Chapter Eight:  NOT SO FUNNY

     The day they wacked Freddy Nocoscia, his brother, Benny, Benny "The Tic", naturally because of his twitch, his eyes winking, was under a truck getting ready to change the oil.  He heard the chitter chatter on the radio, then he didn't hear anything.  Benny, Benny The Tic, one eye winking like a pop up toaster, slid out from under the truck and walked over to the radio in dispatch.

     His idiot cousin, Patsy, sat next to the radio, his eyes glazed over, thinking, hmmm, I should be in fuckin' Bermuda right now.

     "Patsy, what's goin' on with the truck and the cops over there?"  Looka' this jerkoff, he don't know what the fuck I'm talkin' about.  Benny the tic ticking right now more than somewhat, snatched the radio off the desk.

     "Base to Freddy, come in Freddy.  Silence.  A tic, a tic.

     "Come back Freddy, where you at?"  More silence.  A tic, a tic, a tic.

     Benny sorta' turned around, looking outside as two cars rolled up to the front gate, smashed through the gate and started to head towards the office.  Benny might have been ticking, but he was no dummy.

     "Fuck."  Benny threw the radio mike to the desk and took off, sprinting out the back door just as three guys (whom you met earlier) entered the front door.  The three guys just busy from eliminating Freddy, figured, lets while we're at it, plant a few slugs into Benny as well.

     They shot the idiot cousin, Patsy, nobody else around and they figured, well, Benny might be a tic but he ain't no fuckin' dummy.

     Benny took off, made it to the bus depot in the city, got himself a ticket to the first bus anywhere, that anywhere being Miami, Florida and away he went.  Maybe I'll catch a tan down there as I hear they got great tanning spots what with the beaches and shit like that, he thought as the bus pulled out of the depot.

     Some guy sat in the seat behind him had one of them transistor radios, which for a while annoyed Benny The Tic and he was thinking as the bus rolled down the highway, maybe I turn around and choke this guy.  Shortly, however, the news came on and Benny The Tic heard about the big mob rub out in the garbage business.

     Benny The Tic decided I ain't gonna' choke that guy, he done me a large favor, playing that fuckin' radio.  Benny, The Tic, sitting on the bus, thinking about Freddy, thinking about the business that just went up in smoke, and thinking about, well, thinking about getting himself set up down in this Miami place, start a trash  thing, and one day, when things settle down, I'll be back fellas and we'll see what we'll see.

     By the time that happened, and it did happy very nicely for Benny The Tic, growing up a pretty nice garbage hauling thing in and around Miami, things had changed more than somewhat "up there."  Since by the time that happened, Joseph was starting to run things "up there".  It occurred to Benny The Tic that the old man might be aging up and getting ready to drive himself to the big landfill in the sky, and thinking that way made Benny The Tic decide, well, the old bastard might need a shove into the fuckin' landfill.

     Benny The Tic had made quite a few interesting friends down in that Miami, many of which were persona non grata in many other places, especially in the northern climes.  He had a very favorite restaurant he went to every day, except Heaven Forbid, Sundays and he usually ate a fine lunch, pasta, and he sat with some of these personas non grata mostly form the northern climes.

     On this particular day, over a tasty bowl of Linguini with White Clam sauce with one of those personas, he was visiting an interesting fella, a guy named Patsy Shoes, being he always wore shoes which were brightly spit shined, neither rain, nor snow, nor whatever stopping the high spit shine.  Patsy Shoes bent over his bowl  of Ziti with Garlic and Oil, one of his all time favorites, and Christ, he thought, they can't make it down here like they do "up there".

     Patsy Shoes was down here since "up there" had become very hot indeed, not weather hot, but hot in that several fairly important guys in the trash business had decided that Patsy Shoes need new shoes, those new shoes being crafted with cement.  Back in the day, "up there", someplace in the Midwest, Patsy Shoes was known far and wide as a guy very handy with a gun or a piano wire and had created a nice living for himself with the gun or piano wire.

     One day Patsy Shoes had his shoes off, as a matter of fact, had all his clothing off and was showing his erect member to the ever lovin' doll face of a fairly important guy in the trash business in the Midwest.  Word of this large insult got around, how nobody is quite sure, but it caused Patsy Shoes to think, well, the Winter's up here ain't so good for my shoes what with the snow and sleet and perhaps guys tossin' slugs into me, me drippin' blood on my shoes.  He did all this thinking the very next day and that night was riding a bus, two suitcases of shoes packed, heading for Miami.

     It wasn't long before Patsy Shoes meet up with Benny The Tic, as Benny The Tic, from time to time had the need for a guy with special talents, a guy like Patsy Shoes, although by the time they met, Patsy Shoes had the reputation as the guy who liked to throw undesirables through windows of very tall buildings, of which there were many to be had.  Patsy Shoes like standing at the broken window watching the prick fall down to earth, splashing across the pavement, later the body collected with a large ink blotter, which Patsy Shoes, a man of some letters, found satisfying.

     Benny The Tic inquired how things were shaping up with Patsy Shoes and Patsy Shoes remarked, well things have slowed down more than somewhat, it seems a man of my special skills is in low demand right now, what with peace breaking out all around and about with the various organizations which mostly inquired about my services.  I can still tune a guy up for you, Benny (The Tic never spoken to his face) should the need arise, as I have retained my piano wires and keep them well rosined.  This line of conversation struck Benny The Tic as something he might look into, and the more he thought about it, the more it seemed to him, this Patsy Shoes fella might be the right guy to go and shove the Old Man into a much deserved grave.

      As they finished their meals, the deal was made and Patsy Shoes left the next day, heading towards a little, ahem, meeting with the Old Man.

     "Call me when it's done, here's my special phone number."

     Huge mistake, Benny The Tic, huge.