No, I’m a crowned ... well, tiara-ed monarch, Vincenzo’s crown is in the vault, La Contessa gets a tiara. But no, I’m the one who gets to CALL U...ON The People for stuff. Pipe. Bowl, Fiddlers Three, the Death of an Enemy of San Finzione; all that. He’s supposed to be an elected official but with all the shit America puts up with from him, you wouldn’t notice. HE gets to ask nicely for things and maybe we’ll see. Let him call me ‘unfair’ like everything else. That’s what every bully who’s been. "Hey, I'm just trying to be friendly. No need to get rude." "Sure you are," retorted the fat one. "Waving your penis in our faces, advertising your wares. You're looking for a quick fuck, just like every other guy in this city. Well, you're not going to find it here. Go back to your balcony and masturbate if that's what gets you off...and don't say you don't do it, we see you every day." I was flabbergasted. I had no idea they had seen me. I must have turned twelve shades of red. "I-I-I'm. More

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