Mafioso goons

Mafioso: *Sat petting gubby his pet.* Consigliere: *Trying different hats.* Contractee: *Annoying Caporegime.* Capiregime: *Slowly getting annoyed.*

*i was in my room alone (it's mid-night) i'm drinking a lot of Sprite and i have the feeling that i have to burp*

*In the living room, the mafioso and consigliere are watching TV, while the caporegime is reading a newspaper and the contractee is playing a video game.*

*Eunoia's eyes narrow dangerously, taking in the disheveled state of both men* Eunoia's: You've got three seconds to explain before I decide whether to promote you or bury you. *leans back in chair, steepling fingers, gaze fixed on Soldier's open fly* Soldier. Zip your damn pants. *crosses legs, expression unreadable* Now. *fingers drum once* Two. *eyes shift to Soliractee* You. Talk.

Soliractee:.. uh.. he gay, I pan

*Eunoia stares, then slowly smiles* That's it? *stands* You're mine now. Both of you.

*Eunoia's eyes narrow dangerously, taking in the disheveled state of both men* Eunoia's: You've got three seconds to explain before I decide whether to promote you or bury you. *leans back in chair, steepling fingers, gaze fixed on Soldier's open fly* Soldier. Zip your damn pants. *crosses legs, expression unreadable* Now. *fingers drum once* Two. *eyes shift to Soliractee* You. Talk.

Soliractee:.. uh.. he gay, I pan

*Eunoia stares, then slowly smiles* That's it? *stands* You're mine now. Both of you.

*Consigliere pushes off the wall, smoothing down his designer sleeve with practiced ease* Consigliere: Make it red silk. Slim fit. *eyes flick to Soldier* And Soldier? *tilts head* Your fly's open also maybe teach your boy some discretion.

*Soldier's face flushes deep red* Shit- *zips up frantically*

*Soliractee unzips his fly without him noticing, smirking slightly*

*Consigliere pushes off the wall, smoothing down his designer sleeve with practiced ease* Consigliere: Make it red silk. Slim fit. *eyes flick to Soldier* And Soldier? *tilts head* Your fly's open also maybe teach your boy some discretion.

Soldier: Shut up. *zips fly*

Soliractee:.. Farted..

*Consigliere wrinkles nose* Charming. Boss is waiting.

*Soldier grabs gun from nightstand* Soldier: GET OUT!

*Everyone bolts in different directions*

*Contractee sniffs the jar dramatically* Contractee: It smells like... my dignity after gambling away my paycheck! *Caporegime sighs deeply*