“This… is why… I don’t do bidness with sleaze like you.”

“Sleaze? Coming from the man that eats a sandwich and talks at the same time! Gubby, you need to re-evaluate your use of adjectives.”

“You sure got some nerve, Micky! And don’t call me Gubby!” Don Gubino rapped Micky across his knuckles with a broom handle. “Only Nonna was allowed to call me Gubby… God rest her soul.” He made a cross with his hand, kissed the tips of his fingers, and pointed them to the heavens.

“I didn’t know monsters like you had grandmothers, Gubby. I thought all you mob bosses crawled out of sewer rats.”

“Are you implying my mother is gutter vermin?” The Don threw a mean left hook and completed his remark with a right cross.

“No…” The blood from Micky’s nose started to dribble down his lips as he began to rile up his opponent. “…I was sayin’ you ain’t got no mother.” He began to spit blood everywhere as his rhetoric continued. “I’m sayin’ you send your Christmas cards and letters to… a… to a BIG!” Micky took another sock to the jaw. “FAT!” A blow to the gut. “STINKIN’ RAT!”

“You don’t talk about Mamma like that!” Gubino drew his gun and readied for a trigger pull, right between Micky’s eyes.


“Don’t even think about it, fatso!”

Don Gubino froze in place as he felt the cold barrel of June’s gun make an indent in his chubby bald head.

“Really Mick? This is how you were gonna keep him busy?”

“You can’t tell Junebug, but I had him on the ropes.”

“You call your flattened face ‘on the ropes’?”

“No. I call that progress.” Micky smiled with childlike pride as his runny nose dribbled blood and his left eye drooped from its swelling. “Now let’s make some more progress and get me outta this chair, babydoll. I got a wicked knot in my lower back and that falling asleep tingle is setting into my legs.” June pushed the mob boss into the corner with her gun and untied her husband. “Gubby you need to get some better chairs.”

Gubino just stared, with his mouth open like a goldfish.

“You hear me Gubby? Nod if you hear me.”

Gubino nodded. Micky and June gathered their ill-gotten gain from atop his desk and made their way out the door.

“One more thing.” Micky doubled back to the desk. “I’m taking the rest of your sandwich.” He took a bite. “Provolone? You’ve got good taste Gubby!”