| Oct 19 - 05:52:45 |
|
| Post Reply | Post new topic | Page: 1 2 [ > - >>> ] |
| Can't Spell Mafia With E-G-O | Started by: Marietta on Feb 27, '09 14:11 |
|
"Son of a bitch," the woman cried, throwing the five playing cards face down onto the table. "How in the world do you keep pulling straights like that?" "Now now, settle down," one of her male companions said in response, putting his hands up in a mock defensive 'please God, don't hit me' gesture. With an angry, low growl Marietta Rossi leaned forward to pick up her cards off of the card table and tossed them towards the tall man with a wrinkled nose of irritation. "Shut up, Obizzle. You shuffle this time." A cool breeze kicked up, wafting into the enclosed alley behind Gato's Buscetta Pasta restaurant. Marietta wiggled her toes happily in the sunshine, her feet free from her pair of black high heels, discarded several feet away propping open the back door to the establishment. Her hands free from cards, she began to pile her blonde hair on top of her head, her green eyes watching the cards being shuffled behind her dark sunglasses perched delicately upon her nose. It was a good, restful day... as long as she could continue to avoid her bodyguard Pedro so she didn't have to sit in those boring meetings with the Galvagno Family, discussing territory boundaries. After her timely (and unplanned) escape, nothing had sounded better than heading over to her Capo's family restaurant, currently serving as the front for their small alcohol bootlegging project. This trip was sweetened a bit more when she found several men from the Detroit syndicates playing a rousing round of poker. She pulled her legs underneath her on her chair as Obizzle began to deal the cards, tossing them casually across to the three other players. Eagerly Marietta scooped her cards off the table and immediately swore under her breath. Angrily she tossed them back down, crossing her arms across her chest and shaking her head irritably. The woman never really was the patient type when it came to the card game. "Horrible cards. Horrible. I'm out this round." "We've barely started this hand, Marietta," Obizzle replied with a raised eyebrow. "I said I'm out!" she said with a raised voice, turning her head away from the table to avoid his stare. One of the other men across from her chuckled as he pulled his own hand towards him, raising his eyebrow towards her in a mocking gesture. With a smirk Benjamin Button dared to taunt her, "And here I thought you never lost, Marietta." A round of laughter rose around the table and Marietta took a moment to glare at each of the gentlemen sitting at the poker game with her. Obizzle continued to scrape every last one of his dollar bills into his hand before organizing it into a neat, tidy stack. Benjamin, after his sarcastic comment was barely paying attention, watching one of Louis' waitresses finish her smoke break outside the back door. The pretty young gal gave him a large grin and wave before dropping the stick, stubbing it out with her toe and re-entering the building. Wild Turkey was staring at his cards so seriously that Marietta couldn't help but break into a grin. "I lose. We all lose sometime. What does it matter?" was the last thing she said before falling into the comfortable silence they had been sitting in for hours before. A loud noise from the back of the restaurant caught their attention and all four of the players looked, slowly, to see Louis Gato himself emerging from the door, stumbling over Marietta's high heels as he did so, closely followed by a young man. Grumbling to himself as he approached the table he stopped short before them, placing his hands on his hips. The young boy, most likely one of Louis' associates, stood off to the side, staring at his boss uncertainly. His eyes, wide with wonder, occasionally darted over to Marietta and the other men before gazing back at Louis. "Well, they're here. Are you ready?" Louis asked, his breath coming out in a huff that blew his longish hair off of his face as he stared at Obizzle and Benjamin. The two men nodded in return, their chairs scraping against the cement ground as they stood and stretched. Marietta's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. "Whoa whoa whoa, who's here?" she asked, starting to stand up herself as well, wincing as her bare feet hit a rock on the ground painfully. Louis waved his hands, gesturing for the woman to sit back down. "Don't worry about it. Just a guy from Miami. He's buying, we're selling. These guys are here to just help load up the truck." With a final jerk of his thumb over his shoulder towards Obizzle and Benjamin, he turned to the young man standing in his shadow. "Go ahead and get them, Phil." The little boy nodded and turned quickly, running through the back door and into the restaurant. Marietta sat back down, curling up in her chair, barely listening to the men around her talking quietly or watching as WildTurkey began shuffling the deck of repeatedly, a cigarette dangling from his lips. Instead the woman's gaze was focused upon the rear side of the restaurant intently, waiting to see the man who was here to do business with her city. It had been a long time since she herself had been involved in many 'transactions', so she was curious to see if the process had changed in the long daysmonthsyears since her rise to Godfather. Her attention was immediately caught when Phil came bounding out of the door again happily followed by two men, one recognizable and the other wearing a dark, neatly pressed suit walked through the backdoor. His, the stranger's, hat was tilted at an angle, the corners of his mouth turned up into a smirk as he listened to Salvatore Gato, Louis' brother, speak and guide him into the loading area. The pair was shadowed closely by a very large, very silent and very angry looking brick of a man. One glance told Marietta that this had to be one of the well-dressed man's cronies. "Welcome, welcome," said Louis jovially, stretching out his hand and seizing the man's own. They shook hands briefly before Louis turned, waving over Obizzle. "This is my associate, Obizzle. He's the guy I told you about. Obizzle, this is Donnie Damato. Donnie contacted me a week back about the moonshine..." The man trailed off as Donnie and Obizzle shook hands, the pair lowering their voices a few notches and making it considerably that much harder for Marietta to eavesdrop. With a sigh she kicked her feet onto Benjamin's open chair and titled her head towards WildTurkey. "When's this supposed to be over and done with?" she asked of the man, watching out of the corner of her eye as Donnie passed a large wad of cash from his suit breast pocket over to Obizzle, who began to thumb through and count it quickly with a nod. "I would like to see or sample..." she heard Donnie say just as WildTurkey gave a small huff of laughter. "No idea. I just wanna play some fuckin' poker," was his response. "Amen," she replied, turning to now watch as Benjamin walked over to a large quantity of crates, selecting one of them; he kicked it over with his foot, sliding it towards Donnie's expensive shoes. Louis darted a look at Phil and immediately the young boy sprang forward eagerly with a crowbar, expending a huge amount of effort to wedge the top of the crate open. With a sigh of relief he picked up some of the product from within, holding it towards the Miami mobster for inspection. After a few more moments of low conversation and examination, Donnie nodded and smiled toward Obizzle and Louis. "Everything looks good. Carl already moved the truck to the side of the alley, and Paulie here can help load my truck," Donnie said with a nod towards the stone-faced man lurking behind him, who immediately moved over towards the line of boxes, picked one up and walked off through the side gate that enclosed the back-patio area of Gato's, Salvatore mimicking him and following suit, carrying two crates of his own. "Just pack this one back up, Phil, then help carry the other ones to the truck. They're taking forty total, capiche?" Louis said, putting his hand on the boy's shoulder and nodding. The boy returned the head jerk seriously, a look of determination etched upon his face, and satisfied Louis exited the area through the back door into the restaurant. Marietta smiled to herself and turned once more to WildTurkey. "That boy, Phil, he seems set on making a good impression today." "Louis said it's his first big job," the man replied, setting the deck of cards onto the table face down and crossing his own arms across his chest. "Ahhh, I see. Young blood." Out of the corner of her eye she saw Phil kneel to reseal the crate, but her focus was directed mostly on Donnie, who had started to roam around the enclosed patio and examine the dor, as well as the people. "Nice place you got here, Signore Gato," he said, pulling his eyes away from and catching sight of WildTurkey and Marietta. He smiled at the pair and tipped his hat in greeting. "Afternoon, Sir. Miss." "Afternoon," Marietta replied, WildTurkey merely jerking his head and grunting in response. Once more Donnie began his wandering, his hands in his pockets, just as Benjamin headed back over to the table. Pushing Mari's feet off of his chair with a grin, he sat back down and picked up the deck. "Want to go a hand without 'bizzle?" he asked, looking from Marietta to WildTurkey and back again. "May as well," the other man said, sitting up straight and facing the table. "Alrighty," Marietta agreed. This plan was cut short, however, when a loud crashing sound caused the trio to whip their heads to the side. There, standing with a look of utter shock upon his face was Phil, holding the crate he had tried to reassemble in his arms. The bottom, it appeared, had fallen off due to being improperly sealed, and the bottles of alcohol inside had plummeted to the ground, bursting apart and showering glass over the loading dock. "What the HELL is your problem?!" came a manly shriek from the opposite side of the patio. Without any dignity Donnie, the man from Miami, rushed towards Phil and gave him a light shove. "Hey whoa, what the fuck?" Obizzle said, turning away from the crates in time to see Donnie pushing Phil, who stumbled backwards a few feet before falling to his ass. Striding forward he put out his hand and helped pull the boy to his feet. Phil, flushed in embarrassment, began to brush off his backside, his eyes fixed upon the ground. "This kid is ruining the product!" Donnie screamed, his face taking on a shade of red as well, and his eyes starting to pop in his head a bit. "Don't worry about it, we'll just give you a new crate," Benjamin called from next to Marietta, the woman cringing at the volume. "All is well." Donnie huffed, shrugging his suit jacket on straight and grinding his teeth towards Phil. "Doesn't matter. The kid should be more careful. Lowly fucking goomba is going to ruin business by bumbling around like that. You should be ashamed of yourself, boy, not being more careful." Having just rounded the corner from the truck and upon hearing the man's tirade, Salvatore raised his eyebrow and walked forward towards the crates. He grabbed one, walking towards the angry man and dumped it into his arms. "Lowly goomba? What's your deal, Donnie? Here, a new crate. Just go put it on the truck and we'll get this done quickly." "I don't want you to interfere, Sal. I want an apology from this boy for being a complete idiot," Donnie roared furiously. Having watched the entire incidence in horror, Marietta cleared her throat loudly, leaning forward in her chair and looking at the man with a glare. "Look, Mister Damato, it was an accident. Accidents happen. Lets all just move on, get past this, and we'll get you on your way back home soon enough." Instead of listening to reason Donnie instead turned his attentions upon Marietta. "Lady, that attitude of yours is exactly why this business isn't worth anything. Now let us handle this and keep your nose out of matters you don't understand." For a moment her hand twitched towards her jacket, hanging on the back of the chair. In the pockets she knew her trusty Walther PPK was waiting, ready, to assist her in taking care of this pest. Yet a long buried feeling suddenly rose within the woman. When she was younger, and therefore more patient, she had taken men like the one before her and tried her best to teach them the rights and wrongs of this world. She had spent many a conversation explaining at length the problems with their outlooks on certain aspects of the business and this time... this time was no different. Swallowing her pride and biting her tongue, Marietta knew that this Donnie was not unlike the man who had gambled away his Boss' profits, or the man who had planned a bank heist in broad daylight. He too just needed to learn the error of his ways. "Ha!" she snorted at last in response to his comment, shaking her head at the man, no- childish human before her. "No... that attitude of yours... it holds no place in This Thing of Ours." "I'm sorry?" he said, taking a few steps towards her. "I don't believe I asked for your opinion." "Too bad, you're going to get it," was her retort. With a sigh Donnie turned to WildTurkey and Benjamin, gesturing towards Marietta. "Can you guys keep your bitch on a leash? She's ruining your business with a respected Capo from another family." "Who are you? Really?" she asked, staring him down straight in the eyes and waving at WildTurkey and Benjamin to be seated once more, for they had started to stand at Donnie's last sentence. "You are nothing but common mobster with a mouth and ego bigger than his body can hold. I don't care if you are a 'Capo' in your family or not. That rank holds no pull with me, or my syndicate. If you want to do business here then I expect you to be respectful to me and my men, regardless of what their ranks are in comparison to your own. To be honest, if you act like a dick I will treat you just as you dished it out." "You? Your syndicate? Give me a break. Where I come from my name means something, and I won't take your insults laying down," Damato said, spitting on the ground beside him in an angry and threatening gesture. "I'm considered a King where I'm from." Marietta raised her eyebrows in surprise, noticing the corners of WildTurkey's mouth twitching into a grin and in the distance hearing Obizzle muttering: "You shouldn't have done that." Phil, feeling rather brave at this point, took the opportunity to walk forward and pat the man on the shoulder. "You shouldn't talk to the Godfather like that, pal." Donnie, his expression changing and his face draining of all color rapidly, fixed his eyes upon Marietta once more. "Y-you... you..." he stuttered, and with irritation the woman cut him off. "Look. You may be 'King' of your business back in Miami, but you are nothing... nothing to the city of Detroit. Zip. Zilch. Nada. Easily disposed of here. You would be wise to remember that before you come in here shooting your mouth off... alone... unarmed, unprepared," Marietta said with a tilt of her head and a smirk. Donnie's eyes widened briefly as he took a cautious glance over his shoulder. It seemed his associates Carl and Paulie were both still around the corner, loading the crates of grain alcohol onto his truck. Noticing his predicament he merely gulped inaudibly, continuing to stare at Marietta. She smiled wider in response. "Aha. So you understand what I'm saying, then? It doesn't matter what family you come from or what rank you are. When doing business with another crew, what you say or your actions reflect upon not only you, but your Boss as well. You don't want to become lepers of the business world, do you? It comes down to respect. Remember that when you're dealing with others you need to keep your ego in check. In the end, that may be what puts you six feet under." A shocked silence followed the blonde's last statement, all eyes settled upon Donnie himself. His mouth worked for a few moments, opening and closing as if he had something to say but the words were not coming. After what seemed to be a very long, uncomfortable two minutes, the man eventually cleared his throat and said softly, "My apologies, then. I didn't mean for... I didn't mean it. Sorry to you, Godfather, and to you, boy." All eyes swiveled over to Marietta to see what she would say. Standing up from her chair she slowly strode over to the man, her bare feet avoiding pebbles and shards of broken glass. With a soft sigh she batted her eyelashes several times. "Sadly Donnie, sorry isn't good enough at this point." Without hesitation she reached out and grabbed the crate from his hands, shifting it to her own hip. "Today you will only be getting thirty-five crates. We will be keeping the extra five, as well as the money you've already paid for it. That will be your apology." Waving her hand dismissively the man finally took the hint. With a small grumble Donnie turned and walked towards the crates, grabbing one and exiting through the side gate towards his truck. From the expression on his face, Marietta could tell he wasn't very happy... but in comparison to how it could've ended, it was but a small price he had to pay for disrespect. Luckily enough for him. (*Yes, I had permission from WildTurkey, Obizzle, Benjamin_Button, LouisGato and SalvatoreGato to use their names, likeness and sexiness in this production. Thanks.*) |
|
| Report Post | Tip |
|
Well written, and the moral of the story is clear for all to see. Well presented also. Would I be right to make the assumption that Detroit and it's associates would show that same respect to members of other cities regardless of rank too? Two way street, and all that jazz. Maybe that can be part two! The return trip. |
|
| Reply by: Jax at Feb 27, '09 14:21 | |
| Report Post | Tip |
| A very good story, to sure. I hope that those who are new to this thing of ours, or who brashly act as if they're new, have the attention span and good judgment to read this story and assimilate its meaning. Well done! | |
| Reply by: MacLeod at Feb 27, '09 14:56 | |
| Report Post | Tip |
|
Wow..wow..what more can be said than..wow.. An extremely good read, took me a while to get through it, but it was worth every petty crime and felony I missed reading it! God bless you, Godmother. |
|
| Reply by: Frankie_Gogolak at Feb 27, '09 15:01 | |
| Report Post | Tip |
|
Walking up to the front door of Gato's restaurant, Pedro began to mumble to himself. We set up a meeting, we cancel a meeting. Set it up again, and you bail. Pedro let out a sigh as he pushed the door in, which was fifty times lighter than it should have been. The door swung open and slammed into the wall beside it. Oops. With that he walked quickly to the back toward the alley, knowing that Marietta had been spotted there. As he approached the back, he saw Jax's standing in the doorway observing whatever was going on. Pushing his way past him, he caught the sight of of the Miami mobster leaving. Noticing Marietta had not seen him show up, he started to say something, when Jax spoke up in front of him. Followed closely by Macleod and Frankie, whom he had not even noticed standing in the alley. Uh, Jax, I don't see any written. And Macleod and Frankie, I'm not sure what reading the menu is doing for you... Snapping out of a confused state, he remembered about the meeting. Alright Marietta, we HAVE to get to the meeting. You had me swear that I had to drag you there! |
|
| Reply by: PedroRourke at Feb 27, '09 15:10 | |
| Report Post | Tip |
| Pedro, I understand your confusion, but I don't imagine that Miss Rossi just improvised that whole story? True, she may have had the courtesy to read it out to us, but I'm 95% sure she wrote it as a story originally. | |
| Reply by: Jax at Feb 27, '09 15:39 | |
| Report Post | Tip |
| Very well worth my time! extremely well written Godmother! | |
| Reply by: ITSJUSTAGAME at Feb 27, '09 15:40 | |
| Report Post | Tip |
| Amazing as always Godmother, Your talent puts the rest ours to shame. (I speak for myself not for anyone else) =D | |
| Reply by: BD184 at Feb 27, '09 15:44 | |
| Report Post | Tip |
|
Still VERY CONFUSED as the scene had just unfolded in front of Jax, the only thing Pedro could do was stare blankly at Jax. Shaking his head quickly, Pedro let out a big sigh. I guess that's what radio's do these days, warp the mind and distort reality... |
|
| Reply by: PedroRourke at Feb 27, '09 15:45 | |
| Report Post | Tip |
|
I look forward to when you improvise a story then Pedro, since you seem to think that's all that happens. Who writes down stories these days, it's so old hat right? Hopefully my sarcasm wasn't lost on you, you seem permanently confused. The blank face doesn't do you any favours either. |
|
| Reply by: Jax at Feb 27, '09 15:56 | |
| Report Post | Tip |
| Megoafia?? | |
| Reply by: crazyhorse at Feb 27, '09 17:35 | |
| Report Post | Tip |
|
Thats just daft CH and yeh wow very good read and i did miss quita alot of petty's and felon's reading it but never mind :) |
|
| Reply by: SkullCandy- at Mar 01, '09 14:40 | |
| Report Post | Tip |
| Very nice, you should writes books or something, it was great. | |
| Reply by: TheFugitive at Mar 01, '09 15:15 | |
| Report Post | Tip |
| nicely done. Very nicely done | |
| Reply by: MeTaL32 at Mar 01, '09 23:09 | |
| Report Post | Tip |
| Marietta, Im filing for a divorce. | |
| Reply by: Cav at Mar 01, '09 23:29 | |
| Report Post | Tip |
|
Marietta stares in horror at Cav. You take that. You take that back right fucking now. |
|
| Reply by: Marietta at Mar 02, '09 02:10 | |
| Report Post | Tip |
|
Ahem, 'you take that back', obviously. I'm not on crack. At all. |
|
| Reply by: Marietta at Mar 02, '09 02:10 | |
| Report Post | Tip |
|
"You take that. You take that back right fucking now."-Marietta Umm..I bow at your mercy miss if I am stepping out of line, but your attitude there was very arousing.. :-/ |
|
| Reply by: Frankie_Gogolak at Mar 02, '09 02:49 | |
| Report Post | Tip |
|
Gives Frankie a quick and appraising look. We'll talk later. Turns back to Cav. Don't you leave me, she hissed. |
|
| Reply by: Marietta at Mar 02, '09 02:52 | |
| Report Post | Tip |
|
Turns around and casually walks away thankful for still having his life, he quickly turns back and shouts back "Yes miss, I look forward to it!" |
|
| Reply by: Frankie_Gogolak at Mar 02, '09 02:55 | |
| Report Post | Tip |
| Post Reply | View All Threads | Page: 1 2 [ > - >>> ] |
How much do you want to tip for this post?
Minimum $20,000
Minimum $20,000
