“Put your hand in your pocket like you have a gun,” Michael Corleone told Enzo the Baker, reaching over to flip up Enzo’s collar like a button man’s. “Don’t be scared.”
Slowly, a sedan pulled up in front of the hospital. “Hey,” the driver said, squinting out the window, “Isn’t that the Don’s kid? The wuss who doesn’t want be in the family business?”
“Yeah,” said the backseat passenger, “But who’s that with him?”
“Ummmm… hey! That’s Enzo the Baker! Aww, look at him playing gangster!”
“Jesus Christ! Does he have a gun?”
“Who? The yeast-huffing wuss, or his ‘My daddy’s a meanie’-whimpering asshole buddy?”
Gunfire erupted from the sedan, and Michael and Enzo went down in a hail of Thompson fire.
————————–
“I’m done talking about it, counsellor!” Sonny Corleone shouted around a mouthful of sausage and peppers, “We’re going to the mattresses, and we’re taking out that son-of-a-bitch Sollozzo!”
“I hope that’s not your final answer on this, Sonny,” Tom Hagen said evenly.
“My final answer? Fucking right it’s my final answer! That fucker hit us too hard to ignore! We’re going to war, and business be damned!”
“Sorry, Sonny,” Clemenza said, “But that’s not going to happen. My soldiers have certain expectations about what’s involved in working for the family, and going broke so you can go on some vendetta ain’t one of them.”
“But… I’m Sonny Corleone! My father built this family!”
“Yeah, he did, but The Don’s in a coma after that last bullet. And as caporegimes, the guys who really rally the troops, we’ve decided which Corleone we want running things.”
The door opened. “Hi, fellas!” Fredo said chipperly, “Boy, I can’t tell you how glad I am that you think I’d make as good a Don as my pop! I’m really looking forward to – ”
“Shut the fuck up and wait outside until we call you, Fredo. We’re working in here.”
Fredo stepped outside. “You want Fredo to be in charge? Jesus Christ, Tessio; the fucking kid’s been on the front lines once, and he dropped his gun and ran like a fucking girl the minute the shooting started! The only bones he’s made were the ones he stuck in cocktail waitresses dumb enough to believe he was Joey Bishop!”
“Yeah, but the kid has two qualities that the soldiers want. First: he’s got the Corleone name.”
“What’s second?”
“Hey guys,” Fredo called through the door, “You think I should have a drink or listen to the radio while I’m waiting for you?”
“Why don’t you do both, Fredo?” Tessio called.
“Oh, boy! It’s great to be the Don!”
————————————–
“Okay… Sollozzo had Pop and Mikey killed, so we should send the boys after them,” Fredo said. Tessio and Clemenza stared blankly at him. “…Right?”
“Don Fredo: Sollozzo is just one guy. You think whacking one guy is gonna make the Corleone family safe? The real question is: who’s backing him?” Tessio said.
“Right. Of course. So… who IS backing him?”
“Victor Stracci. Vic’s got the trucks, and we have the unions; it’s a natural beef. My guys tell me that he’s the most likely guy to be making a play against the Corleones. He’s obviously backing Sollozzo.”
“Wow… are you sure about that?”
“It’s iron-clad, Don Fredo. We’ve got pictures of their trucks in Manhattan the week the Don and Michael got shot. Why would they have hauling trucks in Manhattan if they weren’t in on the hit?”
“Hey… if we took out the Straccis, I’ll bet we could get control of their trucking! And then, not only would we be taking care of… what’s his name who shot Pop and Mikey, but between the unions and the trucks, you guys could make a lot of money!”
Clemenza’s face went wide-eyed and innocent as he said, “Why, I had not thought of that, Don Fredo! While we would only be attacking the Stracci’s to avenge his obvious support and aide of Sollozzo, the control of shipping would be a happy, accidental bonus!”
“All right,” Fredo said, “Tell the boys: we’re going to send them some mattresses! Now, what should I do first? Put something in their beds? How about… some horseshit! That’d be funny as hell!”
“I’ll tell you what: why don’t you go out to Vegas and relax? Spend some time with Moe Greene, maybe work the floor with the real pit bosses, and let us handle this, Fredo.”
“That’s Don Fredo. Don’t forget: I’m the consigliere around here.”
“Actually,” Tessio said through a rictus grin, “Tom Hagen’s the Consigliere. With all respect. Now here’s some chips from the Frontier.”
“Oh boy! I’m a casino guy!”
——————————–
“Don Fredo – ” Tom Hagen started.
“Hey, Tom; we’re in Vegas. We’re on vacation. Why so formal?”
“Okay, listen, Freddy – ”
“Um, who said to stop calling me Don Corleone? I like the sound of it. It makes me feel big, like Pop.”
“…Don Corleone, I’m begging you… before you give the order, just stop and think a minute, okay?” Tom said. “Make Sollozzo your target. No one I’ve talked to says that Sollozzo’s got any close ties to the Stracci’s. For YEARS, the Stracci’s are strongarm artists – ”
“You want to see strong arms? Check out these guns,” Fredo said, rolling up his shirt sleeves.
“…they’re strongarm artists with just enough pull in Jersey to stay in business. They’ve got a lot to lose by backing Sollozzo, getting a reputation as a narcotics dealer, and standing against the Corleones.”
“Damn right they do… and they’re gonna! Vic Stracci tried to kill Pop! He’s gonna sleep with the feces! Did I tell you that I told Clemenza to put horseshit in his – ”
“Freddy! Think! Everyone knows that Sollozzo put the hit on Pop! If you go after Sollozzo, they know we’ve got a legitimate beef, and they’ll leave us to it. But if you hit Stracci without proof that he backed Sollozzo’s hit, the Five Families are gonna unite against us! We don’t have the kind of muscle to withstand that kind of a war!”
“Jesus… how can you betray me like this, Tom?”
“Betray you? I’m trying to help you!”
“Hey Paulie,” Fredo called over his shoulder, “How do you feel about hitting Stracci?”
“Makes sense to me, boss. It makes a hell of a lot more sense than going after, say, Bruno Tattaglia.”
“See?” Fredo said to Tom, “Paulie’s loyal. He’s the kind of guy I need backing me up here. But you, you keep undermining me and cutting me down and telling me my ideas are bad. If I’m so stupid, how come the blackjack dealer keeps folding whenever I play him?”
“Don Fredo… Your father… Pop… would never hit – ”
“You leave Pop out of this!” Fredo screeched. “Pop didn’t know every Goddamned thing! Pop thought I was dumb! If Pop was so smart, he’d still be in charge! But he’s not! I’m in charge, and I’ve gotta sit here and listen to you badmouth me for not thinking things through!”
Clemenza opened the door “Don Fredo, sorry to interrupt, but could you sign – ”
“Give it to me!” Fredo shrieked, signing the paper without breaking eye contact with Tom.
Fredo…” Tom said, “I’m your brother – ”
“You’re not my brother! You’re a Corleone in name only!”
“…my name’s Hagen – ”
“You’re out! I’m making Paulie Gatto my consigliere! He would never betray me or the family!”
—————————-
“All right boys,” Fredo said chipperly, “How goes the… hey; where’s Clemenza?”
“You didn’t hear?” Tessio said. “He retired. He’s signed on with one of the papers as their organized crime expert. He named Frankie Pentangeli to take over his crew. Say hi to the Don, Frankie.”
“Don Fredo, we need to hit the Rosato Brothers, now!”
“…who?”
“They’re the biggest threat to this family that there is!”
“Okay, okay; we can probably do that, but how are we doing against the Straccis?”
“Well, up and down, Don Fredo,” Tessio said. “Our first hit on their rail yard in Jersey went perfect. They didn’t know what hit them. But now they’ve gone to the matresses, and every third truck of theirs that we try to hijack is a Goddamned ambush. We’re losing guys left and right.”
“Well… can’t we just blow up all their trucks? Hell, blow up all the trucks!”
“Don Fredo, even if we had the muscle to do that, the cops would be all over us. And we don’t have the muscle. We haven’t been able to recruit any new button men; any kid with any brains isn’t gonna take on with a family under this kind of siege.”
“What about the guys we already have?” Fredo asked.
“A lot of them are sneaking out in the middle of the night,” Tessio said, “They’ve been at the mattresses for a long time now, away from their wives, getting shot at trying to hijack truckloads of cigarettes that turn out to be truckloads of pissed off Stracci button men, and they’re sick pissing all over their bellies whenever they hear a truck backfire while they’re jacking off.”
“And that’s why we’ve gotta hit the Rosato Brothers!” Pentangeli rasped, “They’re, um… they’re bad! They’ve, um, been selling guns to the Straccis!”
“Jesus Christ! Are you sure?” Fredo asked.
“Uh… Yeah, yeah! Clemenza’s people told me! There isn’t a doubt!”
“That’s good enough for me. Tessio: let’s blow up the Rosato Brothers.”
“Don Fredo, we… we can’t. Our cash flow’s down to a trickle. The Stracci’s have been hitting our books, sabatoging our union jobs, and taking out our biggest earners. Just last week, Rocco Lampone got shot eating at Angie’s by some mick cop name of McCluskey; cop said Rocco was going for a piece, but the poor bastard was only holding a cannoli. Rocco should’ve left the damn cannoli… anyway: our people aren’t safe anywhere.”
“Well, it’s the same for the Stracci’s, right?” Fredo asked.
“Not exactly, Don Fredo. The other Four Families have fallen in with Stracci. They’re sending him soldiers and they’re backing his ambushes financially. Bruno Tattaglia himself chopped off Al Neri’s cock; poor bastard has to sit down to take a piss now.”
“HA HA HA HA! That’s it; next time I see Al, I’m calling him ‘Stumpy.’ But anyway; at least we’ve got Luca Brasi out there, pulling out fingernails to find out where the attacks are gonna be, right?”
“Um, actually… Virgil Sollozo just sent us this.” Pentangeli put a large fish wrapped in a bulletproof vest on the table.
“That’s a Sicilian message,” Fredo said quietly, “You send a Sicilian message back to Sollozo: thank you very much, but I don’t like fish.” Fredo turned to Tessio. “Well, at least we’ve paralyzed Sollozzo, right?”
“Actually Don Fredo, Sollozo’s found support with the Tattaglias and the Barzinis. They’re distributing his product and making a mint. They’ve been able to buy all the manpower and firepower they need to keep Stracci afloat for as long as it takes to break us. Plus, Sollozzo’s become a symbol that you can hit the Corleone family and get away with it. He’s more powerful than ever now.”
“And that’s why we gotta hit the Rosato Brothers!” Pentangeli yelled, “We need to show the world that the Corleone Family has the balls to take out whoever looks at us funny!”
“Okay, I’m the Don, it’s my decision, and I’m convinced,” Fredo said, “Tell the buttonmen that they’re staying at the mattresses for as long as it takes, and find out where the Rosato – ”
Paulie Gatto threw open the study door. “Don Fredo… your father. He’s awake. He wants to talk to you.”
—————————-
“Pop?” Fredo said, approaching the bed.
“Fredo… how did things go so far? So far…” Vito Corleone rasped from his bed.
“Pop, I’ve been running the Family since you’ve been gone. I’ve been doing a real good job. I took out Stracci, which you were never able to do. We’ve got control of his rail yard, and as soon as we can stop the ambushes, we’ll be able to get his trucks and expand our influence, which is something that you always said – ”
“Fredo… you’re my son and I love you. Maybe I should have said it more when you were a bambino, and we wouldn’t be in this… infamita.”
“But Pop – ”
“You allowed an enemy of the Family to walk away free, making the Corleones look like a paper lion. You’ve broken the peace and given our enemies an excuse to ally against us in a war we can never win. The city police are beginning to circle us with indictments, our long-time political friends have abandoned us, and our treasury is nearly empty.”
“But I did it for – ”
“You did it for nothing!” The Don hissed. “Santino may have been a hothead, but he had the sense to keep his eye on the ball. Your brother Michael probably had the brains to turn this whole Sollozzo business into an opportunity. But you? You’ve always been a good boy, Fredo, but you let your advisors control you without ever asking the most simple question: who profits?”
“But it’s not my fault! Clemenza and Tessio were your people, and they told me that the Stracci’s were funding Sollozzo, and that taking them down was the road to taking the Corleone’s worldwide! What was I supposed to do?”
“You could have acted like a man! What’s the matter with you?’ The Don roared, then mincingly whined, “‘Oh Pop, Clemenza and Tessio told me to do it! And it’s not my fault I stink like a fish because Clemenza and Tessio wouldn’t wash my privates for me!'”
Fredo straightened up and said, “Say what you want about me, but at least I’m not the kind of leader who gets his privates rubbed on the job. Besides: you can’t talk to me like that! I’m the Don! I’m in charge, not you!”
“Not anymore. I’ve spoken with the Commission and I’ve sued for clemency against you. You’ll be abdicating control of the Family to one of Capone’s boys from Chicago. He’ll be coming in today to take over and try to salvage something of this mess. You’ll sign the Long Beach compound over to him.”
“But… what about me? Where am I gonna go?”
“Anywhere. Nowhere. It doesn’t matter. All the Commission cares about is that you’re gone by the end of the day.”
Fredo slumped, and slouchingly walked toward the door. He then turned and said, “You’ve gotta believe me, Pop… I did the best I could. I did everything I could to live up to your legacy and keep the Corleone family great. I inherited bad circumstances when I became the Don. No one ever had to deal with the things that I had to deal with, so I tried to make the tough decisions with nothing I could look back to to tell me how to handle it. I got bad advice from my capos. People turned against me. How am I responsible for that? When this is all said and done, I think people will decide that I made the best of an impossible situation.”
The Don sat up and sighed. “You’re right, I suppose. History will judge you. But Fredo?”
Fredo leaned toward his father expectantly.
“I know it was you, Fredo,” The Don hissed. “You broke my heart.
“You broke my heart.”
[tags]George W. Bush, Dick Cheney, Inauguration Day, political humor, dark humor, parody, satire[/tags]
