As Uncle Joe sat there in the funeral parlor with other prominent men and women of honor from the various territories he couldn't help but reminisce over the man they were laying to rest. Vincent "Vinnie Gorgeous" Mancini had long been a friend to him and countless others. Uncle Joe had grown up with Vinnie in the streets. They had put in much work together over the years and grown very close with one another. It was for this reason he had been in attendance with a heavy heart.

Uncle Joe, Marie Lucania, Salvatore Luciano and Spaceman had shown up today to pay their respects to the late great Mancini. Vincent Mancini had been respected far and wide in the criminal underworld and would be greatly missed.

No one was without fault in this life. Uncle Joe thought about something a friend of his had said years ago. It summed up the life perfectly.

"This life of ours, this is a wonderful life. If you can get through a life like this and get away with it, hey that's great. But it's very predictable. There's so many ways it can go wrong."

At the end of the viewing Sal, Marie, Spaceman and Uncle Joe, along with countless other men and women of honor made their way to the cars waiting to follow Mancini's hearse to his graveside burial. There was a procession of cars, adorned with beautiful flower arrangements almost a mile long. Hundreds had turned out for the beloved godfather.

Upon their arrival at Forrest lawn memorial park cemetery, Uncle Joe, Salvatore and Spaceman made their way to Mancini's hearse as Marie and others found their seats around graveside. Together with the pall bearers they hoisted Mancini's immaculate coffee fit for a king and made their way to his grave. As Mancini was lowered in, Uncle Joe looked around at all the sad faces in attendance. He thought about what a sad day it was for this thing of ours. They were laying to rest a man among men. Someone who had always been there when he was needed. The atmosphere was somber to say the least.

After Vinnie Gorgeous Mancini had been lowered in, a priest gave the last rites as was traditional with Italians. One by one everyone made their way to lower flowers to the late Godfather Mancini. It was the last gesture of friends and family.

Marie waited until it was appropriate to approach the graveside.   It had been a beautiful service and time of remembrance.   She thought back to the first time she had meet Vincent.  It had been back in the great war.  He had so gallantly stepped forward and set out with Lucky to launch a crew in Chicago to defend it was those who wished to conquer it.  She and her city owed his kin a great deal.  She would not forget that debit.  To symbolize that sentiment she dropped a Hydrangea onto his final resting spot.  Silently is offered a prayer for the fallen man and a blessing for his kin.

Thankful for the heavy black veil that hid her tears for the great man, she stepped away from the grave and moved off to express condolences to the gathered relatives and friends.  She hoped that Vincent found a peace now in the after-life that was withheld from all of them that walked these shores in this life.

Coltrane had heard about the funeral and decided to show up. He wore his nicest black outfit and brought a bouquet of assorted flowers, nicely provided by his friend Calimero_DiGrazia.

He didn’t know the man known as Vinnie Gorgeous personally, but he spoke with the respected man a few times. Vincent had a way of making everyone feel as if they had been friends for a long time. He was a genuine, true and impressive man that would be dearly missed by the whole country.

He put down the flowers in the grave and stepped away.

As my face seemed to match those who were deeply saddened by the passing of 'Vinnie Gorgeous Mancini', there were others who held a tissue close to their face as they watched his burial take place. 

With a heavy heart, I stood near Coltrane, and sensed his desolation that was brought upon this day. Everyone had their own things to say about Vincent's existence, but if there was one thing that I would say about his time lived on Earth, I would no doubt comment on how much of a great impact he had, not just on the city of LA but on the other cities. 

I had never spoken to him before, but I was sure that many other people looked up to him, and would wish him well in the afterlife. Vincent would never be forgotten for those who cherished him in their hearts. 

<font color="#B4B4B4">I waited patiently before getting the chance to rest the beautiful arrangement of flowers beside him.</font>

"Fly high, angel."

Louie posted up on a building, with a cigarette drooping from his mouth. He was across the street from the funeral home where the late Godfather Mancini lies for his procession. The building was crawling with security and wise guys posing as businessmen and businesswomen affiliated to the legitimate side of Mr. Mancini's endeavours.

Godfather Vincent Mancini was a Giovane D'onore, unsurpassable by any under him and at a level similar to his colleagues on the Commission, the other great Chairmen and major heads of our organization. He had many legit and illegitimate businesses and money-making methods, and the manpower to back it all.

Louie watched as many cars pulled into the funeral home, some more elegant than others. The more elegant cars that came in contained some important figures within this thing of ours, I could see Godmother Marie Lucania of Chicago, Don Joe Ligambi of Las Vegas, and Don Coltrane from Seattle. Important figures came from all over the country to attend the funeral of this man.

As Louie smoked his cigarette and thought of his place within this lifestyle. As a Captain he knew he had a long way to go to achieve this level of respect, and he knew he had come very far already. But as he stood there leaning, he couldn't help but wonder if someday he may have a grand procession in his passing.

He snickered at the thought, and dropped the cigarette beneath his foot before getting in his car and driving home.

Jack stood with a bouquet of the whitest roses he could find. They had no significance to the man, as far as he knew, they were just what he thought of when the man, Vincent Mancini, graced his thoughts. As the previous mourner stood back, Jack stepped up. He had no etiquette for funerals, no recited words or motions to recall or rehearsed reactions to utilize. The flowers remained gripped in one hand, the other hung idly at his side.

"Signore,... Godfather Mancini. I watched you rise and watched you rule. So often was your appearance on these streets that you became my pace setter, I became accustomed to seeing your face and grew up convinced you would outlive me. We spoke often, small talk, but respectful. You were a gent."

He knees, laying the brilliant white flowers atop the casket. He crossed his heart, kissed his fingers and stood, eventually moving away for the next.