By eleven-thirty the neighbors across the court were already hollering for quiet; so the party was a success. Billy Fisher was hollering back at them. Billy was quite a wit. He admitted that he was, but at this stage of the party he could think of nothing to shout across the court except the old reliable "Go to hell." The neighbors declined to go. They threatened him with the janitor, the police, and a dispossess. Billy retorted, "Go to hell." And because you have only to establish yourself as a wit in order to put the stamp of humor upon all or any of your remarks, Billy's friends howled with delight every time he shouted.
It was the Saturday night party at Billy's house. As a matter of fact these parties occurred not more than once a month, but since they always burst forth on Saturday they were known as the Saturday night parties. Those who attended always liked to pretend that regular as clockwork there was a party at Billy's every Saturday night.
Hymie Moss brought the gin. Hymie Moss always brought the gin. Billy would take it from him at the doorway and say, "What did you do that for?" Hymie would say, "I don't know, I just thought—" But both of them knew that Hymie brought the gin because he wanted to be invited the next time.
