"Let's go to the office. That's where your money is. I'm good friends with the owner. We'll have privacy there."
He and Benjamin Franklin, to whom I still had yet to be introduced, turned and walked toward the back of the club. I walked behind with legs bent at the knees, staying in the character of Groucho. Why I don't know.
We passed through a door and down a hall to another door marked "Manager." Morty opened it and let Benjy and me go through first.
It was a plush office. The Tiki Moon's manager was doing well for himself...