Welcome To The Mafia

Well I'm not dead

I am John Gambino, member of the most dangerous mafia in the U.S. known as Cobra. And this is my story. It was a particularly cold day on December 4, 1997 when I woke up to this,"HONEY YOU'RE GONNA BE LATE FOR SCHOOL! GET UP BEFORE I COME UP THERE!" Did I mention I'm a junior? I got up ate some Frosted Flakes swung on my backpack and headed for school. That's when the problem started. I was walking down 5th when two very tall figures popped out of nowhere. One pulled out a stick and lobbed me in the head and everything went black.

When I woke up I was tied to a chair with a canvas sack over my head and a searing pain in my forearm. My first thought was, "This is how Mark is getting me back for putting slugs in his sleeping bag." My second thought was, "Oh my gosh I'm gonna die." Just as I was starting to believe this was all Mark's doing a rough hand pulled off the sack.

First off the light was blinding. Second off I was in a brick warehouse. I was putting two and two together when a deep husky voice said, "Welcome to Cobra." That's when panic hit me like a 90mph fast ball. I meant to yell, "What," but it came out as a little squeak. "Told you boss, he doesn't know who we are," the voice said. Then a female voice soft as silk said, "He'll figure it out, he's smart." "No I meant 'what' like I can't believe this it's crazy and I'm dead. Though, you Probably get that a lot don't you," I said. She responded simply, "Yes, yes we do." The two voices came into light. The male was big and bulky and could probably pummel my face to pudding if he wanted. The female was about my age and didn't look like a boss but I got the feeling she could kill me if she wanted. It wasn't only that, she was attractive. With her flowing long hair, caramel eyes, and perfect features. Whoa, did I just write that? Oh well. "Where are my manners," the girl said, "my name name is Ava."

"Ava is a pretty name, " I said. She obviously didn't like that because she slapped me and yelled, "You do NOT talk to me that way!" And with that she stomped off. "Whoa, what's her problem," I wondered out loud.

"She doesn't like people talking about her name."

"Really?'

"If it wasn't 'really' then why would I bring it up?"

"You people really don't get it, do you?"

"Shut up."

"We're gonna get along great."

                                                   . . .

I woke up up in second period math. "John are you listening," Mrs. Hernandez asked. "Huh what," I asked sounding like a drunk cow. "Oh really? What's x in the equation: x divided by four plus two equals seven and a half minus two x?" "I don't know, " I said innocently. "That's what I thought. Next time, pay attention." And of course the entire class had to go, "Oooooh!"