Sonny Lieberman was the first to reach the turnstiles. He had to swipe his subway card through before he could make a dash for the subway. When Billy arrived at the turnstile, Sonny Lieberman was still fumbling with his card, cursing his being all thumbs. Billy didn’t fumble. In fact, he didn’t even bother with the card or the swipe or anything. He just hurdled the turnstile, a maneuver that was both illegal and smart.

But alas, Sonny Lieberman’s 4 train was already at the subway platform. In fact, it had been there for a minute or so and now was on the verge of departing. Sonny Lieberman knew he had to catch that 4 train or he would lose the bet. Billy Constable’s 5 train was automatically next into the station.

Sonny Lieberman finally passed through the turnstile and ran as fast as he could down the platform as if his mortal life depended upon his getting into the last car of that 4 train.

Billy watched him go. There wasn’t anything else he could do.

Sonny arrived at the last car as the doors began to close.

And then Sonny Lieberman did something Billy Constable would always refer to as “real smart.”

“Back in 1980,” the cripple told the producer, “when I was [he made quotes in the air with two fingers of each hand] the Game Show King of Television, I was producing a program called Treasure Hunt. The show had twenty-five huge boxes onstage, one of which contained a check for twenty-five thousand dollars. Three contestants answered a series of questions worth twenty-five points apiece. The contestant with the highest score got to pick one of the twenty-five boxes. After the winning contestant pointed to the box she wanted, a showgirl would fetch the box and bring it to the program’s host. The host would open the box, all the while messing with the contestant, teasing her, trying to make her think she’d won the twenty-five thousand dollars, hoping maybe she’d faint or something. It was all part of the fun,” said the old cripple, “part of the program’s charm. The host’s name was Jeff Edwards. He was good at teasing the women contestants. Once he—”

“What’s this got to do with—”

“Please,” said the cripple, holding up his hands, palms forward, as if pushing a door open, “don’t interrupt. Let me tell this my way. The faster I tell you my story, the faster you’ll understand what a great TV program idea I have here.” The cripple paused a moment, took a deep breath, and said, “Sometimes I admit we carried teasing the woman too far. Sometimes Jeff would have the woman, it was always a woman, we only used women contestants on Treasure Hunt, sometimes Jeff would have the woman thinking she won something really big when all she won was a toaster. I admit, we’d drive those women bonkers. She’d be standing there hyperventilating, you know, screaming or gasping or putting her hands to her cheeks and jumping…jumping all over the stage until she heard what she really won. Then she’d spiral back to reality, often very disappointed but”—the cripple took a deep breath—“but she would always be left with something worthwhile. You know, a nice prize of some kind. Usually. Anyway, Mike Wallace accused me of tampering with the emotions of my contestants on 60 Minutes. He said I put my contestants through an emotional roller coaster for my own enjoyment. He was wrong. Wallace didn’t—”