I never know how these things wind up in my inbox. Perhaps the Hollywood writer types have been drinking too many caffeinated beverages again….
INTERIOR DAY: DON POLLOI’s ornate office on a sunny Thursday afternoon. Drapes are closed but some shafts of light peek in. DON POLLOI is in a suit, savouring a large cigar. Several muscular men in dark suits ring the walls, their hands clasped in front of themselves. Two chairs are across from the Don’s desk. The Consigliere enters.
CONSIGLIERE: These are the two I told you about Don Polloi, the ones with the fakackta money thing. They’re with Georgie’s crew out of DC…
DON POLLOI: I talk with them for a moment, but just a moment. I don’t spend time with cafones like that so much
The Consigliere nods towards the double doors of the office. Two of the meatier bodyguards put a hand in their suits, open the doors and beckon the guests in. HANK THE SNACK and BENNY THE GEECH enter, heads bowed low, eyes darting from side to side and approach the two leather chairs in front of DON POLLOI’s desk.
DON POLLOI: Sit down, sit down. My friend here tells me you are associated with my good friend Georgie in DC. His father and I go back a long time…
HANK THE SNACK: Yes, we know Papa well. He speaks with respect and reverence of his relationship with you Don Polloi.
BENNY THE GEECH: He is a man of importance Don Polloi and a man of great dignity, as you are Don Polloi.
DON POLLOI: So why are you visiting me on this fine fall day when I could be busy with my many affairs of This Thing of Ours.
HANK THE SNACK: It’s about the money Don Polloi. We got a thing here. It’s a good thing…
BENNY THE GEECH: It’s a really good thing Don Polloi… it’s really good…
DON POLLOI: Everything is about money with you two. Everything. Or pussy, Money or mona is that all you two know from?
HANK THE SNACK: This one’s not about pussy this time. We need some backing for a money thing.
BENNY THE GEECH: It’s a money thing, like he said.
DON POLLOI: So explain this money thing.
BENNY THE GEECH: You know from banks that do investments Don Polloi? Well, they got themselves in shit up to their armpits
HANK THE SNACK: Like wearing a shirt and everything up to their armpits in shit
BENNY THE GEECH: Like he says. So’s they need a place to hide some of the shit, so they can go out in public again.
DON POLLOI: So’s a bank gotz shit. I care from shit how?
HANK THE SNACK: It’s like this. The banks need us to buy their shit and clean’em up so’s they can go to Dalluca’s and look like respectable men again. They wanna sell us this shit and if we buy it, they can be respectable again. Loans, like you know?
DON POLLOI: Loans I understand. Back in the day we’d loan some mook Twenty bucks on Monday and by Friday the vig would have him in for Forty. He’d pay Forty to get Twenty and that’s a good business.
BENNY THE GEECH: But this is not like Forty for Twenty, Don Polloi. This is bigger…
DON POLLOI: So why do you come to me with your ‘bigger’. You work for Georgie’s crew right?
HANK THE SNACK: Yes we do Don Polloi…
DON POLLOI: And you come to me before you go to your own capo?
HANK THE SNACK: It’s a little difficult Don Polloi
BENNY THE GEECH: It’s that injury of his Don…it’s that thing what he has.
DON POLLOI: Ahh. Papa Georgie told me of his thing. With the brain right?
BENNY THE GEECH: It’s a thing we don’t talk about you know? He gets, like you know?
DON POLLOI: Like with the towel head right? Stunata…
HANK THE SNACK: It’s, ahh, you know, from delicate like we don’t talk about it.
DON POLLOI: I understand. So does your capo know you have come to me?
BENNY THE GEECH: Papa does. He was the one who said we should talk with you about our thing, with the utmost respect, as it is in your territory, you know, with the Comissionone.
DON POLLOI takes a long drag on the cigar and sips from a crystal balloon glass of amber liquid
DON POLLOI: So if Papa Georgie says you should come to me with this thing, then it is the thing that we should talk about.
HANK THE SNACK: So it’s like we need to buy from these banks this stuff they don’t want no more, the strunza loans from barabi. They sell them to us and we sell em back later.
BENNY THE GEECH: But we sell the strunza back to the cafones with brains like a shekoo
DON POLLOI: So this I can understand now. You need some help up front and you get some back on the end. For this you come to me for help?
HANK THE SNACK: It’s a big number Don Polloi.
BENNY THE GEECH: It’s a really big number Don Polloi…
DON POLLOI: Stu cazzo you two fools. From big numbers I can do. How big?
HANK THE SNACK: 700 Billion, give or take
DON POLLOI: Madrone de mia! 700 Billion? You’re stunata! Both of you. Let me think now.
BENNY THE GEECH: For this we make by twice on the back end
DON POLLOI: What do you mean we by twice we make it up?
HANK THE SNACK: We sell it back to them next year. They said they’d buy it back
DON POLLOI: They said they’d buy it back for twice? And you believe them baboo?
BENNY THE GEECH: It’s like he said Don Polloi. They gave their word as men of honor and bankers.
DON POLLOI: (To himself) U pesci fet d’a testa. What kind of idiot do you two think I am for to get involved with bankers? Minche e cuaddu ti coddidi e seghidi i dentisi!
HANK THE SNACK: But Don Polloi….
DON POLLOI: You offend me with your dealing with bankers and their word and then you ask me for 700 Billion to buy their strunza and maybe make it back twice over next year? What kind of baboo do you take me for. Chiddu arrusti u so pesci nte ciammi di l’incediu! Get out of my fucking office. Sta migna!
Two beefy bodyguards step forward, hands in their suit pockets, right behind BENNY THE GEECH and HANK THE SNACK. BENNY and HANK now recognize they are in deep trouble.
BENNY THE GEECH: But Don Polloi, it’s not our idea. We were just coming to talk with you
DON POLLOI: Whaddaya mean it’s not your idea. What kind of strons give you this idea?
HANK THE SNACK: It’s complicated….
BENNY THE GEECH: Really complicated….
DON POLLOI: What some stuppaghiara from Philly? You two are all money and pussy and no brains… Tony?
The meatiest of the bodyguards puts and arm around the neck of HANK THE SNACK in a headlock and drags HANK’s arm out and stretches it across DON POLLOI’s desk. HANK tries to fight back but knows that he can’t out-muscle Tony.
DON POLLOI: You tell me right now, who the fuck came up with this shit?
DON POLLOI pulls a very large cleaver out of his desk drawer and pulls it back as if to chop off HANK THE SNACK’s hand.
HANK THE SNACK: Don Polloi, I beg of you, on the eyes of my children. I have been sworn to silence by a thing.
BENNY THE GEECH is now entangled in the arms of the second bodyguard who has BENNY’s arms pinned behind his back.
BENNY THE GEECH: It’s true. It’s a silence thing for swearing.
DON POLLOI raises the cleaver higher
BENNY THE GEECH: OK, Ok Don Polloi. I’ll tell…I’ll tell. It’s (sobbing) Don Cheney from Wyoming. He’s the brains behind our capo who told us about this thing. Then Don Cheney swore us to silence, as we would burn as the paper would burn. Oh God….
DON POLLOI drops the cleaver on the desk in disgust then flops in his chair. DON POLLOI looks off out the window muttering for a second.
DON POLLOI: Don Cheney…the minchia. Fuck. Goddam meco from out west. Bruno!
The CONSIGLIERE hustles up to the side of DON POLLOI. They exchange a few whispers as HANK and BENNY exchange terrified glances. TONY has not let HANK move his arm from the desk yet.
Suddenly DON POLLOI snatches up the cleaver and chops the hand off of HANK THE SNACK who screams ferociously and bleeds all over the desk. TONY loosens his grip on HANK’s arm just enough to let HANK pull the bleeding stump towards his chest, then TONY snaps HANK’s neck and lets the body drop to the floor.
BENNY THE GEECH: Jesus Madre di Mio Don Polloi, don’t kill me! Don’t kill me!
DON POLLOI pulls the cleaver out of the desk top and tests the blood smeared blade.
DON POLLOI: I will not kill you Benny. He will.
DON POLLOI nods to the other bodyguard, as a piano wire garrotte goes around BENNY THE GEECH’s neck. He is strangled.
DON POLLOI: Consigliere. We need to send a message to Don Cheney. This hand should suffice. If he’s going to try this shit, we go to the mattresses. If he wants a war, we give him a war. Putana!
DON POLLOI pushes the severed hand of HANK towards the CONSIGLIERE with the cleaver then tosses the cleaver to the desk top with a sigh. DON POLLOI crosses to the window and looks out on the day.
DON POLLOI: These fuckers never learn.
RoadDave 