I entered loudly and without knocking.  When I dropped a box, filled with shoes, next to the doorway, the man behind the counter looked up at me, and I could see him visibly shrink in fear.

He had good reason to be afraid.  The owners of this little Mom and Pop shoe store had somehow remained under the radar during our crew’s recent acquisition of their block.  They owed me months of back protection money.  As a small-time shoe maker, I knew he wouldn’t be able to afford it.  And that never bodes well for a business in our neighborhood.

“Good day, Pop,” I said, extending my hand.  “I hope that I find you in good health.  My name is Cosmo Kramer.   I am sorry to say that my visit today regards some rather unfortunate business.  Do you have somewhere we can sit down in private?”

He hesitated twice before answering.  “Certainly, sir.”  He spoke softly.  “I can have my wife make us some coffee, if you’d like.”

“That sounds fine.”

“Cel!” he yelled.  The name sounded like “seal,” and I guessed that it was short for his wife’s full name, Cecelia.  “Bring us two coffees!  One black and the other…I’m sorry, Mr. Kramer?”

“Black is fine.”

“Two black coffees!” he yelled up into the ceiling.  “Follow me, Mr. Kramer.”  He led me behind the counter, behind a curtain, and into a very small and cluttered office, half-filled with piled polishes, odd strips of leather, and unknown metal utensils.

He sat down behind a desk that his knees could not fit under, and motioned for me to sit across from him in a wooden chair with a rotting wicker seat.  We sat in eerie silence for just a few moments.  As I was about to speak, Cecelia slid under the curtain with a tray in her hands.

“Okayyy, here you are, boys.  Enjoy.”  She seemed to be under the impression that I was a new client, and gave Pop an excited look before again disappearing effortlessly under the curtain.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, Mr. Kramer, but what is all this about?” he asked.  “Your visit is most unexpected.”

“To be honest, Mr. Pop,” I responded, “I’m surprised to hear you say that.  I’m sure that you noticed that things have been changing in the neighborhood.  Members of my organization and I are attempting to clean up the streets, as some say.  I represent a very powerful woman in this neighborhood.   Whatsername.  I do not doubt that you have heard of her?”

I saw the recognition in his eyes, and he did not break their contact with my own as he nodded slowly.

“Well, Mr. Pop.  Whatsername has asked me to come here and to speak with you today.  I have come to reach out and offer you our protection.”

His eyes opened more widely for a second before his face resumed a stern expression.  “I don’t understand, Mr. Kramer.  This is a nice neighborhood.  I have never had any problems.  We’ve run our small business here for 48 years.  We plan to retire soon.  I am sure that we will do just fine without any of Ms Whatsername’s protection.”

“I don’t think you understand, Mr. Pop.” I said.  “We highly recommend that you accept our protection. You would be surprised at how quickly things can go badly.”

“But, I really don’t think that it’s necessar—“

“You’d be surprised, Mr. Pop,” I said, “At how quickly things can go badly.”  I reached my long arm across the desk, grabbing a handful of his thin gray hair, and pushed his face quickly down in to the desk.  

He closed his eyes against the impact and his face smashed hard, spilling his cup and soaking coffee into the littered newspapers, some sopping over the side and onto the stacks of leather.  A few small specks of blood intermixed with the coffee, staining the fabric.  When Pop tilted his head back, trying to stop the flow of blood, I wrapped the fingers of one hand around his neck and pointed to the ceiling with the other.

“Do you see those wires sticking out every which way, Pop?” I asked, sounding a little less collected, now.  “Those wires violate your building code.  The fire marshal’s a good friend of mine.  I used to steer the back of the fire truck.  I could call him up right now and have you shut down by the end of the day.  Is that what you want to happen, Mr. Pop?  Is it?!”

“No, sir.” He weakly responded.

“Me neither, Pop” I said.  “It wouldn’t take much for those wires to actually ignite, either.  One cold night you and lovely Cecelia could be huddled up in bed, fast asleep, and a fire could start.  The two of you will die, unknowingly, in a fiery inferno.  No, it wouldn’t take much, Pop.  This whole place could blow at any minute.  Very easily.  And no one would think twice about it, because that is some very sloppy wiring you’ve got there.”

“I think I understand now, sir,” he said.

“I certainly hope so,” I said.  “Because I would hate to have to come down here and explain all it to you again.  Or maybe I could explain it to Cecelia.  Maybe she would have an easier time understanding.”

“That won’t be necessary, sir,” he said.  “I understand you fully, now.  It’s a dangerous city.  It’s a dangerous world.  And I would be happy to have Ms Whatsername’s protection.”  He lowered his head now and stared at the desk.

“That’s what I was hoping to hear, Pop,” I said.  “There’s a box of shoes by the front door.  I will return in two days to pick them up.  When I do, I expect that box not only to be full of impeccably cobbled shoes, but also 5 large.  I will return for that same amount each following Monday. Capiche?”

“Yes, Mr. Kramer,” he said.  He did not look up from the desk.

“Enjoy the rest of your weekend, Pop.”

Selatcia observed the happenings inside the show store from across the street. He watched silently through the window as Cosmo_Kramer slammed the hapless old man's head into his desk, the look of confusion and fear on his wrinkly face slowly transitioning to one of realization. Selatcia was not one to smile, but if he was, he would surely shed smile at how the neighborhood was shaping up for the better.

Selatcia looked down at his own foot apparel. His leather shoes showing slight signs of wear. At least now he knew where he could come to get a new pair for a reasonable price, or no price at all for that matter

Selatcia observed the happenings inside the show store from across the street.

Show store of course is a Mafia code word for "shoe store"