SlingBlade sits silently in a dimly lit FBN Interrogation Room rubbing his hands together. Not nervously, moreso impulsively. His face is strangely serene given the fact he had just been picked up by the FBN on an ongoing drug investigation. Attempts at an arrest had been futile up to this point, and the agency thought it would be best to pick up a low ranking associate of limited intelligence to assist in building a case against their target in the probe, Big_Meech out of NY. The agents enter the room stern-faced, sizing up SlingBlade in an atempt to intimidate.

FBN AGENT: So. We picked you up because of your association with a known felon we believe to be sponsoring you in the New York Mafia. Our agents observed him driving you from a known drug den in NY to a headquarters we believe to be owned by Don Whatsername.

SLINGBLADE: I don't reckon I know anybody named Whatsername.

The agents gaze at SlingBlade dumbfounded while SlingBlade continues to rub his hands together, staring blankly at the floor

FBN AGENT: Is it not true that you work for Whatsername in a NY Organized Crime operation?

SLINGBLADE: No sir. Been workin' for a fellar by the name of Big_Meech

The agents grab a pen and paper and begin taking notes

FBN AGENTS: And what can you tell us about Big_Meech? How did you come to meet him and why would we have seen him driving you from a known drug hot spot yesterday?

SLINGBLADE: Well he's been plum nice to me since I done came to these shores. Lots of fellars was sendin' me mails and whatnot, askin' me to join their crew and whatnot. Some fellars just came by and said "Nice name" to me and whatnot. I reckon they was just tryin' to make sport of me, makin' fun of me and whatnot. I didn't have no place to stay so I run into this Big_Meech fellar and asked him if he had a place for me to rest for a spell. He wasn't too keen on the idea, prolly on account of me just bein' released from State Hospital, and started usin' bad language at me and whatnot. I told 'im he ought not use language like that he's just a boy. Well, I guess ol' Big_Meech decided he had room for me in the garage of that thare buildin' you done seen us come out of 'n said I could be his driver and whatnot.

FBN AGENT: And how long have you been employed as Big_Meech's driver?

SLINGBLADE: I only done drove Big_Meech but once. That ol' boy said I was the plum worst driver he done ever seen 'n said he don't want me drivin' for 'im no more. But he likes keepin' me around 'cuz he says he likes the way I talk. I told 'im I like the way he talks too so long as he ain't usin' bad language and such. He knows better'n that. But he's been good to me for the most part. He lets me sleep in the garage of that thare buildin' yer boys saw us leavin' and he don't beat me too regularly. He got an ol' cot back thare he let's me use for sleepin' and puttin' my books down and such.

FBN AGENT: We don't care about any of this. We want information about drug trafficing, or better yet murder. We're prepared to offer you total immunity for any testimony you can give that would lead to Big_Meech's incarseration.

SLINGBLADE: I don't reckon I seen 'im dealin' no drugs or killin' no folks but he does use bad language from time to time. Not sure if that helps you folks' case or not. Sometimes he come into the garage and knocks my books onto the floor and starts a-yellin' at me for no reason, but I reckon he's just tryin' to make sport of me.

FBN AGENT: That's all you can tell us? That he uses occasional profanity? This is a waste of time. Get out of here.

SLINGBLADE: Alright then.

SlingBlade leaves the FBN building to head back to Big_Meech's garage. The agents look at each other.

FBN AGENT: Well, that guy as a real idiot.

OTHER FBN AGENT: No, he's wise beyond his years. What we just witnessed was an alleged mob-associate exercising the time-honored Mafia principle of Omerta. For that he should be saluted.

The FBN Agents stand up and salute SlingBlade as he fades off into the sunset. They continue saluting, repeatedly, long after SlingBlade fades from their sight. The moral of the story is don't talk to police and always adhere to the time-honored traditions of Omerta. You'll find you will be respected by others for doing so. Wisdom can often be found in the simplest of places, sometimes by the simplest of men.

as melien hears the young mobster talking about his experiance with the FBN, melien walks over to add his piece.

"mr. slingblade, this is an excellent teraching story. your silence is a lesson that all of us here isn this world should honor, and many should know much better.

i hope that everyone who reads this remembers and uses this lesson."

Meech pulls up on the side SlingBlade as walks slowly down the street, head straight, and books all tied together in one hand.

Hey asshat what were you talking to those pigs about back their!?!

Meech feels disrepected because SlingBlade keeps walking as if Meech wasn't even riding along side of him.

Don't you fucking hear me???  Meech frowns

Than Meech thinks to himself what SlingBlade told him when they first met, "You shouldn't use language like that yer just a boy. You know better than that then to use language like that."

Meech thinks more wisely and talks in his teachers story time voice saying,

Hey SlingBlade, big guy! It's your friend Big_Meech. I got some French Fried Potaters with Mustard. Come on get in the car with me so I can take you back to the garage, you've got tons of work to do. You can start by bagging this white powder for me. You like sugar dont you?  Come on big guy.

SlingBlade stops and looks over Meech saying,

French Fried Potaters?

Meeches says,  Yep!

SlingBlade says,

No more language gonna be used like that?

Meech says, Nope.

SlingBlade hops in the car and Meech takes him back to the garage to complete his chores.

I reckon ye got me some warsh to do, Big_Meech. Reckon I'll have time to do some warsh in between beatings. Thanks fer the ride n' whatnot. Sorry I can't drive ye myself on account of me bein' such a bad driver n' whatnot. State hospital taught me how to fix motors but not how to drive motor vehicles.

SlingBlade gazes out the window for the remainder of the car ride, thankful for a sponsor who looks out for him, yet dissapointed that he is sponsored by a man who chooses to use such bad language. He should know better'n that.