They say that when you marry a woman, you marry her whole family. Now, I had nothing against joining myself to the entire McDougal clan when I married Cynthia. But I should have taken them more seriously when her father took me aside after the ceremony to say, “You’re family now. And when family calls, you answer.” I guess I should have taken the iron grip of his handshake and the piercing eye contact as a clue that he was not talking about screening phone calls.

Anyway that’s how I ended up in this cliche bar, lying to Cynthia that I was out bowling with her brothers. After skulking down a nondescript alley, George had ushered me through the hidden door into this dim, smoke filled room. And I swear, the scene could be pulled out of a movie. Every bloke in the place is stocky and hunched over their drink. Most of the figures also come complete with a bowler hat and a sneer if you dare look their way. I can’t believe the Mafia hasn’t figured out how to upgrade from this very 60’s motif.

“So here’s the plan - ” George’s voice brings my attention back to the table. George and Allen, Cynthia’s brothers, are here as well as Eddie, some cousin or another. Apparently I was being brought in on a plan to break into a man’s house, rough him up, take some cash, and then get away. “And Richie here is going to be driving the car. It’s his first time riding with us, boys, so be on your best behavior.” They all snicker in my direction and simultaneously gulp at their beers.

Clearing my throat I decided to finally say something after what feels like hours of shocked silence. “And why are we doing this again?”

“What, us telling you isn’t enough?” Comes the immediate, defensive remark from Eddie - I’d be afraid of the attitude if he didn’t look like he just started shaving this morning.

“Calm down there Eddie,” George placates. “Richie’s new to the family, we have to teach him the ropes.” Turning to me he continues, “The short answer for you is that Dad says so, and what he says goes. Period. Since we have the time, I suppose we can fill you in on the long story as well.”

And by the time George finishes his Homer-length tale about one of the women in the family who married some (apparent) scumbag in years past, and that said scumbag had cheating on her, I was sorry I asked. Don’t get me wrong, dude sounds like a total asshole - only an asshole would cheat on his wife, and on top of that parade the mistress around in their social circles. But George was awfully long winded and I had to start fighting back yawns by the end of his story. I figured it’d be in bad taste to start yawning when in the middle of my first deal with the Mafia.

I listen in silence as the three other men get the last of the details for the night set in stone. Being a silent participant seems like the best course of action for not becoming the man who gets beaten up and robbed by the family Mafia. And the silent debate in my head was still being waged - do I go along with this? It seemed like I had no choice, but could I really participate in something so clearly immoral? Especially given the idea that this seemed like just a warm up for the newbie, and I’d only have bigger fish to fry down the road.

I swear, I still hadn’t decided which way to go when they led me outside. But when I saw the silver Ferrari 250 GTO and George handed me the keys, I only had one question left.

“So what’s the address?”