“I coulda been a big leaguer.” Bobby swung his bat, enjoying the rush of air it created.
“Get outta here,” Louie said. He finished tying the informant to the chair.
“No, really. I was all set.”
“So what happened?”
“Leg got busted.”
The snitch squealed and squirmed. A dark stain spread across his pants.
“But even with this leg, I can outswing Ruth.”
“You gonna hit a homer?”
“I always hit a homer.” Bobby pointed to the other end of the warehouse, just like Ruth calling his shot. He swung and the snitch’s head snapped.
“Foul ball,” Louie said.