Daddy Needs a New Pair of Shoes

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Daddy Needs a New Pair of Shoes

Post  Constrictor on Fri Feb 27, 2009 7:32 pm

Ray Gotti and Eddie Hawkins sit in the first row ringside, seemingly oblivious to the screaming fans all around them.

Ray Gotti runs his hands through his kinky hair, nearly yanking it out in frustration. “You cost me a lot of money, giving away those tickets for the Pay-Per-View like that. I don’t have that kind of ready cash, you know? You cost me a lot of time and money. There's a certain lack of respect; a certain lack of trust. What am I gonna do about you, Eddie, huh? What happens if Planner learns I’m hard up? There are a whole bunch of people just waiting for me to fail.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, not bothering to look over at Gotti as he responds. “Ray, two things. First, you’re not a gangster, however much you want people to think you are, so stop quoting gangster movies. It makes you seem even more pathetic than you are. Second, you should think of the tickets as a “business expense”. It brought more people to the show, so you win in the end. What’s wrong with that?”

“I’m hawking kids’ toys now just to pay for new suits, Eddie. This is gonna come out of your salary for the next tag team match, capice? You know how many hats I gotta sell just so I can pay for these shoes? They’re Berluti’s. Robert DeNiro wears ‘em. They cost sixteen-hundred dollars on sale. On sale, Eddie. Berluti’s don’t go on sale. I was on my hands an’ knees beggin’ the manager, ‘cause I couldn’t afford ‘em. You always been a thief, an’ now you’re stealin’ right outta my pocket. I oughta have you fitted for a pair of concrete shoes.”

Eddie starts to respond, but Gotti shushes him as the TitanTrons suddenly cuts off, the gigantic screens filling with snow. “Dis is gonna be good. I hired a hacker to bust in to the feed an' show this. Cost me a pretty penny, too, but I should be able to cover it with the money it’s gonna make me.”

The TitanTrons cut back on, Gotti’s hair filling the screen. The camera pans down, then down farther, until his face stares back at the crowd. It finally zooms out to show him standing in front of a merchandise table—all of it promoting The Constrictor. The camera shakes slightly but regularly; it is obviously shot with a hand-held camcorder.

“Hey, kids! Tell your mom to take you down to the merchandise stand during intermission—heck, tell her to do it now! You can get all this great stuff—t-shirts, posters, even action figures …”

Constrictor

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