uncredited)

Kit Culkin ...dancer (uncredited)

John Flynn ...script supervisor (uncredited)

Gerald Freedman ...assistant: Mr. Robbins (uncredited)

Peter Gennaro ...co-choreographer (uncredited)

Maria Henley ...Shark dancer Teresita (uncredited)

Eliot Hyman ...production executive (uncredited)

Howard Jeffrey ...assistant choreographer: Mr. Robbins (uncredited)

Elaine Joyce ...dancer (uncredited)

George Lake ...assistant stage manager: stage production (uncredited)

Harold Mirisch ...production executive (uncredited)

Marvin Mirisch ...production executive (uncredited)

Howard Newman ...press representative (uncredited)

Arthur Rubin ...assistant stage manager: stage production (uncredited)

Wallace Siebert ...assistant: Mr. Gennaro (uncredited)

Ray Stark ...production executive (uncredited)

Lee Theodore ...assistant choreographer (uncredited) / dancer (uncredited)

Roxanne Tunis ...dancer (uncredited)

Betty Wand ...singing voice: Anita - "A Boy Like That/I Have a Love" (uncredited)

The Academy Award for Best Picture of 1961 went to the movie version of WSS. It earned a total of ten Oscars. Although Bernstein did not suffer the indignity of the mayhem perpetrated on his score in the movie of On The Town, the movie of WSS did make some minor alterations. I Feel Pretty was transferred to an earlier scene, the bridal shop. The location of Gee, Officer Krupke was interchanged with Cool. Sondheim also wrote new lyrics for America, performed by all the Sharks and their girls (in the stage version it is presented by four girls only).

These changes were judged to be necessary to sustain an on-rushing sense of doom. After all, the movie was not interrupted by an intermission during which an audience could recover form the devastation wrought by the danced Rumble. On stage, the bubbly I Feel Pretty, at the beginning of Act II, was a kind of extension of intermission babble. Good theater, but not good movie.

Despite this film being an update of Shakespeare's "Romeo & Juliet", one of, if not the most famous element from that story is different here, in that both of the leads do not die at the end. Tony dies, but Maria survives.

Timeline: The process of the movie

6 JANUARY 1949

New York, NY

Jerome Robbins sets the West Side Story concept in motion.

25 AUGUST 1955

Beverly Hills, CA

A meeting with Arthur Laurents produces another idea: two teen-age gangs as the warring factions, one of them newly-arrived Puerto Ricans, the other self-styled "Americans."

14 NOVEMBER 1955 "A young lyricist named Stephen Sondheim came and sang us some of his songs today. What a talent! I think he's ideal for this project, as do we all. The collaboration grows."

-Leonard Bernstein

8 JULY 1957

New York, NY

Rehearsals begin.

20 AUGUST 1957

Washington D.C.

West Side Story opens in Washington D.C.

26 SEPTEMBER 1957

New York, NY

West Side Story opens on Broadway at the Winter Garden Theatre, runs for 732 performances.

1957

Original Broadway Cast Recording 

13 APRIL 1958

Tony Awards

Best Choreographer (Jerome Robbins)

Best Scenic Designer (Oliver Smith)

18 OCTOBER 1961

United Artists motion picture released:

Directed by Robert Wise and Jerome Robbins

Starring Natalie Wood, Richard Beymer, Russ Tamblyn, Rita Moreno, and George Chakiris

1961

Film Soundtrack Recording

Reviews and Articles of West Side Story

THE NEW YORK TIMES 

27 September 1957

Theatre: "West Side Story," The Jungles of the City

By BROOKS ATKINSON

Although the material is horrifying, the workmanship is admirable.

Gang warfare is the material of "West Side Story," which opened at the Winter Garden last evening, and very little of the hideousness has been left out. But the author, composer and ballet designer are creative artists. Pooling imagination and virtuosity, they have written a profoundly moving show that is as ugly as the city jungles and also pathetic, tender and forgiving.

Arthur Laurents has written the story of two hostile teen-age gangs fighting for supremacy amid the tenement houses, corner stores and bridges of the West Side. The story is a powerful one, partly, no doubt, because Mr. Laurents has deliberately given it the shape of "Romeo and Juliet." In the design of "West Side Story" he has powerful allies. Leonard Bernstein has composed another one of his nervous, flaring scores that capture the shrill beat of life in the streets. And Jerome Robbins, who has directed the production, is also its choreographer.

Since the characters are kids of the streets, their speech is curt and jeering. Mr. Laurents has provided the raw material of a tragedy that occurs because none of the young people involved understands what is happening to them. And his contribution is the essential one. But it is Mr. Bernstein and Mr. Robbins who orchestrate it. Using music and movement they have given Mr. Laurents' story passion and depth and some glimpses of unattainable glory. They have pitched into it with personal conviction as well as the skill of accomplished craftsmen.

In its early scenes of gang skirmishes, "West Side Story" is facile and a little forbidding -- the shrill music and the taut dancing movement being harsh and sinister. But once Tony of the Jets gang sees Maria of the Sharks gang, the magic of an immortal story takes hold. As Tony, Larry Kert is perfectly cast, plain in speech and manner; and as Maria, Carol Lawrence, maidenly soft and glowing, is perfectly cast also. Their balcony scene on the firescape of a dreary tenement is tender and affecting. From that moment on, "West Side Story" is an incandescent piece of work that finds odd bits of beauty amid the rubbish of the streets.

Everything in "West Side Story," is of a piece. Everything contributes to the total impression of wildness, ecstasy and anguish. The astringent score has moments of tranquility and rapture, and occasionally a touch of sardonic humor. And the ballets convey the things that Mr. Laurents is inhibited from saying because the characters are so inarticulate. The hostility and suspicion between the gangs, the glory of the nuptials, the terror of the rumble, the devastating climax -- Mr. Robbins has found the patterns of movement that express these parts of the story.

Most of the characters, in fact, are dancers with some images of personality lifted out of the whirlwind -- characters sketched on the wing. Like everything also in "West Side Story," they are admirable. Chita Rivera in a part equivalent to the nurse in the Shakespeare play; Ken Le Roy as leader of The Sharks; Mickey Calin as leader of The Jets; Lee Becker as a hobbledehoy girl in one gang -- give terse and vigorous performances.

Everything in "West Side Story" blends -- the scenery by Oliver Smith, the costumes by Irene Sharaff, the lighting by Jean Rosenthal. For this is one of those occasions when theatre people, engrossed in an original project, are all in top form. The subject is not beautiful. But what "West Side Story" draws out of it is beautiful. For it has a searching point of view.

THE DAILY NEWS

27 September 1957

(Originally published by the Daily News on September 27, 1957. This story was written by John Chapman.)

‘West Side Story’ premieres on Broadway in 1957

BY JOHN CHAPMAN

The American theatre took a venturesome forward step when the firm of Griffith & Prince presented "West Side Story" at the Winter Garden last evening.

This is a bold new kind of musical theatre - a juke-box Manhattan opera. It is, to me, extraordinarily exciting. In it, the various fine skills of show business are put to new tests, and as a result a different kind of musical has emerged.

The story is, roughly, Shakespeare's recounting of the love and deaths of Romeo and Juliet. But the setting is today's Manhattan, and the manner of telling the story is a provocative and artful blend of music, dance and plot - and the music and the dancing are superb.

Superb Score

In this present-day version of the theatre's greatest romance, the Montagus and Capulets become young New York gangs, one white, the other Puerto Rican. The Romeo is a white boy, the Juliet a Puerto Rican girl. In the big fight switch-blade knives are used instead of swords. The apothecary who gave Romeo his fateful potion now is a mild druggist who mans his soda fountain and wonders what the younger generation is coming to. And the younger generation, even if it does indulge in one rumble which results in murder, is not nearly as blackhearted as current news stories might make us believe.

The music of "West Side Story" is by Leonard Bernstein, and it is superb - and splendidly played by an orchestra directed by Max Goberman. In it there is the drive, the bounce, the restlessness and the sweetness of our town. It takes up the American musical idiom where it was left when George Gershwin died. It is fascinatingly tricky and melodically beguiling, and it marks the progression of admirable composer.

The story, about the fundamentally innocent hoodlums of our town, is by Arthur Laurents, and it is a lovely and moving one. But Laurents is not alone in telling this story, for his collaborator is Jerome Robbins, the choreographer. Robbins and his superb young dancers carry the plot as much as the spoken words and lyrics do.

The lyrics, by Stephen Sondheim, have simple grace, and there is a lovely tribute by the sidewalk Romeo to his dusky girl, Maria. There is a really beautiful scene in which the boy and the girl go through a make believe wedding in a shop for bridal clothing. And there is an uproariously funny one in which a so-called juvenile delinquent gets a going-over by all the authorities whose problem he is - the cop, the judge, the social worker and the psychiatrist. This young hoodlum manages to make his elders look pretty silly.

Wonderful Cast

The cast of "West Side Story" is, next to the music, the best part of the production. It is composed of young people of whom few have been heard. Carol Lawrence and Larry Kert carry the love story with effortless simplicity, and they sing beautifully. There are other engaging performances by Chita Rivera, Mickey Calin, Ken Le Roy and Art Smith (the druggist). But the company itself is the star of the show. These boys and girls sing, dance and act with such skill and sincerity that they bring the audience out of its seats and up on the stage with them - and the stage is not a stage but this fascinating and fearful town of Manhattan.

And the settings by Oliver Smith and the costumes by Irene Sharaff are a perfect part of a perfect production.

NEW YORK HERALD TRIBUNE

27 September 1957

New York Herald Tribune, 9/27/57

Theater critic Walter Kerr wrote the following review of West Side Story for the New York Herald Tribune on September 27, 1957: The radioactive fallout from "West Side Story" must still be descending on Broadway this morning. Director, choreographer, and idea-man Jerome Robbins has put together, and then blasted apart, the most savage, restless, electrifying dance patterns we've been exposed to in a dozen seasons. The curtain rises on a silence, and a pause. It is the last silence and the last pause. Against an empty-eyed background of warehouse windows five or six blue-jacketed young delinquents, with the tribal-mark "Jets" scrawled across their taut shoulders, are lounging, waiting for the first faint whisper of violence. Their impatience comes to life in their fingers. A snapping rhythm begins to tap out a warning of mayhem to come. Knees begin to itch, and move, under the lazy, overcast mid-summer sky in Puerto-Rican New York. The Sharks--equally young, equally sick with very old hatreds--appear from the alleyways in twos and threes. There is a sneer, a hiss, a tempting and tantalizing thrust of an arm, and then--with a powerhouse downbeat from the orchestra pit--the sorry and meaningless frenzy is on. From this moment the show rides with a catastrophic roar over the spider-web fire-escapes, the shadowed trestles, and the plain dirt battlegrounds of a big city feud. Mr. Robbins never runs out of his original explosive life-force. Though the essential images are always the same--two spitting groups of people advancing with bared teeth and clawed fists upon one another--there is fresh excitement in the next debacle, and the next. When a gang leader advises his cohorts to play it "Cool," the intolerable tension between and effort at control and the instinctive drives of these potential killers is stingingly graphic. When the knives come out, and bodies begin to fly wildly through space under buttermilk clouds, the sheer visual excitement is breathtaking. .[Robbins] has almost sacrificially assisted in this macabre and murderous onslaught of movement by composer Leonard Bernstein. Mr. Bernstein has permitted himself a few moments of graceful, lingering melody: in a yearning "Maria," in the hushed falling line of "Tonight," in the wistful declaration of "I Have a Love." But for the most part he has served the needs of the onstage threshing machine, setting the fierce beat that fuses a gymnasium dance, putting a mocking insistence behind taunts at a policeman, dramatizing the footwork rather than lifting emotions into song. When hero Larry Kert is stomping out the visionary insistence of "Something's Coming" both music and tumultuous story are given their due. Otherwise it's the danced narrative that takes urgent precedence.

A Clip of a full description of the film and the actors thought on the film:

[movies-derekwinnert]

Dino *** (1957, Sal Mineo, Brian Keith, Susan Kohner, Pat DeSimone, Frank Faylen, Joe De Santis, Penny Santon, Richard Bakalyan) - Classic Movie Review 9854

Dino *** (1957, Sal Mineo, Brian Keith, Susan Kohner, Pat DeSimone, Frank Faylen, Joe De Santis, Penny Santon, Richard Bakalyan) – Classic Movie Review 9854

Dino lobby card.

Director Thomas Carr’s 1957 drama Dino stars Sal Mineo, who does his juvenile delinquent turn again (and very well too) in a solid, rather touching little drama based on script-writer Reginald Rose’s own TV play about a boy called Dino Minetta, who cannot reform after jail. Then his kid brother Tony Minetta (Pat DeSimone) asks him to join his robbery.

Brian Keith also stars as…

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[saturdaynightmatinee]

CALIFICACIÓN PERSONAL: 6 / 10

Título Original: Short Circuit

Año: 1986

Duración: 95 min.

País: Estados Unidos

Director: John Badham

Guion: S.S. Wilson, Brent Maddock, Jay Tarses

Música: David Shire

Fotografía: Nick McLean

Reparto: Steve Guttenberg, Ally Sheedy, Fisher Stevens, Austin Pendleton, G.W. Bailey,Brian McNamara, Marvin J. McIntyre, John Garber, Penny Santon, Vernon Weddle,Barbara Tarbuck, Tom Lawrence, Fred Slyter, Billy Ray Sharkey, Robert Krantz,Jan Speck, Marguerite Happy, Howard Krick, Marjorie Card Hughes, Herb Smith,Jack Thompson, William Striglos, Mary Reckley, Shay McLean, Eleanor C. Heutschy

Productora: TriStar Pictures / Producers Sales Organization / Turman-Foster Company

Género: Comedy, Family, Sci-Fi

https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0091949

TRAILER: 

[main-kahuna]

((Art done by the wonderful Nano Colors: Link)) If a day could get worse Brian sure hoped he’d never live to see it. He sighed and pushed the hair from his eyes.  It was time for a trim. Something else he’d planned to do before things got hairy. It was always the fault of those damned detectives. Brian’s shoes tapped against the concrete as he waked through the main room of the rings. The fights were over and the bodies from the death matches had already been drug away. It was the first time he’d missed one of his matches in over twenty years.

The red of the brick walls hid the blood spatters, though they still shimmered in the lanterns dusky yellow glow. Another reminder of the fun and profits that had gone on without him. Just like the job would. Brian’s lip raised in a silent snarl.  He shook his head to clear his thoughts. He paused to inspect the red hue of the dirt that made the floor of the ring. It was almost soggy with the stuff. A smile replaced his expression. The fishes would be eating good for sure. It was hard work balancing the fights, booze, and Santones day after day. Men were hard to find, and keeping other gangs off his turf was beginning to be more trouble than it was worth.  The Santones were always sending him letters when they’d hear about any red haired ninny who made the news. Telegram was too risky. Every time he’d have to reply, scratching out the same words he had for the last ten years. “Still in the ground.”   The thick brick walls of the underground were always a welcomed sight after coming back from the city. Nine barrels of moonshine made a pretty penny, but not enough.  Brian absentmindedly wondered if he could sell some to the shining solitaire lounge as he unlocked his door. He’d have sold more if it wasn’t for Ryan sitting on the hood of his car taking a smoke. The bastard and co were probably drinking the other six at the very moment. At least Brian was welcomed with a heavenly sight when his door opened. The night’s earnings were piled high on his desk in the center of the room, and only grew as Brian pulled three huge wads of cash from his pocket. It was a dark office, lit by the only real window the cesspit of a business had. Furniture was scarce, a couch pulled from a house he’d destroyed sat quietly against a far wall. A few pictures hung as well. Moonlight filtered in, casting long shadows onto Brian’s prized possession. An old oak record player, with a polished horn he could see his reflection in. His fingers brushed against the record. The man in the copper mirror looked tired. Brian reached up to touch his hair. It was definitely time for a trim. Brian didn’t bother turning it on. Even though the music would be a wonderful distraction, he had work to do. The creaky chair at his desk was as uncomfortable as the numbers in front of him. Sure the pile of dough would make any lawful citizen weep but Brian was a businessman, and every businessman knew it took money to make money. Brian picked up his pen. “Seven divided by two…” he mumbled as numbers scratched themselves to life on the page. They were crossed out, mutilated by minuses, persecuted by percentages, desecrated by decimals.  His grip tightened. Seven men slaughtered, fourteen fit to be fought. Six in sickbay--- and one who needed to be taught to knock. Brian closed his eyes and held back a snippy greeting. It wouldn’t do to run off his excuse to forget about numbers for a while. Suddenly the idea of a break didn’t seem so bad. He continued to scribble on the edges of his notes as he waited for the intruder to speak. The corner of his eyes caught movement that he chose to ignore. One of the fighters closed the door with a click. Brian instantly caught the whiff of sweat and dust from the ring. He sighed inwardly. That’s right, he needed to get the showers repaired. Another thing he forgot. Callahan let himself in and took a seat in front of his desk. Brian wasn’t sure if it was confidence, bravado, or plain stupidity. Usually the bastard would have the decency to be frightened. That was, unless he wanted something. Brian smiled and scooted back his chair before dropping his boots straight onto his desk. He leaned back and popped open his desk drawer and lit a smoke.   Brian hummed as Callahan waited for him to speak. There was the fighter he knew. “Who’s afraid of the big bad Wulf~?” Brian sang under his breath. Smoke poured over his lips and drifted over towards Callahan who forced a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. One was black and blue and the other side wasn’t much better. Wulf was only good at two things, singing and killing. He knew it too, and for the last three fights had tried to convince him to strike a deal. “Four dead fighters,” Callahan answered. “Two from knives, one from blunt force, and the other from choking on his own vomit.” Brain laughed. “Damn! No wonder there’s so much dough!” He pulled out another cigar and handed it to the Wulf. “There’s your reward, and hey it’s your brand!” Wulf raised a brow as he accepted the “gift” hesitantly. Brain gave it a small shake to hurry him up. Couldn’t blame the bastard too much. After all half the gifts were usually drugged or an extra hour in the rings “Huff ‘N Puffs! Get it? The big bad Wolf?” Callahan blinked and gave him a look. Brian frowned and slapped at the air. “To hell with it, can’t even crack a joke. Don’t know why I bother, you’re too stupid to understand ‘em anyways.” He shrugged to himself “Then again who wouldn’t be after all that head-butting and shit.” Wulf didn’t fall for the bait and silenced himself with the cigar. Brian took note of the soured squint. He chuckled and tapped his lighter against the corner of his desk. It was just about empty, probably running on fumes. “Woops.” He grinned as it slipped from his fingers – just as Cal had made a move to borrow it. The lighter fell straight to the ground-and through the open floor vent. Brian grinned as Wulf’s eyes only squinted more. It was safe to say the papers were abandoned as Brian started the game. “Say, I was thinkin’… the Silvers aren’t making much anymore, and for once I can’t blame you assholes for rushing the fights.” Callahan’s squint suddenly ended as his brows rose. The poor bastard actually thought he was serious?  “Yeah, the booze is helping and all, but we need something else. Something…” Brian waved his hand in the air, “bigger, makes people come in and stay a spell, spend their cash, wash down some moonshine.”   Brain leaned back in his chair and threaded his fingers together onto of his stomach. “Not showgirls,” he thought out loud. “Everyone’s got those…. hmm…” He gave Wulf a glance over. Even covered in bruises, cuts, and scrapes he looked good enough to bend over a table. Not that Brian would, he wasn’t stupid, the dog would bite his throat out the moment he’d reach over the table. “You got any ideas Wulf?” Cal opened his mouth to speak, and almost dropped the cigar. Brian laughed as he scrambled to catch it and stashed it away for later. How the hell he’d light it Brian didn’t bother thinking about. Wulf was creative, in the ring and out. If nothing else he’d probably steal one from another fighter. Brian shrugged, scowling as his brows pressed together. “Well? You going to be useful or just sit there all night?” It was hard not to grin. He leaned forward menacingly. The shadows of the room only heightened the glare of his eyes. He knew it’d terrify the dog. Another fine hobby of his. “Fine just go and waste my time, I’ll just call Johnson to come get you—“ “No!” Wulf barked. He sunk into the chair as the boss snarled down at him. He knew full well what Brian would do when he was mad. A few of the knives were already sitting on his desk, gleaming with intent. “What did you say? You just tell me what to do Callahan?” Brian’s hand inched closer to the blades. “No sir, just-I know how you can bring in more cash. It’ll work too!” Brian plopped back down in his chair. It squawked in protest. “Well why didn’t you say so!” he beamed. “Come on then, let Snyder see what you got.” Callahan nervously glanced towards the record player. “Ooh, that’s what you meant…” Brian nodded as he thought it over. “Well…I guess, maybe plaster you on a few signs and see how it goes. Guess I’d have to pull you from the ring too, can’t get killed before a show. I know they say break a leg but that’d just be pathetic.” Brian chuckled at his own joke. “Blue’s won’t bring nobody though kid. You got anything else?” Callahan nodded and swallowed. He stood, pushing the chair away from the desk as he walked towards the window. The moonlight made a spotlight it seemed as it washed over him. Brian took in another sweet puff of his cigar. Santones were lookers and Callahan was a hell of a pedigree. He watched as Callahan’s fingers lifted the needle of the record player. When he finally put it back a new sound drifted through the room. It blocked out the muffled sound of the men below. Brian smiled behind the cigar. He knew this one, one of his favorites. The Wulf knew it too. He leaned back yet again and watched the show. Callahan gave him a worried glance that he waved off. He wouldn’t take insult to the lyrics. This time. Wulf closed his eyes and hummed along with the first few keys. His hand tapped on his hip as he found the rhythm.  It was almost like he was playing the keys of the piano himself. “You made plenty money, 1922,” he started sweetly, voice quiet as he found his footing. “You let other rich men make a fool of you” “Why don't you do right, like some other guys do” Callahan’s head went back as the words drifted sweetly from his lips. His tapping fingers began to snap instead as he took a step towards the desk. Brian never was bored at these little shows the dog would howl for him. Callahan opened an eye and smiled at the boss with a wink. “Lets get out of here, I’ll make some money for you” Callahan took a few more, using the music to guide his movements as he sauntered up. He leaned against the desk with his hip as his hand sneaked out to touch the money. His fingers walked across the bills with his next line.

“You're sittin' there and wonderin' what it's all about” “If you ain't got no money, they will put you out” “Why don't you do right, like some other guys do?” Cal’s hand walked its way towards Brian as he sat on the edge of the desk. Brian eyed him. This was a first. Not that he was complaining. Much nicer change from the pleading. “Lets get out of here I’ll make some money for you

“Now if you had prepared twenty years ago” “You wouldn't be wanderin' now from door to door” “Why don't you do right, like some other guys do?” “Let’s get out of here I got some money for you” Brian sat back up in his chair as Wulf leaned over more. He grinned, wondering just how far he’d take his show. Callahan took a hold of his tie and threated it through his fingers before giving a tug. “Let’s get out of here,” he sang as he pulled. Brian all but purred at the sudden change.  Wulf leaned even close, and put his lips to his ear. “I’ll get some money for you” Brian frowned as Callahan suddenly let go of his tie. He sat back in his seat and watched as Wulf pulled away to perch back on the edge.

“Why don't you do right, like some other guys do” Brian closed his eyes happily at the last note. He knew how to hit a pitch like he did a man with a bat.  “Damn,” he sighed, “That could work.” Wulf smiled nervously. The sudden bravado from his show long gone. “You think so boss?-Er of course it would.” “Yeah, I can see it now!” Brian stood and walked over to the record player. “We use you to bring them in, and then they get hooked into making some bets. Set you by the bar, I knew that empty spot in the corner’d be useful for something!” Callahan stood eagerly. “They’d hear the fights and get curious,” he added, “and with enough moonshine they’ll all but be dropping their cash everywhere!” Brian laughed and threw up his hands. Damned this was fun to give the poor bastard hope. “Exactly!” His face was light up with excited glee for this ‘new show.’ Suddenly his hands fell to his sides and he stopped the record. It made an ungodly screech that made Callahan jump. “You’re barking up the wrong tree.” Callahan’s face fell as the color drained. “Boss I know it’d work! Look, I can’t fight for much longer. The--“ “I don’t give a damn!” Brain shot back angrily. “I’m you boss, and you’re job is to fight till you drop then use your useless corpse to feed the fishes in the bay! The Santones hear one peep out of you and this all goes down in flames!” Callahan’s fearful face changed rapidly to the dog from the pits. Before he could march up and deliver the punch that would have gone directly to Brian’s kisser, Johnson’s hand snatched his shoulder from out of the shadows. Callahan didn’t have a chance to utter a sound before a fist went crashing into his face. Snyder glared down at the fighter, and he glared right back. “Throw him in the rings again tomorrow. Let’s see if he’s willing to howl after that.” Johnson picked Wulf from the ground and drug him from the room. Brian sat back in his chair and picked up his pen. He didn’t bother holding back the laugh. That’d been fun.   The numbers came easier as Brian hummed under his breath to the tune that no longer played.

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