Find Big Fat Fanny Fast (17 page)

Bing. Bang. Spurt. Ten-four, over and out.

It was 10 pm and Nicky Knuckles was getting restless. There were plenty of bars in the Village. Some gay. Some not so gay. And some loaded with loony, artistic broads just looking to get laid.

Nicky put on a blond wig and coved it with a black beret. He stuck on a false mustache and donned a trench coat, which made him look like Inspector Clouseau on a bad day. He grabbed his new Motorola DynaTak mobile phone and stuck it in the inside pocket of his trench coat. The DynaTak was the first mobile phone that didn't need a suitcase-sized contraption to go with it and was ten times better than having a beeper.

Nicky exited the apartment building, hoping to score a decent looking broad, or maybe one not so decent looking. As horny as Nicky was and because he had run out of cash for hookers, it didn't make that much a difference to him what they looked like anyway.

Nicky made the rounds of the Village bars, walking west of Sixth Avenue, where he would most likely not be seen by someone from the old neighborhood. Not knowing which bar was gay and which were not gay, forced Nicky to enter most places with one hand held absently behind him, like he was symbolically protecting his back door.

If Nicky saw a nice broad in the joint, he'd order a scotch and soda and sit next to her. Then he'd spend the next twenty minutes or so trying to talk sense to some wackadoosie, who wanted to babble about
Camus
, Sartre and Jack Kerouac, while Nicky just wanted to get laid.

Nicky barhopped west, until he hit the corner of West and
Christopher
Street. Sitting on the corner was a huge bar, with about a million freaking fags milling outside, wearing leather outfits and cowboy hats. Nickey remembered this was the bar a few years back that some lunatic in a passing car shot a fruitcake into swish cheese. Nickey recalled not only did one fag get killed, but a few others took shots in the ass and not the ones they wanted there in the first place.

Nicky sprinted past the bar and turned north on West Street. He heard there was a new swinging bar in that area with plenty of hot chicks, but he didn't know exactly where it was located. He made a turn on West 10
th
Street and saw a huge parking lot filled with trailers that had been unhooked from trucks. Nicky had heard all about these trailers, which were dotted all over the lower west side. The cops called them Daisey Chains, because inside these abandoned trailers, groups of homos hooked themselves in circular chains, penis to mouth and so forth, until the circle was completed.

Nicky picked up his pace and headed toward Greenwich Street, when the back of one of the trailers opened and out jumped Fat Charlie Crappola, followed by a blond twink half Crappy's age and a quarter Crappy's size.

Crappy didn't see Nicky, but Nicky sure saw Crappy. How could he miss him? He was four hundred pounds and counting, for Christ's sake.

Nickey put his head down, picked up his pace and slipped into the doorway of the nearest tenement. With a clear view of Crappy and the twink, he pulled out his DynaTak and dialed the number he wanted. A voice answered.

“Junior, you wouldn't believe what I just saw,” Nickey said.

And then he told him.

“Find Big Fat Fanny fast,” Nicky said. “I'll follow Crappy and we can do him in for good tonight.”

“No, my father has to make the call on this,” Junior said. “He's the boss. I'll set up a meeting as soon as possible and he'll decide exactly what has to be done.”

*****

Yuan Dum Fuk climbed the stairs at 33 Mott Street to Peggy Soo's second floor apartment. For the past few weeks, things had gone pretty good for Yuan Dum Fuk. He had been given the proper respect for taking care of Billy the Blade, even though Peggy Soo had been the real shooter. Since then, Hung Far Low had been real nice to him, even financing his trip to Las Vegas with Peggy Soo and giving them ten grand to gamble, which he blew on the first night. The rest of the trip was watching Peggy Soo sucking his wang and listening to Wayne Newton. Sometimes at the same time.

Yuan Dum Fuck knocked on the door. Peggy Soo opened it and he walked inside.

He was shocked to see Hung Far Low sitting wide on the living room couch. He was munching on a tray of egg rolls, which was sitting on the coffee table in front of him.

“Hey boss. What are you doing here?” Yuan Dum Fuk said.

“I'm eating egg rolls, what does it look like I'm doing?” Hung Far Low said.

“Yeah, but why here in my girlfriend's apartment?”

Peggy Soo took a napkin and wiped bits of egg roll off Hung Far Low's chin. She turned to Yuan Dum Fuk. “You know, you ask too many freaking questions.”

“Sit down, the both of you,” Hung Far Low said. “I'm here to talk business.”

Yuan Dun Fuk sat in an armchair across from his boss, while Peggy Soo sat on the couch, snuggled next to Hung Far Low.

Hung Far Low took an egg roll out of his mouth just far enough to talk. “The first and most important thing is, nobody is to mention I was here eating egg rolls to anyone. Especially to my daughter.”

“Why is that so important?” Yuan Dun Fuk said.

Peggy Soo shot Yuan Dun Fuk the evil eye. “You with those questions again.”

Hung Far Low chomped down on an egg roll. “No that's alright Peggy Soo. This question I will answer, but it will be the last question I will answer.” He stared bullets at Yuan Dum Fuk. “You understand?”

Yuan Dum Fuk squirmed in his seat. “Yes boss.”

“My daughter Lily thinks I'm on the Atkins Diet. That means no egg rolls. No dumplings. Nothing with carbohydrates?”

“No fried rice?” Yuan Dum Fuk said.

Hung Far Low grunted. “No more questions, I said.”

Yuan Dun Fuk lowered his eyes. “Yes boss.”

Hung Far Low continued. “My daughter cooks for me at home. Beef. Pork. Chicken. With green Chinese vegetables. Bland shit like that. Tastes no freaking good. When she's not looking, I give it to our new dog Daisey Mae.”

“You have new dog boss?” Yuan Dum Fuk said. “I didn't even know you had old dog.”

Peggy Soo stood up and pointed a chubby finger at Yuan Dum Fuk. “The boss said no more freaking questions.”

“That was not a question” Yuan Dum Fuk said. “That was a statement.”

“No more statements either,” she said.

Hung Far Low kept rambling. “So I can't even go to a public restaurant to eat, because my daughter has eyes everywhere. So I come here. Peggy Soo orders me what I want, from where I want and I eat it here.”

Yuan Dum Fuk still looked puzzled. “But are you losing weight? If you don't lose weight, Lily will know something's wrong.”

Peggy Soo pulled a pistol from her jeans pocket. He stood up and pointed it at Yuan Dum Fuk's forehead. “You are one dumb bastard.”

Yuan Dun Fuk stood tall. “Why are you pointing a gun at me? And how is this man your boss? He's my boss, not your boss. You are nothing but my lowly girlfriend.”

Hung Far Low stuck out his right hand like a traffic cop. “Stop this foolishness. And Peggy Soo, put away the gun. We have more important things to talk about.”

Peggy Soo put the gun in her waistband, covered it with her blouse and sat down.

Hung Far Low picked up an egg roll and pointed it at Yuan Dum Fuk. “First of all, Peggy Soo works for me and has worked for me for a very long time. In fact, she was the back-up shooter in the Billy the Blade thing.”

Yuan Dum Fuk's jaw dropped. “Back-up shooter? Why would you need a back-up shooter, when you had me on the job? And why was I not told about this when I was assigned to the hit? And why would you use a dumb, ugly girl like Peggy Soo as my backup? Chinese girls can't do shit, except maybe suck a wang once in a while and they ain't too good at that either.

“You didn't complain last night,” Peggy Soo said.

Yuan Dum Fuk smiled. “That's because bad blowjob is better than no blowjob. But the truth is most Chinese girls have bad overbite problem. No good for sucking wang. Too much teeth. Hurts like hell.”

Peggy Soo pulled up her blouse and put her hand on the handle of her gun. “You're really testing me here.”

Hung Far Low pointed a half-eaten egg roll at Yuan Dum Fuk. “You keep your mouth shut. Good thing I used Peggy Soo as your backup. You weren't doing such a good job, until she pulled the trigger.”

“But she was shooting at me, “Yuan Dum Fuk said. “She even told me she shot the wrong guy.”

“If I was shooting at you, you would be six feet under already,” Peggy Soo said.

Hung Far Low devoured the last half of the egg roll, then belched twice. “Look, this is all nonsense. I am here for a reason, other than to eat egg rolls.” He picked up another egg roll off the tray. “I need for both of you to kill Junior Bentimova. As soon as possible.” He took a bite out of the egg roll, and spoke while chewing and spitting. “And don't either of your screw this up, or I'm going to get very angry indeed.”

*****

They all sat at a round table in the back room of Forlini's Restaurant. No one else was in the room and no one else was allowed in the room. The back room was usually reserved for private parties; baptisms, confirmations, birthdays, anniversaries and an occasional Bar Mitzvah or two, even though Manishchewitz wasn't on the menu.

Tonight, important business was to be discussed in this room and if a customer made the mistake of entering the room, or made a wrong turn to, or from the bathroom, they would be quickly told to get out, or else. And in the history of Forlini's, no one had ever asked why.

On the table in front of them were several platters of cold and hot antipasto.

“Hey Junior, pass me the platter of proshoot and mozarell,” Tony B said.

“Want some cabagol too?” Junior said.

“Mannaggia, you want to get me fat, or something?” Tony B said.

Big Fat Fanny sat at the right hand of Tony B. “And what's wrong with being fat?”

Tony B pinched her plump cheek. “There's nothing wrong with being fat, sweetie. In fact, even though you're a little hefty, you look beautiful. If you were skinny, like Skinny Benny, I wouldn't even look at you twice.”

Junior handed his father the platter he requested. Tony B forked the Italian cold cuts onto his plate, until the platter was empty.

“Don't you get fat,” Big Fat Fanny told Tony B. “I don't like fat men.”

Skinny Benny picked from a hot platter of fried calamari. “I eat like a pig, but I can never gain any weight.”

Big Fat Fanny dipped a large piece of buttered Italian bread into a plate of Italian meat sauce. “That because all those schifosas you go out with work off the calories on your bony body.” She shoveled the bread into her mouth, took a few bites, then swallowed. “You wouldn't know what to do with a real woman like me.”

Skinny Benny forked some more fried calamari into his mouth. “Va fongool, they ain't all skanks. Some of the broads I date look like movie stars.”

Big Fat Fanny dunked another piece of bread into the meat sauce. “Yeah, some of them look like King Kong, that's for sure.” She devoured the bread in two bites. “What is it with you anyway? White girls don't turn you on?”

Skinny Benny put down his fork. “Hey, I don't date any Moolies.”

Tony B spoke with his mouth full of salami. “Maybe you don't date them. But quite a few have been seen sneaking in and out of your apartment.”

Skinny Benny leaned forward. “Meengya, those are my cleaning ladies, for Christ's sake. I have them come in once or twice a week. To do the laundry and things like that.”

Tony B almost choked on a piece of bread. “Cleaning ladies? What are you, kidding me? The only thing those
cleaning ladies
are cleaning are your fuckin' pipes.”

Big Fat Fanny put down her bread and looked Tony B square in the eye. “Enough with the curse words. There's a lady in the room.” She picked up the bread and dipped it in the meat sauce. “And before anyone gets cute, the lady is me.”

Tony B patted her chunky cheek. “Of course you're a lady. And I'll try to stop the freakin' cursing.”

Skinny Benny took a sip of red wine. “So maybe I throw the cleaning ladies an extra ten spot now and then. Those girls gotta earn a livin' too, ya know.”

Tony B chewed, then swallowed a large chunk of provolone cheese. “Oofah. Let's stop taking about black broads while I'm eating. You're giving me agita here.”

Big Fat Fanny shoved a large piece of provolone into her mouth. She chomped a bit, then swallowed. “Yes, let's get down to business, before they bring out the main courses.”

Tony B wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin. He clanged his fork on a water glass to get everyone's attention. “This place may be bugged. So we're all going to write everything down. Then destroy the papers.”

He took out a spiral notebook, fingered a pencil and wrote:
“Charlie Crap is a stone fag. And he's gotta go.”

He handed the notebook to Big Fat Fanny. She read the note, nodded her head, then handed the notebook to Junior.

Junior read it, nodded his head, then handed it to Skinny Benny.

Skinny Benny read the note, then yelled, “CRAPPY'S NOT A STONE FAG! HE'S GOT MORE BROADS THAN JESUS CHRIST!”