MEDDIE’S POV
I am cleaning Damiano’s office. He’s sitting here doing ‘business’, you know fretting over how many new prostitution centres to open, how much money he made from selling drugs and weapons, which mafia to ally with next. Just usual ‘business’.
‘Wow, being here is affecting our definition of normal in the worst way possible.’
‘Yeah. But aur kya kar sakte hai hum? Mafia se nikalne ka sirf ek tareeka hai, don’t you remember? Maut.’ (What else can we do? There’s only one way to get rid from the mafia. Death.)
‘Yeah, yeah. Shut up and focus on work, you debbie downer.’
‘You engaged me in conversation, you bitch conscience. Gaand maraa jaake.’ (Go fuck yourself.)
‘I’m ready. And there’s a hot piece of ass sitting right there. It’s you and your useless morals that have been delaying fucking for me.’
‘Shut up bitch!’
Is any one else’s subconscious a raging bitch?