It was getting harder and harder for Chief to ignore the fact that he was trying to take something that wasn’t rightfully his and give it to someone who had absolutely no intention of doing anything good with it; it was all for money and power. 

Aldo stepped back into the room. “Meatball sub’ll be out in a minute.” He pulled up a chair and sat down across from Chief and Joe. “So, when do you boys want to start?” 

Joe licked his fingers. “Start wha—ouch!”

Chief had kicked Joe under the table. He wanted to hear what Aldo had to say first, and he didn’t want Aldo to think that they didn’t know what he was talking about. 

“What did you have in mind?” Chief replied casually.

“I’ll start you off with delivery,” Aldo said. “If you do well, we’ll move you into the kitchen.” 

Chief tapped his chin, like he was mulling over the proposition, but really he was trying to figure out how they’d pull this off. Aldo wanted them to deliver pizzas. Only problem was, they didn’t have a car, and Joe couldn’t possibly deliver pizzas on foot, and neither could he leave Joe on his own or who knows what he’d say or what trouble he’d make. 

Chief cleared his throat. “Well, we’re very appreciative of the opportunity, but we left our car—” 

“Fuhgeddaboudit,” Aldo said. “You can use my car.” He pointed out the window. 

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