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Rumpus Book ClubThe Last Words of Dutch Schultz
The mobster was also an artist. From his deathbed, deranged from injuries, drained of blood, be began his last will and testament: “Will you help me up? O.K. I won’t be such a big creep. Oh, mama. I can’t go through with it, please. Oh, and then he clips me; come on. Cut that out, we don’t owe a nickel; hold it; instead, hold it against him; I am a pretty good pretzler -Winifred- Department of Justice. I even got it from the department. Sir, please stop it. Say listen the last night!”
3:AM Magazine analyzes the gangster’s ramblings, comparing them to the works of great writers, considering the human mind cut adrift.
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