Donnie Garrison – A Deep Cover Thrill Ride

August 28, 2013

Falazzo exploded into the room, practically reducing the door to firewood. He was angry. Real angry. And he wasn’t shy about showing it.

‘They knew we were coming! How the heck did they flipping know we were coming?!’ Paulie and Donnie followed their boss in, nursing bruises, gashes and gun-shot wounds – but fearing worse was still to come from a furious Falazzo. ‘How the heck did they know? Any of you bloodysilly billies care to enlighten me as to how the police knew we were comin’?!’ Falazzo was doing remarkably well to stick to his Lenten promise to give up swearing. But don’t let this fool you, he was really, really mad.

‘Maybe one of you guys is a fink.’ Falazzo drew his tommy gun.
‘Take it easy, boss.’ Paulie waved his palms at Falazzo.
‘Yeah, it makes sense, don’t it? How else they gonna know what bank we’re about to boost? Huh?’
‘Co-incidence?’ offered Paulie, turning pale.
‘Ain’t no such thing. Reach for the sky,’ growled Falazzo. ‘Both of ya.’ Paulie and Donnie made a collective gulp sound. Kind of a stereo-gulp. ‘So… which one is it? Which one of you wise-guys is the rat?’

‘Come on, boss. I’ve known you since I was a little kid,’ pleaded Paulie. ‘We used to go to ball games together. You’re my son’s godfather. I gave you a kidney that time. I mean, you weren’t even ill. Come on.’ Falazzo thought about it and nodded. ‘I mean, boss, what do we even know about this guy, huh? He only joined the family a week ago. His moustache keeps falling off. And the guy keeps getting Italian things wrong. I mean how can you mispronounce pizza? It’s gotta be him.’ Falazzo was starting to to look convinced.

‘Well, what’d you got to say for yourself, Donnie?’ Donnie cleared his throat.
‘What he’s sayin’ is all true, boss. Yes, I did join the family after winning that cereal box competition.’
‘I still don’t remember runnin’ that.’
‘Yes, my moustache does slip off occasionally. But that can happen when you have oily Mediterranean skin. And yes I did accidentally call it a pizzo. Guilty as charged. But I’m not a rat.’ Falazzo was wavering, confused. ‘Listen, boss. What do we know about this guy? Sure, you’ve known him since he was knee high to a comoli. But there’s still lots we don’t know about him.’
‘Like what?’ growled Falazzo.
‘Well for instance… his… favourite song? How can we truly know a man who consistently withholds details about his personal life?’
‘OK. Paulie, what’s your favourite song?’ sighed Falazzo.
‘Fields of Gold by Sting,’ Paulie proudly proclaimed.
‘Well, there you have it. Just as I suspected.’ Donnie folded his arms conclusively.

‘What are you talkin’ about, Donnie?’ Falazzo was growing impatient.
‘Em… well… isn’t… that what the cops call an undercover operation? A sting?’
‘Ha. How could that possibly mean anything?’ Paulie laughed. ‘That’s just a co-incidence.’
‘Ain’t no such thing! Right boss?’ Falazzo grimaced as he tried to consider all the evidence. Donnie struck while the iron was hot.‘AND… and… didn’t Sting used to be in a band called the Police? I mean that’s an awful lot of co-incidences, boss. Sounds to me like anyone listenin’ to Fields of Gold is probably taking part in a sting on behalf of The Police.’

Maybe it was the compelling sounding argument or maybe it was that Falazzo hadn’t eaten in several hours and was desperate to get this interrogation over with, but he seemed to be swayed. Paulie turned properly pale.

‘Oh wait, boss! No, please!’
BANG! Paulie slumped to the floor, very dead.
‘Good work, kid. You’ll be made for this. Oh, your eh, moustache is eh…’
‘Oh, right. Thanks, boss.’

Following Paulie’s execution, John Garrison spent another six years infiltrating the Falazzo family. His testimony led to the indictment of over 300 mobsters. He celebrated his success with a delicious glass of Chee-anti.


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