The mob boss walked in, surrounded by his goons. His overcoat was around his shoulders without his arms being in the sleeves. He shrugged, and one of the goons removed the overcoat, draped it over his arm, and stepped back from the boss.
He was clearly not the stereotypical Sicilian. His perfectly coiffed hair was fading from blonde to grey, even though in his younger days, his hair had been brown. His white shirt was accented by a bright red tie, which extended several inches below his belt buckle. He leaned slightly forward as if in anticipation, although rumor had it that it was due to lifts in his shoes.
He looked around, and spoke about how proud they should be that he was making a visit. As he spoke, his tiny hands moved closer and farther apart, as though he were playing an invisible accordion. When he was finished speaking, several people came up to kiss his high-school ring.
Mitch “No-Chin” had once been extremely powerful, and might be again; in either case, he was prone to kissing whichever part of the Boss he believed would help him hang onto power. Another, a female who was new to the syndicate, knelt before him, losing her aluminum foil hat in the process.
“Are you Q?” she asked. The boss looked down his nose and snorted.
Others followed, all paying homage and pledging their loyalty to the boss.
After a bit, the boss shrugged, a signal for his underling, who spread the boss’s overcoat over his shoulders,leaving a number of others waiting in line. The boss started to turn, stopped, and turned back.
“Ya got a real nice Senate here. It would be a shame if something were to happen to it.”
He walked out the door.