I preferred the plain ones. Belson liked the ones with strawberry frosting and sprinkles. “What kind of sissy eats strawberry-frosted donuts?” I said. “With jimmies,” Belson said. “I had too much respect for you,” I said, “even to mention the jimmies.” “Thanks,” Belson said. “My poetic side.” “Um,” I said. “You know that Jackson’s widow has moved in with your boy Goran?” “And his girlfriend,” I said. “What the fuck is that about?” Belson said. “Love?” I said. Belson looked at me as if I had just spit up. “They did the will,” Belson said. “She is now worth eighty million, seven hundred, and twenty-three bucks.” “More or less,” I said. “That’s the number they gave me,”