Here is a transcript of how that conversation went:
Mr. Corleone, striding into the owner's box, with a Mr. Clemenza, Tom Hagen, and several other "businessmen." Carlo Cashman glances up from the phone he is dialing.
MC: Who are you calling, Carlo?
CC: (alarmed) Look, I told you, all it will take is a market correction—
MC: Big G Stanton is done. So is Jackie Donaldson. D.J. LeMahieu. Severino. Nasty Nestor.
CC: (starts to whimper) We don't KNOW if it's a rotator cuff yet—
MC: Ah, today we finish all family business, so don't tell me you really think this. Judge is out. How long, we don't know—
CC: Oh, God!
CC: Not Frankie Montas! (bawls uncontrollably)
MC: Effross. Trevino.
CC: Don't you mean, "Trivino"?
MC: Oh, yeah, right: Trivino. Willie Calhoun popped a hammy the other night.
CC: Hey, there's plenty of season left!
MC: Forget him, he was a dumpster dive anyway. Rodon is never going to pitch. Gleyber...is gonna be Gleyber. Rizzo is a wreck.
CC: (sniffles) Okay.
MC: Gary Sanchez is on the coast. Hicks is in Baltimore. Then there's Ellsbury. Andujar.
CC: All right, all right, I get it already.
MC: Thairo Estrada. Joey Gallo. Greg Bird.
CC: What's your point???
CC: (puzzled) I thought the A's were going to Las Vegas.
MC: (looking back at his associates) What, that's a done deal? That's really happening?
HAGEN: (shrugging) It is, Mikey.
MC: Nobody tells me anything around here. They're gonna make guys play in a 110-degree heat? And what about the taxpayers of Oakland? What's wrong with people these days?
(Sighs in disgust, stands up) All right, then. I didn't want to do this. But I have to bring in another friend of ours to tell you where you're going then, Carlo. Don John Sterling?
A powerful, towering figure appears in the doorway.
STERLING: That's right, Carlo! You'll be going to Riverwalk, a senior community at the Hebrew Home for the Aged!
CC: No, NO! Anything but that!
Clemenza and others wrestle him out into a car and throw him into the backseat. The Godfather music swells up. MC calls after him.
MC: What, you thought you could fool a Yankees fan with this little comedy of a team you were playing?!
Bravo and Brava!!
ReplyDeleteIf only there were any toll booths left around to set up an ambush at. Golly garsh darn it!
ReplyDeleteIf only Sonny was still alive to beat him with a trash can or two.
ReplyDeleteNot that I'm suggesting anyone should actually do such a thing.
*cough*
@ Hoss, "Clemenza and others wrestle him out into a car and throw him into the backseat."
ReplyDeleteThe only thing I'd change is I'd throw him into the open trunk and slam it down.
Hammer,
ReplyDeleteWouldn't you wrap him in old rug before throwing him in the trunk?
@ Rufus, In the immortal words of the Master, I should be whipped, flogged, and flagellated. Yes, almost forgot an old rug, plus the Columbian necktie and concrete boots! He should look spiffy on his last trip.
ReplyDeleteIsn't the columbian necktie fitted after the ride?
ReplyDeleteAsking for a goomba.
Too funny, youze guyz are in rare form tonight!
ReplyDeleteActually, Rufus, they fit it during the ride. In the movie. Here, we don't want Cashman dead. Just...retired. And where better than Riverwalk?
ReplyDelete