Tony Soprano out to fetch the morning paper

A heart to heart with the heartless

When Tony Soprano scuffed down his palatial driveway in his slippers to get the morning paper he noticed his next door neighbor, Donald, the Don, was nowhere to be seen. Usually about this time of day he’s on the other side of the thicket separating their ridiculous estates, waddling down to get his usual Grub Hub delivery of three Egg McMuffins, two hash browns and an apple pie turnover.

Not this morning.

Tony stood at the end of his driveway and waved to the eyes in the FBI surveillance van parked across the street. He looked up at the Trump estate and admired Trump’s absurd royal driveway and his ostentatious replica of a Bellagio fountain. What a boom botz. Tony looked up and down the street and muttered. Where is that gagootz? He must be at another arraignment.

Melania, dressed in black lingerie, stepped out onto the doorstep of the mansion, bent over to fetch their Sunday Times and waved down to Tony. “Mornink, Tony!”

Tony grinned and waved back thinking that broad never looked happier in her life. Donnie must be out of town at another arraignment or he’s banging some goomah.

Across the street Tony saw his neighbor, Vladimir, standing in his driveway, shirtless, in his white briefs, looking up at the morning sky with binoculars and grinning.

Tony waved and shouted. Hey, Pootie! I saw the news about Prigozhin! Last night Carmela says to me hey Tony you got to see this. And boom! I saw what you did there! Nice hit.

Putin waved back. Vat? Who, Tony? Vhat vas hiss name?

Yev-gen-y Pri-go-zhin. Pri-go-zhin. Wagner gang?

Who? Putin waved his binoculars at the spooks in the CIA surveillance van parked next the FBI van between the Sheriff’s Patrol cars that were always stationed there and made a mock shushing gesture to Tony and giggled.

Putin and Soprano walked towards each other and shook hands in the middle of the street, tugged each other in close and patted each other’s backs like survivors, like an old pair of Jersey mafioso, made guys, Capo de Tutti to Capo de Tutti.

Tony respected the old Russian Mob. But under Putin things were different. He was running a global crime syndicate on a scale Tony could only dream of. Putie. The way you handled that rat who turned on you…

Da. Never turn your back on Putie. Putin grinned and slapped Tony on the back. Tony pretended to laugh. You’re something else, Putie. Who uses a frickin’ anti-aircraft missile to whack a rat! That’s James Bond villain shit, Putie. Are you giving up poisoning your enemies and pushing them off balconies? You couldn’t have just taken him on a quiet boat ride to the middle of the Black Sea? Whatever happened to the good old days of using piano wire?

I have original piano wire from Grand Piano of Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky given to me by people of Saint Petersburg. I strangled more enemies of state with it back in nineties than Donald has outstanding charges.

Ninety-one. The boom botz is looking at 91-charges.

Tony, where is our friend, Donald?

Arraignment. Deposition. Hookers. I dunno. I thought maybe he was hiding out from the Feds in your basement, Putie.

No one laughed.

I’m kidding, Putie.

Ha-ha. Da. Dat is funny, Tony.

Vlad. You and me. We’re friends, right?

Da.

Your anti-aircraft missile hit man? Do you rent out his services?

No, Tony. He only serves the Godfather of Mother Russia. Poach my crew and you will get anti-aircraft missile right in the cannoli. Capiche?

Understood. Keep it in the family we always say.

Da. Keep in family.

Speaking of the family, I saw where you ordered everyone to sign an oath of allegiance to the Russian state. Classy.

Da.

That’s not how we Sopranos do business, Putie. We do it the old-fashioned way.

Da?

We keep it up close and personal. Our family? We take you to a secret location, we burn prayer cards, swear loyalty to the family, prick our fingers, mix the blood and bada-boom bada-bing you’re in the family for life. You snitch or betray your family and you sleep with the fishes.

I prefer loyalty oath. You give me trouble I blow you out of sky.

They both laughed and slapped each other’s backs.

Putie, I gotta ask ya whatever happened to the deal between our families to open a chain of ‘Bada Bings’ in Russia?

I have been busy, Tony. I have got rats and traitors everywhere in Kremlin.

Who’s got your back?

Vas Donnie at one time but things not lookink so good for him these days. I am doink everything I can because if he wins we both stay out of prison but it looks like Feds and Georgia are closing in on Mr. Trump. I see mug shot and think no way that orange pig weighs 215. Let’s see him without his shirt. He is no Putie, Da?

I hear that. So who’s got your back?

These days? One comrade with anti-aircraft missile launcher has my back. And these days I am not sure about him.

I got Pauly Walnuts. Him? I trust with my life. You got no Paulie, Putie?

Nyet. Nyet. You are lucky man, Tony. I trust no one. I got no Pauly Walnuts.

I got a therapist you could see…

Nyet. Listen. If you see Donnie tell Donnie I got basement available if he decides to run. And he better bring cash. Vas never good for his debts.

Will do.

Do svidaniya, Tony. Best to Carmela.

Same to yours. Ciao, Putie.