Vinny’s Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Vinny“Hey, uh…Vinny,” Mugsy slurred as the two goons stood guard outside of a warehouse, each of them smoking a cigarette, both gazing out at the polluted waters before them at the harbor.

“What the Hell do you want Mugsy?!” Vinny nearly shrieked, looking away from the watery depths to his friend the mobster.

“Can’t you see—” Vinny started, wildly motioning towards a boat that was slowly pushing out towards the dark horizon. “—that I’m looking at that boat you big palooka!?”

Mugsy looked at his friend for a long time, all the complex thoughts that would go through one’s mind normally in a situation such as this running their course. He blinked many a time while he stalled for the appropriate response.

“What the Hell, Vinny?” Mugsy muttered while adjusting the lapels on his trench-coat. “Hey!” he exclaimed, “That is one helluva boat!”

Mugsy chuckled to himself, blushing at the beauty of this boat that was silently drifting across the ocean blue.

“Ahem…” Vinny coughed, leaning dangerously towards Mugsy, his already ratlike figure made harsher in the street lamps on the harbor.

“What?” Mugsy asked. “It’s a nice boat—”

“This isn’t about the boat you moron!” Vinny shouted, stamping on the ground. “This is about you looking at the boat instead of me and uh—uh—me—” Vinny paused to collect his thoughts. What was he so mad about again? Oh right. “—And me! Not being able to enjoy that boat because you threw off my concrenation!”

“Concentration,” Mugsy shot back wisely, pointing up at the sky, as if that further legitimized his claim to the spelling on the word.

“Whatever!” Vinny yelled, pulling off his fedora and biting into the felt, his eyes bugging out of his head.

“Vinny, what the Hell is eating ya?” Mugsy asked. It was normal to see Vinny lose his fucking shit at the littlest of things but even this seemed to push it a little bit.

“The boat, Mugsy! I was looking at the boat!” Vinny shouted, pulling his hat over his eyes.

Mugsy stared at his friend in amazement. He almost admired how passionate Vinny was regarding his gaze upon that boat.

After a full minute of screaming at the top of his lungs, Vinny finally straightened his posture and looked out at the boat once again. Waving his hand dismissively, Vinny said, “Alright, so what the Hell did you want to talk about again?”

“Oh, uh…” Mugsy sighed, digging his hands deeper into his pockets. “I was gonna say, if you step on a crack, you’ll break your mother’s back.”

Vinny turned to face Mugsy, pointing at him with one finger. He stepped forward slowly and only stopped once his finger was pushing Mugsy’s nose upwards.

“I know…” Vinny whispered, his teeth grinding together.

“Yeah…I…um…” Mugsy started nervously, wondering if it would be okay if he could ask Vinny to pick his nose for him. Vinny was in prime position for that after all. “I noticed…you did it…earlier…on the way here…stepped on a crack, I mean.”

“I KNOW THAT, MUGSY!” Vinny screamed, jabbing his finger up Mugsy’s nose. “I KNOW I STEPPED ON A CRACK AND—”

“Would ya mind–um–picking–”

“Whaddaya think I’m doing ya jerk?”

Vinny withdrew the finger from Mugsy’s nose, taking with it the improbable booger that had lounged about in Mugsy’s nose for so long. Vinny chuckled to himself and ate the booger without hesitation, then whirled his pointing finger back into Mugsy’s face.


Vinny froze. Tears were flowing from his eyes. This was so unlike him. He tried covering his face with his hands to quell the flow of the tears but it only made the situation worse.

“Vinny, do you need me to call your mom for ya?” Mugsy asked, trying to lift Vinny’s spirits.

“No,” Vinny whimpered, “It’s done, okay? I stepped on the crack and broke my momma’s back!”

Mugsy came in and grabbed onto Vinny, shoving his head into his broad shoulders.

“I know, Vinny,” Mugsy whispered as he rubbed the back of Vinny’s neck. “I know.”


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