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I am going too give tom a bottle of alcohle with some laxtives in it.To tell him how much of a shitface he is.
"Tom's got some woman in new york"(pg. 15)

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I would give a rose to nick
nick is a nice and caring perosn not easey to anger and does not jude peolpe right off the bat and does not relay gosip and when he is meets tom's mistrecie he does not yell and scream at tom like I would have.

Then I heard footsteps on a stairs, and in a moment
the thickish figure of a woman blocked out the light from the
office door. She was in the middle thirties, and faintly stout,
but she carried her surplus flesh sensuously as some women
can. Her face, above a spotted dress of dark blue crepe-de-
chine, contained no facet or gleam of beauty, but there was an
immediately perceptible vitality about her as if the nerves of
her body were continually smouldering(pg22)

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I would give Jodarden a box full of bees that has on a messge on top that says(shake be for opeing)
Why I would give this to her is because she likes to sugar coat her lies.

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I would give Mr. Gatsby a flower crown.
Because of how much he suffferd thourgh the war and his parents dinying.
(He looked at me sideways — and I knew why Jordan Baker

had believed he was lying. He hurried the phrase “educated at

Oxford,” or swallowed it, or choked on it, as though it had

bothered him before. And with this doubt, his whole statement

fell to pieces, and I wondered if there wasn’t something a little

sinister about him, after all.

“What part of the Middle West?” I inquired casually.

“San Francisco.”

“I see.”

“My family all died and I came into a good deal of money.”

His voice was solemn)
Ps.(he might have carried the meadl with him to remiend him off a better time after his parents died) not anmowre wold i geve him this

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I would give Gatsby a big check list of all the itemes in his house so he can fix all of broken items.
because of all the wild praites.

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I would give Tom and Mr.Wilson the same casket to put Myrtle's dead boday in it.

“Oh, my Ga-od! Oh, my Ga-od! oh, Ga-od! oh, my Ga-od!”

Presently Tom lifted his head with a jerk and, after staring

around the garage with glazed eyes, addressed a mumbled in-

coherent remark to the policeman.

“M-a-y-.” the policeman was saying, “-o ——”

“No, r-.” corrected the man, “M-a-v-r-o ——”

“Listen to me!” muttered Tom fiercely.

“r” said the policeman, “o ——”

“g ——”

“g ——” He looked up as Tom’s broad hand fell sharply on his

shoulder. “What you want, fella?”

“What happened?— that’s what I want to know.”

“Auto hit her. Ins’antly killed.”

“Instantly killed,” repeated Tom, staring.

“She ran out ina road. Son-of-a-bitch didn’t even stopus car.”

“There was two cars,” said Michaelis, “one comin’, one goin’,

see?” (pg 105)
rip to Myrtle

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I would give Nick, Gatsby some claming herable tea because they need to calm the frick down and take a chill pill

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I would plant evedince of some crimes in Mr.Wilson house.Then give a tip about some sus actaivtantions to the police.

“Look in the drawer there,” he said, pointing at the desk.

“Which drawer?”

“That drawer — that one.”

Michaelis opened the drawer nearest his hand. There was

nothing in it but a small, expensive dog-leash, made of leather

and braided silver. It was apparently new.

“This?” he inquired, holding it up.

Wilson stared and nodded.

“I found it yesterday afternoon. She tried to tell me about it,

but I knew it was something funny.”

“You mean your wife bought it?”

“She had it wrapped in tissue paper on her bureau.”

Michaelis didn’t see anything odd in that, and he gave Wilson

a dozen reasons why his wife might have bought the dog-leash.

But conceivably Wilson had heard some of these same explana-

tions before, from Myrtle, because he began saying “Oh, my

God!” again in a whisper — his comforter left several explana-

tions in the air.

121

“Then he killed her,” said Wilson. His mouth dropped open

suddenly.

“Who did?”

“I have a way of finding out.”

“You’re morbid, George,” said his friend. “This has been a

strain to you and you don’t know what you’re saying. You’d

better try and sit quiet till morning.”

“He murdered her.”

“It was an accident, George.”

Wilson shook his head. His eyes narrowed and his mouth

widened slightly with the ghost of a superior “Hm!”

“I know,” he said definitely, “I’m one of these trusting fellas

and I don’t think any harm to nobody, but when I get to know a

thing I know it. It was the man in that car. She ran out to speak

to him and he wouldn’t stop.”
pg 119-120

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I would give mister Gast a son that loved him
because in his up bringing he never loved his real parents