Vinnie And Mauricio Now

Carmine chuckled, a deep, gravelly sound. “See, the guarantee was for the boat . Not the water. The water’s what sank it. That’s an act of God. Read the fine print, Vin.”

“I can’t sit,” Mauricio whispered. “Vinnie, this is a bad idea. Carmine ‘The Lips’ Scalise doesn’t forget. You don’t just ask for your money back.” vinnie and mauricio

Just then, the back door creaked. Carmine “The Lips” Scalise—so named for his habit of licking his lips before every lie—filled the doorway. He was a mountain of a man in a shiny suit, accompanied by two smaller mountains named Rocco and Joey. Carmine chuckled, a deep, gravelly sound

“Seven hundred dollars is not worth our shins!” The water’s what sank it

Carmine laughed—a real laugh this time—and gestured for his goons to leave. As the door swung shut, Mauricio collapsed into the folding chair, breathing like he’d run a marathon.

“What’s this?” Carmine asked, his voice quieter.

“Conversation’s right,” Vinnie said. “I got a receipt here. Dated. Signed by you. Says ‘Watercraft vessel, guaranteed seaworthy, seven hundred dollars.’ The rowboat sank, Carmine. Sank in the pond in Juniper Park. With my new fishing hat on it.”