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There was me Alex and my three droogs sat in the Korova milkbar making our rassoodocks what to do. The four of uswere dressed in height of fashion, which in those days wos a pair of black very tight tights with the old jelly mold, as we called it fitting on the crotch. Our pockets were full of deng, so there was no real need from the point of crasting any more pretty polly to tolchock some old veck in an ally and viddy him swim in his blood while we counted the takings and divided by four, nor do the ultraviolenton some shivering starry grey haired ptitsa in a shop and go off with the till guts. Or are they say, " Money isn't Everything "

(La Naranja Mecánica)

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