Its a Dog Eat Dog World

Finally! The schmucks living in this town get some good weather. I think the good Lord realized that we deserved some good weather after surviving the terrors of the storm the night before. Its been fittingly dreary for a few days straight now, but as I opened my eyes saw the sun doing the same over the sleepy horizon. I purposed in my head that it was going to be a day of relaxation. I turned on the TV just because the stare of my reflection in the black lifeless screen made me feel alone, isolated. The fact that Money Making Melina aka Rump Roast Rosie was lying in bed next to me didn't really count for anything because I knew after the "festivities" of last night she would be out for at least 2 more hours...bless her little heart. As I searched through the sheets for my phone I heard Monica Kaufman reporting on the damnedest thing. I turned the volume up, to take a better listen, and felt a slight stir in the covers from Rosie, so I put the captions on to see what was going on. Apparently, a hobo was struck by lightning. I knew that this in and of itself was a very rare occurrence. Seriously, what are the chances of that!?! Then, as I read on, all feelings that had potential to turn into sympathy, fled when they reported his location during the time of the storm. This prick was standing in a TREE! Who does that!?! Everybody knows that the number one rule in a storm is DON'T STAND UNDER A TALL TREE. This ignorant schmuck climbed the damn thing. It would have been easier to have just dropped a toaster in the bath with him. But that probably wasn't news worthy, so I settled that his way out was better. At least he got his 15 minutes of fame.
Speaking of minutes, I cant believe that I still haven't found my phone! Then, as if on que, it rang and disclosed its location. It was Oscar inviting me and Lefty to a little early bird meat sampling get together. I asked him the reason for the urgency, and he told me that he just got the nicest "New York Strip" to have ever set foot in his shop and he wanted us to come see a sample of its money making potential for the loyal participants in the back room activities of the butcher shop. Perfect! A little early morning entertainment was just what I needed to start my day of complete and total relaxation.

Lefty and I arrived at the Oscars around 10:00 to find a car that we had never seen before parked behind the Escalade. We exchanged looks of suspicion, and decided to drive around the block one more time, just in case there was a tail or this was some sort of trap. I pulled the fully automatic out from under the seat and tucked it firmly into my waistline. We walked in to the back room at full attention, only to find Oscar taking shots of Hennessy and puffing on a cigar with a satisfied grin on his face. This dog must really be something to have him so excited. And when I looked to my left, I saw the prettiest, most ferocious looking door that I have ever seen in my life. It was beautiful. I asked whose dogs was going to be the competition, and he told me that an old friend of his named Marcus Manuel was providing the opponent......Marcus Manuel......? Why did that name sound so familiar? I know that I have heard it before, but I just couldn't put my finger on when. Then it hit me! The black van, the thugs, the bridge, the interrogation room. The thug that we took into the interrogation room told us that some Colombian prick had sent him and the other henchmen. While he still had his teeth, he mentioned the name Marcus Manuel. I didn't try that hard to conceal my epiphany from Oscar because the Hennessy was doing all the work for me. I shared my revelation with Lefty, and before I could even finish, he left the shop and went to the car to grab a few "items" that he thought might come in handy. Oscar boomed across the room, "Marcus just called. He said he should be here any minute. I wish he would hurry up! I can't wait to get this battle started. The way he's been bragging on his dog, there's bound to be an all out war in here. I'm talkin about a fight to the death! Only one of these monsters is leaving this room alive."
How right you are my friend; how right you are...

The life i live...

The life I live... I tell you something, it takes a freakin soldier to live the life i live. I was feeling like i needed a drink, so i retreated to my sancuary, also known as the bar. Recently i had noticed that this broad has been hanging around more so than usual. Lefty told me that she was a dancin chick that went by the name of Rosie...or M. Rose. It didnt matter, i never used strippers real names anyway. The stage names were so much more appetizing. Lets be serious, would you rather throw money at Melinda, or Tasty Toya? For me that was something exotic and was definitely a turn on. I figured that i would grace her with some conversation and then make a proposal. I had a good feeling that she could make a lot of money for herself and me (mainly me) if i put her to work. Over the course of my lifetime i had made the proposition so many different times, that by now i had it down to a science. Its really pretty simple. Its all about the dough. Just tell the chick about the non-taxed oodles of money that they would be raking in, and the rest is history. She did the whole "hard-to-get" bit and told me to leave my number and she would contact me after she was able to sit down and think about the offer. Said she had a friend named Chloe that she used to go to school with that she had to discuss the matter with. She told me Chloe was always the one with the better judgement; Uptight even, but friends are friends just the same. Apparently this decision was "too important to answer on the spot." I had heard it all before. I knew she was hooked.

Just as the converstaion was coming to a close, Lefty walked in with an ice cream sandwhich. What the hell kinda mobster eats freaking ice cream sandwhiches!?! He told me he was about to come into the bar when the ice cream came rolling through, with a strong following of overly anxious grade school student. He looks at me and tells me, "Who can resist an ice cream sandwhich?" Can you believe this shmuck!?! Lefty had to have been the meanest ice cream sandwhich eating Italian on the entire east coast. The life i live...you couldnt make this shit up if you tried.