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into the phone, it’s him you hear. You don’t want to talk to him. He doesn’t speak English well.
    The secret friend signals her to hand him the receiver. She gives it to him and he informs Tony in Japanese English that he has hired the lady for a week, and he doesn’t like to be disturbed.
    For a moment there’s silence on the other end, and then Tony’s velvety voice returns:
    A week?! The fucking bitch took you for a week? Give her to me!
    You not talking to girl, says the Japanese wrestler in broken English. I take her till January two.
    Give her to me right now! Tony raises the volume of his tenor by two decibels.
    Talk quiet, says the Japanese, or you talk through my ass.
    Sir, the tenor called Tony softens, you can’t have her for a week. She’s not free. It’s impossible. You can only have her for one night.
    I stay with girl how much time she likes, states the Japanese in a tone that brooks no argument, and adds: And how much time I like.
    She can’t do what she likes, Tony tries to explain.
    You mistake, the Japanese corrects him in a quiet voice. She can. She free person.
    What the fuck are you talking about? Tony erupts. Free person my ass. She does what I tell her. She’s full up all week. You can have her for two hours max. In two hours time you’re getting the hell out of there.
    Forget it, says Hanina quietly.
    Don’t fuck with me! Tony’s voice is menacing.
    Why not? asks Hanina like a child in third grade.
    Why not?! Tony yells as if he can’t believe his ears. And suddenly he changes his tone. Hey! You’re no fucking Jap.
    Oh, no? says the fucking Jap in surprise.
    That’s not how fucking Japs talk, pronounces Tony.
    How do fucking Japs talk? inquires the fucking Jap.
    Fucking Japs don’t answer a question with a question, states Tony, and adds: If you see what I mean?
    So how do fucking Japs answer? The Jap answers a question with a question.
    I’ll tell you what you are, Tony spits out in a voice full of loathing.
    Suddenly there’s a long silence on the other end of the line.
    Hello? The non-Japanese challenges his silent interlocutor. You promised to tell me what I am.
    You know what you are, says Tony, you’re a sonofabitch son of Satan.
    You’re wrong, I’m Satan himself in person. Body and soul.
    You think everybody’s afraid of you? Tony’s voice seethes with hatred. I’m not afraid of you!
    Who’s ‘you’? asks Satan in a Satanic tone. Who are you talking about?
    I’m talking about you, the man called Tony refuses to elaborate, you!
    But who is this ‘you’? Satan persists. Are you talking about devils?
    You people are worse than devils, Tony says heatedly, you’re a curse, you’re the fucking disease of the human race!
    You still haven’t told me who you’re talking about, says Satan in an amused tone.
    You’re everywhere, you’re like the sand on the seashore. A person can’t go anywhere in this town without bumping into you. In the streets, the offices, businesses, stores, hospitals, restaurants, courts, the opera, the newspapers, television, the media, the banks, you push in everywhere like cockroaches crawling out of the sewers!
    Are you talking about some kind of animal? Satan wonders.
    Animals? What animals? What are wolves or snakes compared to you. You’re wild animals in human form! A person only has to read your history to understand who you are.
    Really? Satan pours more oil on the fire burning in the heart of his interlocutor. What for instance did you find in our history that helped you to understand something?
    You tortured your prophets, accuses Tony. You threw them in jail.
    What do you say? Satan goes on provoking him. That’s really terrible!
    The prophets told the truth about you, pronounces Tony.
    You speak like a scholar, says Shakespeare, how did you end up dealing in women? Via drug dealing? Is it connected to something you did in your past?
    It’s connected to your fucking mother, Tony embarks on a monologue composed entirely of