Vinnie’s Dad Tries to Score Points With Vinnie’s Mom – Opps!

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Vinnie’s mom stares at Vinnie. Vinnie looks everywhere but at his mom. Vinnie says, “How was work, Dad? Get any mob guys off?”

“I don’t work for the mob.”

“I get it, Dad. You get anybody off?”

Yes, I got a case dismissal today. There’s no proof my client works for the mob.”

“Who was it, Dad?”

“Gino Carbone. Enough of my work, Vinnie. Mom asked you a question,” says Vinnie’s dad believing he scored points with Vinnie’s mom.

Vinnie’s mom says, “Don’t think you scored any points.”

“I didn’t? I don’t understand,” says Vinnie’s dad.

“Dad, I’m glad you got Gino off, he works in Uncle Mike’s kitchen. He makes all the pizza dough when he’s not doing other stuff for Uncle Mike. Uncle Mike’s pizza is the best in the city,” says Vinnie.

Vinnie’s mom says, “How do you know all this stuff about Uncle Mike and people who work for him? I don’t know this stuff. Al, do you know this stuff?”

Vinnie’s dad shakes his head, “When Gino told me he was the dough maker for Mike, I assumed he was talking about making money for Mike.”

“How did you get him off?” asks Vinnie’s mom.

“On a technicality.”

“I guess you’re all done with me, right?” asks Vinnie.

“No,” says Vinnie’s mom.

“Gee, Mom. I want to get to bed early so I’ll be ready for the first day of school,” says Vinnie.

“It’s only six fifteen,” says Vinnie’s mom.

“You know what you’re always telling me about the early bird, Mom,” says Vinnie.

 

Meanwhile Back at School . . .

 

“What’s he doing now?” asks Dr. Cashman.

“He’s cracking his knuckles,” says Lori. “He has the biggest fists I’ve ever seen. Now, he’s looking at his watch. I think it’s a Rolex. He’s sitting down. He’s picking up a magazine. He’s opening it. He’s putting it over his face. I think he’s going to sleep.”

“We’re trapped,” says Mark Doolittle. “I haven’t made out a living will. Lori, if you need an eye transplant, you can have my corneas.”

Lori Smith turns away from the spyhole, “My eyes are okay. Do you know if they can freeze kidneys? If they can, I want one of your kidneys. I’m not selfish.”

“What is he doing?” says an exasperated Dr. Cashman.

Lori peeks through the spyhole, “He’s sitting down. He’s stretched out his legs. He has the biggest feet I’ve ever seen. I wonder if he ever kicked anybody with them.”

Dr. Cashman says, “Let’s not panic.”

“I’ve already panicked,” says Mark Doolittle.

“Me too,” says Lori.

“We’ve got no choice, we’re going to have to talk to him,” says Dr. Cashman.

“Begging your pardon, Dr. Cashman, I believe Mr. Ricci wants to talk to you. You know how mob guys are, everything is off record and not recorded. He might check you for a wire. Are you wearing one?” says Mark Doolittle.

“No, I’m not wearing a wire. I want both of you with me when I speak to him. Lori, go ask Mr. Ricci to come in the office.”

“Do I have to?” asks Lori.

Dr. Cashman tries to recall what is was about Mark Doolittle and Lori Smith that made her hire them. She can’t come up with an answer.

Mark Doolittle interrupts her thoughts. “Excuse me, Dr. Cashman, I believe I’ve come up with a solution.”

“You have?” asks Dr. Cashman.

“Yes. Pete the custodian is working an extra shift to help get the school ready for tomorrow. Call him on your cell phone and ask him to pull the fire alarm. By state law we’ll all have to leave the building and we can go home.

 

 

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