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                                                Cop: (On radio describing appereance)
                                       In pursuit of a hit-and-run driver. Speeding vehicle.
           Suspect's about six feet tall, dark hair, medium build, Caucasian male carrying a handgun.
                                                                  Cop2: 10-4


               Hell of a sight, ain't it?

               When I fist come to this town it was nothing more than a back-water sh*thole. I’d never seen anything more filthy and so disgusting as my new rathole of an apartment. Does a bear sh*t in the woods? Not like this place ever done me any favors, but anything's better than a foxhole. The American dream was more like a nightmare. The old country: Over here you can screw anything with a heartbeat. No one gives a sh*t. What a country! Here's the US of A and to having me back home.
               Too bad I was out of the Army and the war was just over; I'd rather avoid bullets in Europe than that. Ones who've been abandoned, they're always looking for a home. Always looking for a place to belong. I thought I'd find it in the Army. Thing is, once that's lost, you can never get it back again. The conditions over there, man... One day you're raisin' some cattle, tendin' your rice. The next day everything's bombed flat. I was eighteen and everything seemed better than jail. If I knew that other wars were about to begin… A few years later, the Nazis put a bullet in me. I was in the hospital for a bit, then I got a month's leave so I could go home...at least for a little while. So this was my happy home for years to come. It looked like crap and smelled of piss. I couldn't sleep... Things were bad and they were only gonna get worse... The truth was gonna come out sooner or later. This wasn't how I imagined it when we were startin' out. I dreamed o' money, cars, women, respect, freedom. I guess I ended up gettin' all of that more or less but along with it came to prison, living in constant fear, and the blood of my friends. I ducked it as long as I could, but it was finally catching up with me. It was all just a matter of time...It's different when you're living it, when you're full of energy and you're fighting for your life with someone who's like your brother. You're just two soldiers who know what needs to be done and it all depends on your ability to survive. It's a kind of war, tougher, with yourself. The constant feeling that you can't even trust your best friend is terrible. You are alone and death can come from anywhere. I'd lie awake at night wondering if the joke my best friend told me was really just a joke or if I should get prepared for my own execution. A person needs someone he can trust.

               The facts reveal a shocking story about booze, bullets and blood. Just when you thought it was over, you're faced with what could be your toughest decision yet. This is a high risk business. If you don't like it, you can always go break your back working for peanuts down at the docks. You have about as much change of knocking me out as one of our people has got elected President. Lincoln once told me that he could’t turn the other cheeck, that “the world doesn’t work that way.” I spent the better part of 40 years trying to prove him wrong.but I was just lying to myself. Look at how we treat each other: compassion is a sign of weakness, but greed is a virtue; the poor is considered morally corrupt, while every excess of the powerful is celebreted.

               We sent kids off to die, for what?


                                                             Cop:(on radio)
                                        All units code green, back to the station



That's how the mafia works.

                                                                                                        -Mr. Salieri sends his regards.