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As I crossed the busy street, I prayed for a car to hit me, or an anvil to drop out of the sky. You know, Wile E. Coyote style. Unfortunately, I wasn't that lucky. As I opened the door to the restaurant, I realized I was going to have to go through with it. There was no way out.

The restaurant was an Italian joint: checkered table cloths, lousy opera music in the background, a man barking orders at people in a thick New York accent. The whole nine yards. It was where we always met. A pretty little thing with short blond hair and a shorter skirt showed me to my table. I watched her carefully as she walked away. Okay, maybe stared is more like it.  So shoot me. Skirt like that in a place like this? Tell me she's not asking for it.

"Everything alright here, son?" I felt my face turn red. I knew that voice. They were early.

"Martin. Yes sir. Just fine."

"You sure? He looked like he was about to fall out of his booth there for a second, didn't he Sammy?"

"Sure did, boss."

"Mind if we uh.. sit down for a minute?" He wasn't really asking. This was a sort of game he played every time I came by to pay him a "visit."

"No, of course not. Go ahead." He and Sammy slid in across from me.

"So you like Sandy, eh? She's a hot one, ain't she Sammy?"

"Sure is, boss." Sammy had this grin on his face. This sick grin. Like he knew what was coming. Like he and the "boss" had a secret.

"She's alright," I said nervously.

"Let's get down to business, shall we? You got the envelope?"

That was fast, I thought. I am so screwed.

"Say Martin. Here's the thing.." I started.

"Oh no. Don't start in with that 'here's the thing' business. We don't like 'here's the thing,' do we Sammy?"

"Sure don't, boss."

"Do you have the envelope or not?"

"Um.. not." I hung my head. "You're gonna kill me now, aren't you?"

"Kill you? Sammy, he thinks we're gonna kill him. We're not gonna kill him, are we Sammy?"

"Sure aren't, boss."

"Not yet at least. You better have a really good excuse, though. And it better not start with 'here's the thing.'"

"I do. I swear. I went to pick it up, but the guy didn't show."

"Didn't show? Tommy? I find that hard to believe. Tommy's never missed a drop in his life. No, here's the thing. I think you didn't show."

I stammered out something about missing the bus and how sorry I was.

"Well you got that right. You're one sorry individual. Why don't we go talk outside?"

"I uh.. I don't think that's such a good idea, Martin. I've really got to get back home. My mom is waiting for me."

"Aww, did you hear that Sammy? His moms is waitin' for him. Ain't that sweet?"

"Sure is, boss."