Alright, listen up. I’ve been hearing a lot of talk around town that the Pacini crime family is getting soft. If I’m not misinformed, and we all know that Jimmy “The Brain” Pacini is never misinformed, then these murmurs got started after a particular somebody had a hand in putting seven of my brothers and sisters in the slammer a little over a year ago.
Well, let me tell you a couple things about the Pacini family. First, nobody crosses us and gets away with it. Now, I know you’re thinking “that slimeball brother of yours that signed a plea deal got away with it,” and that actually brings me to the second thing I’ll tell you about the Pacinis.
We have ways of making people talk.
See, it’s true that after my brother betrayed us he was put into witness protection and we failed to locate him, but somebody always knows something. That’s when it dawned on me. This Christmas fella, Santa Claus, keeps tabs on everybody on Earth, right, and that would mean he knows exactly where we can find my snitch brother Ricky “The Rat” Pacini.
I’ll admit, getting the big guy in red to say anything proved difficult. My boys must have roughed him up at every shopping mall in America, but he didn’t say as much as a county name. That’s when I rethought my strategy.
By the (far less than objective) judging system of Mr. Claus, my whole family was “naughty.” He told us so on multiple occasions during our “beatdown Santa” cross-country tour. While I didn’t necessarily agree with his ruling, I understood it. I mean, he sees everyone when they’re sleeping, so he’s seeing quite a few people sleeping with the fishes just because of us.
I knew we wouldn’t get anywhere with this toy creep unless we cleaned up our act. I told the boys no more naughtiness. No more laundering, no more strong-arming local businesses – I even said no more torrenting movies off the internet. If you want to see Venom: Let There Be Carnage, you can get it from the Redbox machine like the rest of the schmucks out there.
Yeah, we cut out all crime over the last year, but we didn’t stop there. We weren’t shooting for “not naughty.” All that would have accomplished is we wouldn’t have gotten coal. No, we were good. I sent my enforcer, Albert “The Biceps” Pacini to actually help those aforementioned local businesses. He stocked shelves, assisted customers, fixed the windows we’d thrown metal garbage cans through every weekend, etc. Those businesses thrived, and the storeowners had never been happier. I was in just as good a mood, because I spent the whole time picturing Biceps squashing Ricky’s little pimple head.
I also sent my sister Val “The Nose” Pacini to volunteer at a series of nonprofits. She helped over nineteen charities this year, even setting record highs in the Critter Connection’s annual “Adopt a Lizard” campaign. Not to mention she did all of that while still finding time to daydream about feeding Ricky to the lizards bit by bit until there’s more of him inside the lizards than there is left on this beautiful Earth. Charitable Insider Magazine named her the “most selfless” person of the year.
Then there was my part in this whole operation. I simply had to go down to Duluth, Georgia, to the one mall in America I’m not banned from, where I sat right on Santa’s lap, and told him that for Christmas all I want is the new name and address of Ricky Pacini. The loaf has to give it to me. Them’s the rules. He begrudgingly told me that he knows it’s wrong, but that I’ve been good all year so he has no choice. He said his inexplicable powers go far beyond the limits or preferences of his humanlike wills. The gift will be mine.
In less than one week’s time, I will know exactly where Ricky is hiding.
He then asked me if I was going to continue to be good through next year.
No, Santa, I think I’ll be a little naughty.