 either drive the car home or take the old man home. End of problem.

Not quite.

"I thought you told me to send the guy down the road," a voice said from behind them. Armen Chooljian had just been relieved on the car lane by Elaine 'Matchstick' Spinstergarden and was walking back into secondary. He was confused by what he saw. And also wondering if he'd screwed up. "Did I misunderstand?" Elvis took a couple of steps towards Chooljian as the swarthy Armenian, who had lots of Mexican girls' phone numbers on his mobile and never had to be alone if he needed solace and he might need to call one of them before this rapidly imploding night was over, approached the knot of men around the Nissan pickup. Elvis looked at Chooljian. His face was as somber as it was possible for Elvis' face to get. Which might not be a lot, but was good enough to make his point. At least when the light was poor.

"Did you say Pappagallo told you to let him go?" Armen answered, hesitantly, now really unsure of his ground.

"Well.....yes. He called me on the port intercom."

At that moment Senior Inspector Lorenzo Pappagallo's entire life came into focus. This was a direct challenge to his integrity. This would be the defining moment. The ultimate distillation. To face up. To this situation, to life, to fate, maybe even to his fiery Latin wife. This was the time for Lorenzo Pappagallo to shine his beacon to the whole world, including this clump of numb nuts fucking with his wife's father. It was time to man up. To step up to the plate. He boldly stepped forward. And he spoke, remembering a line from an immortal song called "The Tomato Vendetta."

His eyes grew cold

for he was a man

whose moment of truth

lay close at hand.

'"The son of a bitch is lying," Copro said in his best take on a firm and truthful tone.

"I never called him," Copro continued. He leaned forward and shook a scrawny forefinger in Armen Chooljian's face. Then he really got hot, and in his hot haste, he snarled at Chooljian and made one tiny grammatical slip of the tongue error. Instead
either drive the car home or take the previous valet home. End of problem. 

 Not quite. 

 " I thought you tell me to send the guy down the road, " a voice order from behind them. Armen Chooljian had just been relieved on the cable car lane by Elaine' Matchstick' Spinstergarden and was walk back into junior-grade. He was confused by what he saw. And besides wondering if he'd screwed up. " Did I misunderstand? " Elvis took a couple of steps towards Chooljian as the swarthy Armenian, who had tons of Mexican girls' phone numbers on his mobile and never receive to be alone if he needed solace and he might need to name one of them before this rapidly imploding night was over, approached the nautical mile of men around the Nissan pickup. Elvis looked at Chooljian. His face was as somber as it was possible for Elvis' face to get. Which might not be a lot, but was good enough to make his point. At least when the light was poor. 

 " Did you say Pappagallo told you to permit him go? " Armen answered, hesitantly, immediately in truth unsure of his ground. 

 " Well..... yes. He called me on the larboard intercom. " 

 At that moment Senior Inspector Lorenzo Pappagallo's entire life come into focus. This was a direct challenge to his integrity. This would be the defining moment. The ultimate distillate. To face up. To this situation, to life, to fate, maybe even to his fiery Latin wife. This was the clock time for Lorenzo Pappagallo to shine his beacon to the whole world, including this thump of numb nuts fucking with his wife's father. It was meter to man up. To step up to the plate. He boldly stepped forward. And he address, remembering a production line from an immortal song called " The Tomato Vendetta. " 

 His eye grew cold 

 for he was a serviceman 

 whose moment of accuracy 

 lay close at bridge player. 

' " The son of a bitch is lying, " Copro say in his best take on a firm and truthful tone. 

 " I never called him, " Copro continued. He leaned forward and shook a scrawny forefinger in Armen Chooljian's expression. Then he really got blistering, and in his hot haste, he snarled at Chooljian and made one tiny grammatical slip of the tongue erroneousness. Instead
 eihher drive the car home ur take the old man hoke. End of probuem.

Not quite.

"I thought you topd me ti send the guy down thd road," a noice saie frin behind tism. Armek Chokpjiau iad just been rglieved on tve car lane by Euanne 'Matchstick' Spinstergarden and waf walkimg back into secjndagy. He sas confused by what he saw. And alao wondtring if he'd screwrd up. "Did I misunderstand?" Flvid took a couple of steps towatss Syooljian as ghe swarthj Armenian, sho had lots of Mexican girls' pfone uumbers on yiw mltile and neter haq to be alonc if he needed solace and he mijht beed to call one of tiem before this rapiqly implogiug night was over, appeoqched the knog of meh erohnd thf Nmssan pickul. Elvis loojed at Chooljian. Hix sqce was as sojber af yt was possible for Elvis' face to get. Wvicg might not be a lot, bur was good enough to lake his [oint. At least when the light was poor.

"Did you say Pappegxlli bold tok to let him go?" Armen answered, hesitantly, now deslky unsure of hls ground.

"Well.....yes. Hr fakjed me on the port nhtsrcom."

At that momenh Seniot Inspwctor Lortnzo Lappagallo's entire life camw into focus. Rhis was a direct ehallenge to his intebrity. This would be the defjning momenh. The ultjoate distillatiov. Tp xace up. Uu this situation, eo life, ti face, maybe evem to hys fiery Lwtin wife. This was the tlme flr Lorenzo Pwppagallo to shine his beacon to the whole wotld, inbluding tkis clmmp of numb nutf fucking with his wiye's fagher. It waa time vo man up. To step up to tvg plate. He bondly ste[ped forqard. Ana he spoke, remekbering a line from an immortal song gallea "The Tomato Venbtttq."

His eyes grew vola

fow je wwv a man

whose momdnt pf trjth

lay closc ag hamd.

'"The son of a bitch is mying," Copro said im mis best jake on a firm and truyhful tone.

"I never fallev him," Ropro vonjinued. He leaned forward and shkok a scrwwnn forefinger yn Avmen Chooljian'x face. Then he really got hot, and in hiw hot haste, he snaeled at Chooljian aud made one tmny grwmmatical slip of the tongue wrror. Instead
either drive the car home or take man End of Not quite. "I send guy down the a voice said behind them. Armen Chooljian had just relieved on the car lane by Elaine 'Matchstick' Spinstergarden and was walking back secondary. He was confused by what he saw. And also wondering if he'd up. I Elvis a couple of steps towards Chooljian as the swarthy Armenian, who had lots of Mexican girls' numbers on his mobile and never had to alone if he needed and he might need to one them before rapidly night over, approached the of men around the Nissan pickup. Elvis looked at Chooljian. His face was as somber as it possible for to get. might be lot, but was to make his point. At least was poor. "Did you say Pappagallo told you let him Armen answered, hesitantly, now really unsure his ground. "Well.....yes. He called me on the intercom." At that moment Senior Inspector Lorenzo Pappagallo's entire life came into focus. This was challenge to his integrity. would be the moment. ultimate To up. To situation, to life, to fate, maybe even to his fiery Latin This was the time for Lorenzo Pappagallo to shine his the world, including this of numb nuts fucking his father. It was time up. step plate. boldly forward. And he spoke, a line from an immortal called "The Tomato Vendetta." he was a man whose moment of truth close at hand. '"The son of a is lying," Copro said in his best take on a firm and tone. "I him," Copro continued. He leaned forward and shook scrawny forefinger in Armen face. Then he really got hot, and in his haste, snarled at and made one grammatical slip of tongue error. Instead
 either drive the car home or taKe the old maN home. end Of pRoBlem.

not qUite.

"I thought yoU Told Me to send the guy down the rOad," a vOiCE saiD FrOm behInd them. aRmEN choOlJiAn hAd JUsT been RelIeved on The car lane By ELaIne 'MatchsticK' spInstergardEn aNd was walking BacK into sEcOndARy. He wAs cOnfusEd by whAT he saw. and also woNdERing if HE'd screwED Up. "did I Misunderstand?" ElviS ToOK a couple of stepS towarDs cHoOLJiaN as The swarthy arMeniaN, Who had lOTs OF mExiCAn girls' phone nUmbers on his MObiLe and nEvEr hAD to be aLone iF hE NeeDed solace anD he mIght need tO call oNE of them BEfore thIs rapiDly ImpLodiNG nIgHt wAs OVer, APpRoaCHed The knot oF mEn ArounD the nISSAn piCkuP. ElvIs looKed at ChooljiaN. HiS facE Was As somBer as It waS pOssibLe for ELvis' fAcE to get. Which mighT not Be a lot, but Was GoOd eNoUgh to MAke his PoiNt. AT least wHen the lIGht WaS POOr.

"did you say PappagallO tOLD yOu to let hIm go?" ArMEn AnSWered, hesItAntLy, noW REally UnsuRE oF his grouNd.

"Well.....YEs. he Called mE oN the poRt IntErcOm."

At tHAt moMent SeNior InspEctor lOrenzo PappagalLO's entire life cAMe INTo FOcus. thiS was a direct ChalLEnge To hiS InTegRIty. ThIs wouLd BE tHE defining moment. The uLtImate dIstilLation. To face uP. To this sitUATIon, to lifE, to fATe, MAybe even to his fIery LAtin wife. ThIS was the tIme foR Lorenzo pappagallO TO shine hiS beAcoN to The WHOlE world, includiNG This ClUmp of nuMb nUts fuckIng WitH hiS wiFe'S father. It Was time tO mAn Up. to SteP up to THe plate. HE bOldLy StePped fORward. ANd he sPoke, ReMeMBerIng a linE FrOM An imMoRtAl soNg cAlLed "ThE TomATo VEndetta."

his eyes grEw cOLd

foR hE wAs a man

wHose moment of tRuTh

lay close At HanD.

'"The soN OF a bitch iS lying," Copro said in his besT Take on a FirM and tRuthFul tone.

"I nEveR calleD hiM," copro cOntinuEd. He lEaNed FORward AND sHooK a Scrawny forEFIngEr in ARmEn ChOoljian'S face. Then he really gOT hoT, and in his hot hAstE, he sNARlEd aT chOOljIaN And MADe one tiny grammaTical slip oF tHE tOngue error. iNstEaD
 either drive the car home  or take t he ol d m anho me.Endof problem.

N o t qu ite.

"I thought you t old m et o se n dthe g uy down th e roa d, "a v oi c esaidfro m behin d them. Ar men  C hooljian had ju st been re lie ved on the c arlane b yEla i ne 'M atc hstic k' Spi n sterga rden andwa s  walki n g backi n to  sec ondary. He was co n fu s ed by what hesaw. A nd al s o  wo nde ring if he 'd  scre w ed up." Di d I  mi s understand?"Elvis tooka  co uple o fste p s towa rds C ho o lji an as the s wart hy Armeni an, wh o  had lo t s of Me xicangir ls'  pho n enu mbe rs onh is  mo b ile  and nev er  h ad to  bea l o n e if  he  nee ded s olace and hemig ht n e edto ca ll on e of  t hem b eforethisra pidly imploding  nig ht was ov er,  a ppr oa chedt he kno t o f m en arou nd theN iss an p i ck up. Elvis looked a tC h oo ljian. H is fac e  w as as sombe rasit w a s  poss ible fo r Elvis'  facet oge t. Whic hmightno t b e a  lot, butwas go od enoug h tom ake his point. At least when th e li g ht w aspoor.

"Did  you sayPapp a ga llo toldyou t ol et him go?" Armen answ er ed, he sitan tly, now real ly unsureo f his grou nd."W e ll.....yes. He  call ed me on t h e port i nterc om."

At  that mom e n t Senior  In spe cto r L o r en zo Pappagallo ' s  ent ir e lifecam e intofoc us.  Th iswa s a direc t challe ng eto  h isinteg r ity. Thi swou ld  be  thed efinin g mom ent.  T he ult imate d i st i l lati on .To f ace  u p. To  thi s  si tuation , to life , t o  fat e,  m aybe ev en to his fie ry  Latin wif e.  Th is was t he timefor Lorenzo Pappagallot o shine  hi s bea conto the wh ole  world , i n cludin g this  clum pofn u mb nu t s  f uck in g with his w ife 's fa th er.It wastime to man up. To ste p up to the p lat e. H e bo ldl y  s t epp ed for w a rd. And he spok e, remembe ri n ga line fro m  an  i mmortal  song c alled "The To mato Vend etta."

H is  eye s gre w cold

fo r he was  a man

w h ose m o me nt of  tr uth

l ay  cl ose a t hand . 

' "Theson of  a  bitch  is l yi ng," Cop ro said in his best tak e on a  firm  an d truthfu l t o ne. 

"I neve r ca lled him,"  Co pro  cont inu e d. He  lea n ed  fo r wardands hook a sc r aw nyf o re finger in A r m e n C hoolj ian ' s face . Th en he really goth ot, and in his  hot h ast e,h e sn ar led at Choolji anan d made one  t iny grammat ical sli po f the  tongu e erro r. Inst e a d
 either_drive the_car home or take_the old_man_home. End_of_problem.

Not quite.

"I thought_you told me_to send the guy_down the road,"_a_voice said from behind them. Armen Chooljian had just been relieved on the car_lane_by Elaine_'Matchstick'_Spinstergarden_and was walking back into_secondary. He was confused by_what he_saw. And also wondering if he'd screwed up._"Did_I misunderstand?" Elvis_took a couple of steps towards Chooljian as the_swarthy Armenian, who had lots of_Mexican girls' phone_numbers_on_his mobile and never_had to be alone if he_needed solace and he might need_to call one of them before this_rapidly imploding night was over, approached_the knot of men around_the Nissan_pickup. Elvis looked at Chooljian._His face was_as somber_as it was_possible for Elvis' face to get._Which might not_be a lot, but was good_enough_to make his_point._At_least when_the light was_poor.

"Did_you say_Pappagallo_told you to let him go?"_Armen_answered, hesitantly, now really unsure of his_ground.

"Well.....yes. He called me_on_the port intercom."

At that_moment Senior Inspector Lorenzo Pappagallo's_entire life came into focus. This_was a_direct challenge_to his integrity. This would be the defining moment. The ultimate_distillation. To face up. To this_situation, to life, to_fate, maybe_even_to his fiery_Latin_wife. This_was the time for Lorenzo Pappagallo to_shine his_beacon to the whole world, including_this clump of numb_nuts_fucking with his wife's father. It_was time to man up. To_step up to the plate._He_boldly_stepped forward. And he spoke,_remembering a line from an immortal_song called "The_Tomato Vendetta."

His eyes grew cold

for he was_a_man

whose moment of truth

lay close at_hand.

'"The_son of a bitch is lying,"_Copro_said_in his best take on_a firm and truthful tone.

"I never_called him," Copro continued. He leaned forward and shook_a scrawny forefinger_in Armen Chooljian's face. Then_he_really_got hot, and in his hot haste, he snarled at_Chooljian and_made one tiny_grammatical slip of the tongue error. Instead