Fat Louie barged into the room to find Joey “The Mouse” Scarpuzzi feeding a bedridden man some chicken noodle soup. “Joey, what’re you doing?!”
Joey looked up, “The Don told me to take care of Frankie.”
“I really appreciate it,” Frankie said from underneath his covers, “especially after I messed up last week’s hit job.”
Fat Louie sighed, “No, Joey. You were supposed to take care of Frankie, not take care of him!”
Joey stared in wide-eyed puzzlement. “I’m doing exactly what you said. Do you need me to fluff your pillow, Frankie?”
“Oh, that’d be nice.”
Fat Louie sighed again.
I scramble up onto Mom’s lap, and look into her big blue eyes. “What can I be when I grow up?” I ask.
