Find Big Fat Fanny Fast (27 page)

Tanya turned to her brother and smiled. “My bag is heavier than your bag.”

“What do you expect?” Junior Junior said. “
There’s
ten times as many Chinese in New York City than there are Italians. I think, considering the odds, the Italians are holding up their end of the bargain pretty good.”

Tonya was not amused. “Yeah, but you got the Dominicans, the Puerto Ricans, the Russians, the Albanians and every other ethnic groups in the city too. We've only got the Chinese.”

Junior Junior smiled. “Yeah, but you got about an extra three millions illegal Chinese people living in the five boroughs.”

“So?”

“So you know as well as I do that Chinese people only bet with other Chinese people. We have to compete against the Dominican gangs, the Russian gangs, the Albanian gangs, yata, yata yata...”

Tanya smiled. “You sound like Elaine from Seinfeld.”

Junior put his hand up, like a cop stopping traffic. “Come on kids, stop this baloney.”

“But she started it,” Junior Junior said.

“I don't care who started what,” Junior turned to his son. “Phone both your grandfathers and tell them to come over for their weekly splits. Then I want the both of you to set the table in the dining room, while your mother and I finish preparing the meals.”

“Aye-
aye, pop,” Junior Junior said. “Consider it done.”

A half hour later there was a knock at the front door. Junior opened the door and in walked Tony B, now seventy five years old and counting. With him was his lovely and now almost svelte wife Big Fat Fanny, who over the years had slimmed down to a mere wisp of a girl, presently at just a bit over 400 pounds, which she carried well on her six-foot, six-inch frame. She was wearing a smart black, pin-stripe pants suit, favored by lady lawyers.

“Fanny, you look beautiful.” Lily said.

“Thank you,” Big Fat Fanny said. “I got it at Lane Bryant.”

“She's lying,” Tony B said. “She bought it at Omar the Tentmaker.”

Big Fat Fanny silenced her husband with a sharp elbow to his ribs.

Junior handed his father an envelope filled with hundred dollar bills. “Ten grand, your weekly cut as usual.”

His father slipped the envelope into the inside breast pocket of his sports jacket. “Now I have just enough moolah to buy steaks for my wife for almost an entire week,”

Big Fat Fanny elbowed him in the ribs again. “You know I eat mostly chicken and fish now. Steaks only once in a blue moon.”

Tony B rubbed the pain from his ribs. “Yeah, so I'll buy a large lake stocked with fish and a small chicken farm. That should feed you for a few weeks.”

Before she could reply, someone knocked at the front door. Junior opened the door and in walked an aging, but now slender Hung Far Low, with his thirty year-old blond wife Heather, who was built like the personal fitness trainer she actually was.

Junior handed his father-in-law a stuffed envelope. “Ten grand for you too.”

Hung Far Low took the envelope and handed it to his wife. “Buy shrimp this week. The jumbo ones. And lots of boneless pork spear ribs.”

Heather took the envelope and put it into her purse. She addressed the room. “Don't forget guys. 8 am tomorrow morning. In my gym. We have one hour of power cycling to do.”

“How many bikes did my wife break already?” Tony B said.

“Five,” Big Fat Fanny said. “But who's counting?”

“Don't worry, we have plenty of spare bikes,” Heather said. “The main thing is for all us to stay healthy, by working out five days a week and by eating properly.”

“Why don't you all go into the living room for a few drinks, while Junior and I finish making dinner,” Lily said. “The kids have already set the table and they are both freshening up.”

Junior and Lily disappeared into the kitchen, while the four grandparents went into the living room.

“You three sit. I'll make the drinks at the bar,” Heather said. “Vodka martinis as usual?”

“Make mine white wine,” Big Fat Fanny said.

“Yeah, she'll have a case of Pinot Grigio,” Tony B said.

Another Big Fat Fanny elbow to Tony B's ribs. “Don't be cute.”

Tony B winced. “Meengya, she's putting dents all over my body.”

Tony B and Big Fat Fanny sat on a jumbo white leather couch. Hung Far Low sat in a white leather love seat opposite them.

Heather came over with a tray of drinks and handed them out. “Two Sky Vodka martinis for the men. Two white wines for the ladies.” She sat next to her husband on the love seat.

Tony B took a sip of his martini. He spoke to Hung Far Low. “You know, thinking back over the years, we are really lucky my son and your daughter hooked up in the first place. The last twenty-something years, you and me have done nothing but sit back and rake in the cash.”

“Yes, we have been extremely lucky,” Hung Far Low said. “Under our children's management, our businesses have prospered, without even a hint of violence. Not one person has been killed on either side in over twenty years. I don't count the crazy Fukien gangs who sell all the drugs. My Chinese crew has nothing to do with them anyway.”

“That's right,” Tony B said. “Maybe we've issued a few beatings to those who got out of line, but nobody's died on either side in a long time. And in our business, that's fuckin' amazing.”

“Hey, watch your language,” Big Fat Fanny said. “There’s ladies in the room.”

Tony B bowed. “Sorry, I was getting better at watching my tongue, but that one slipped.”

“From now on, I want five bucks for every curse word out of your mouth,” Big Fat Fanny said.

Tony B pulled a roll of bills from his pants pocket. He counted out five twenties and handed them to his wife. “
Here!
That should cover me for the next half hour or so.”

Big Fat Fanny took the cash and stuffed it into her bra. “Don't worry. I'll let you know when this runs out.”

Tony B took a sip of his martini. “Getting back to what I was sayin'. The fact remains all the other Italian crews, in New York and in New Jersey, have been whacking each other left and right. Over stupid stuff. Mostly drug related. Something we don't get involved in at all. And because we ain't into drugs, we don't have no rats either. All the other crews have been singing like canaries.”

“Yeah,” Big Fat Fanny said. “I haven't whacked anyone in such a long time, I probably forgot how to do it.”

“I doubt that,” Tony B said. “Besides, with all the weight you lost, where would you hide the weapons anyway?”

“Keep it up,” Big Fat Fanny said, “And I start practicing on you.”

“Keep it up? Now who's talking dirty? Give
me
five bucks.”

“Take a walk,” Big Fat Fanny said.

Hung Far Low sipped his martini. “But you are right, Mr. Tony B. Since we both laid down the law against dealing drugs so many years ago, things have gone rather smoothly for us. The Chinese gangs in other cities are either killing each other, or their members are doing long stretches in prison.”

Junior entered the room. “OK folks, dinner's ready. Let's abscond into the dining room.”

They all stood and followed Junior into the dining room. The rectangular table was set for eight. Tony B and Hung Far Low sat at opposite heads of the table. And their wives sat to their right. Four carafes of red and white wine dotted the table.

Lily and Junior entered the room carrying platters of foods. Junior put one platter between his father and Big Fat Fanny. “Whole wheat Lasagna. Just like you like it.”

Lily placed a large platter between her father and Heather. “Home-made Chicken Chow Mein. The very best in Chinatown.”

“What are you guys eating?” Tony B said.

“The same as the kids,” Junior said.

Junior Junior and Tanya came into the room, each holding two hot plates. “Steaks, medium rare coming up,” Junior Junior said. “With asparagus hollandaise.”

He placed two pl
ates on the table in front of his parents. Tanya placed the other two on the table in front of her and her brother's chairs.

Tony B poured himself and Big Fat Fanny each a glass of red wine. “Oofah, look at this. From Lasagna to Chicken Chow Mein. And now to good old American steak dinners. What a great world we live in.”

Hung Far low poured white
wine
into his and his wife's glasses. “Yes, our cultures are foreign and different. But now, thanks to our children, we have assimilated our families into the mainstream of America.”

“
Almost
the mainstream of America,” Junior said. “Our family business isn't exactly US Steel Corporation.”

“It's more like US
Steal
Corporation,” Tony B said.

“That ain't funny,” Big Fat Fanny said. She poked her elbow into Tony B's ribs.

“My freakin' ribs again,” Tony B said. “You gotta stop poking my freakin' ribs.”

Junior clinked his fork on his glass, like they do at weddings. “Listen up people. We do have one slight problem. Maybe two slight problems.”

“I don't think I want to hear this,” Tony B said.

“It's not the end of the world guys.” Junior said. “But this is something we'll have to address sooner, or later. Otherwise...”

“Otherwise what?” Big Fat Fanny said.

Tony B turned towards his wife. “I think the
otherwise
may mean you'll have to polish off your guns and sharpen up your knives again.”

Junior took a sip of wine. “It may not come to that. But let me start at the beginning.”

TO BE CONTINUED AT A LATER DATE.......

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