I'm ready to beat some nurses down. I'm tired of their constant whining and carrying on. I was thinking this morning how very close I was to having a really cool job, one that was going to offer a real career option. A job that would make me a man. A made man.
Yeah, I had a chance to try out for the Mafia. I had been seen by a talent scout on the shooting range and me made me a great offer to become a hit man. A swank, uptown apartment, a lifetime subscription to Mafia Insider Magazine, and my own brand new American-made bullet-proof sedan. I made it easily through the classes, from "Introduction To Colloquial Italian" to "Etiquette of Driveby Shootings." I even aced "Extortion And Roughing-Up Of Foreign Shopkeepers." I was down to my last day, my Mafia graduation, and all I had to do was walk outside and shoot the first person I saw.
No problem. I walked out the door, turned to the left, walked one block and what did I see by a street performer. Out came the .357, *pop* *pop* and he was down. I went back to the classroom and got promptly escorted to the top guy, the capa de tui capa of Mafia U. He wanted to personally expel me from the school. Seems he got HIS start as a street performer in Italy, and was deeply offended (in a very personal way) that I had shot one of his fellow street thespians. He looked at me with those tired eyes, that jowly face, and in his best Godfather voice said:
"I'm sorry, son, but a mime is a terrible thing to waste."