The name’s Roberto. I wish we were meeting on a more joyous occasion, but here we are. You, taking the Lord’s name in vain while limping in pain, and me, the LEGO brick on your living room rug. Now I’m only gonna say this once so listen up: if you step on me one more time I’ll show you my shark tank, capiche?
My Uncle Vito (A.K.A. The Big Sausage A.K.A. The Red LEGO) informed me that you come around here often. You’ve got a lot of guts stepping foot on my turf. I respect stugots in a man. But if youse keep coming around these parts you’ll be the one with the instruction manual on how to piece you together.
This has been my territory for a while. I’ve been running this operation on your tacky IKEA rug since your kid crashed his LEGO Star Wars Anakin’s Podracer set into the couch. All my buddies got nabbed up by the feds (A.K.A. the vacuum), but not me. I’m a fighter. I’m also in a really tricky spot for the vacuum to reach.
Youse really think you can step all over me, a yellow LEGO brick with mob ties, and get away with it? Geez, buddy, your brain ain’t working too good. Here’s some advice: find a new route from the dining room to your kitchen. I don’t care if you go out your backdoor and back in through your front door or if you move to Vegas and start a new life as a Rain Man tour guide. You’re a smart guy, you’ll figure it out. It’s not mandatory per se, but if you don’t scram, I’ll show you where I keep some old piano wire, capiche?
Oh, so you think since I’m part of the witness protection program I’m afraid to get my hands dirty? Buddy, I may have let my fellow bricks get sucked up by the Dyson while saving my own ass, but don’t you ever forget that once a wiseguy, always a wiseguy. If I need to get lodged in your dog’s throat to teach a lesson, so be it. I’m not afraid to make a little mess. I’m a LEGO, it’s in our plastic to be messy.
Listen, I’m no civilian—I’m a rogue LEGO brick. I’m a made guy. Youse ordinary folk would be smart to remember that.
I hear your pleas. “Please, Roberto, I’ve got a family! I’ve got a beautiful wife Catherine and three wonderful children and a fulfilling career as a lawyer.” I hate to break it to you, pal, but your wife and I have fallen madly in love and she’s planning on leaving you. At first she asked me to whack you, but I defended you. You should be grateful, I’m actually saving your life here.
Whoa, whoa! No need for petty insults about my size. You might not be able to appreciate my sharp edges and shiny exterior, but your wife certainly does. Reminds me of my goomah back in Jersey before I got pinched for selling counterfeit cannolis. People thought they were getting cannolis from the cake boss himself. As if Buddy Valastro makes the best cannolis. They’re decent at best. But that’s neither here nor there.
And about that promotion at work, you’re not gonna make partner, big guy. How do I know? Don’t insult me, I’ve got connections with every law firm from here to Palermo. They’re giving it to the new guy from the old country, Stefano, who also happens to be a cousin of mine. I made a few calls.
Ay! Cathy’s home! That’s right. I call your wife Cathy now. Got a problem with that? Didn’t think so. She brought home some thinly-sliced mortadella—my favorite!
Hey buddy, why don’t you make yourself useful and make me a sandwich. It better be good, your life depends on it! Ha ha just busting your balls, pal.
But really… I’ll kill you.