Huile dropped his hands and stared at me with a look of confusion and concern. "What do you mean I am going to die?" He asked.
I pulled out a chair for Huile, and motioned him to sit. "Well, you see, that oil you've been drinking all day is poisoned," I replied.
"Po...ppo...pppo...ppppo...pppppo...Poisoned?" The Frenchman asked.
"Yes, Monsieur," I responded. "Poisoned. Now please, sit."
Huile took a seat, and I leaned against the wall next to him. "I orchestrated all of this today, Huile," I started. "You see, five months ago I tried to expand my card business to France. It was meant to start my international takeover in card sales. Things were progressing nicely, and I was assured by most of the French Business Board members that I'd be voted in."
I stopped speaking for a moment to find my French guest staring up at me in shock and fear.
"But one person on the board voted no," I said with a smirk. "Do you know who that was?"
Huile gulped. "I'm sorry."
"You should be, you crepe eating, penguin looking, soon to be dead dummy," I replied in a mocking tone. "My henchmen distributed those letters inviting each of you here today. I included two checks for one million dollars in my letter to Bruiser, and asked him to slip one into our waiters pocket upon arrival as payment to kill you and the cowboy. Little did Bruiser know that he was actually paying Bistros to murder him and his boss-"
"But why kill Soriano?" Huile interrupted.
"Because that cocky cowboy stole the land that I was going to use to expand my business to California," I explained. "I had everything set, and suddenly I received a call from the California Business Board notifying me that my land was purchased in cash by some 'Take 5 Candy Bar' distributor. Well, I got to the bottom of it, found out that it was Soriano's company, and plotted my revenge."
I noticed Monsieur Huile beginning to fade. He didn't have much time before the poison would stop his heart and send him to the French version of the after life.
"I'll speed things up for you, Huile," I said. "The boss was a competitor of mine in New York City. He runs the Memorabilia Shop 'NYC Bat and Balls,' where their slogan is to "choke up on the competition,"" I explained. "I couldn't handle the rapid growth of his business, so he had to go."
I turned to find Huile losing consciousness. His eyes closed, and his lifeless body fell to the floor.
"Another one bites the dust."
Vegas walked over to Huile and lightly kicked him in the side to check for signs of life. "So tell me something, Daddy," Vegas muttered with a slight sense of concern. "Are we still OK?"
I chuckled. Vegas always made me chuckle. This knucklehead was supposed to go into business with me, and we were going to open a shop in Las Vegas. But instead, he used the money for gambling and when he won big, he joined forces with Planet Hollywood and opened a "Pluto Motel," in the same location that was meant to be my Vegas store. My henchmen tracked him down and threatened to take his knee caps if he didn't do right by me. Vegas flew to the dinner today with a ten million dollar check in his pocket, meant to pay me back for his betrayal.
"We'll be OK once you hand over that check," I said.
"Ok, no problem, Daddy. Here you go."
Vegas handed me the check and I inspected it thoroughly to ensure that every zero was there. "Looks good, Vegas. But you're still a liability, my friend. Bruiser, do the honors."
Suddenly, Bruiser rose from his slumped position on the table, grabbed Vegas by the neck, and proceeded to fold Vegas' body like a pretzel.
"Good work, my friend," I said. "You really had them believing you were a goner."
Bruiser shrugged. "It's all thanks to our experience in the Alter Boy's Society," the bodyguard replied. "Playing dead is one of our strengths."
Just then, the swooshing sound of a helicopter could be heard above the restaurant.
"Sounds like your ride has arrived, Daddy," said Bruiser.
"Thank you for all you've done, Bruiser," I answered. "I'll send you word once I've landed."
Bruiser nodded at me before hoisting The Bosses body over his shoulders, exiting the restaurant and disappearing into the town. Meanwhile, I found my way to the back room and took the staircase up to the roof where my helicopter was waiting.
"Hello, Bistros," I announced upon entering the chopper.
Bistros didn't say a word. He just smiled and nodded before ripping a skin toned band aid from above his lip, revealing his fuzzy muzzy.
"Time to fly," I said. And as Bistros lifted the helicopter into the sky, I removed a detonator from my pocket, pressed a red button, and the building beneath us went up in flames.
"Now that's a spicy meatball." read more