Da Finga!

YO, DA GAME!
Louis the Finger was getting impatient. Short Sal turns from the driver’s seat grinning large from ear to ear. “Finga, y'hear dat? Whazzat?”
“It's the trunk, don't worry, it'll stop real soon. Pull over.” Short Sal's bear like hands turn the '76 Buick Electra's leather steering wheel to pull into the shoulder where dense vegetation meets up with the NJ Turnpike. A strangled moan is heard from the back as Louis opens the passenger door.
“Boss, y'needs me for dis? I jus finish eatin.” Sal scratches the Clams Linguini stain on his voluminous tie with his manicured pinky nail. The Finger stares above Sal's shoulder in contemplation for a moment before nodding his head. “You're a good man Short Sallie, but I can not ask you to do this for me.”
Batka is carrying on in pseudo Guru mode, impaled in his thoughts he dreams of Graceland while meditating on the swirl of his left thumbprint. Registering as the background soundtrack of his existence, Cecelia Sometimes plays four notes rhythmically over and over again. She calls her song 'Girlfriend Your Taxi is Here.’ The words she sings in siren scream have nothing to do with the title. Cecelia insists that titles are the most important element of a song.

“It is a song about Courageous Atrophy who we haven't seen for way too long. 'Get it while you can 'cause you're gonna get old, dumb man... Get it while you can 'cause you're gonna get old, dumb man...'
Cecelia Sometimes has a short attention span. When she was young a Doctor prescribed Riddlin for her ADHD. Taken in its prescribed dosage, it did allow her to focus better. Cecelia's dad stopped the medication when he discovered her saving up a weeks worth of pills and doing them all at once. Cecelia precociously told him that she liked the candy better that way.

Backlit, Louis the Finger casts a tall shadow against the pool-room’s high ceiling over painted walls. "Where the Hell is that Prick? Doesn't he know who I am!?!”
"Hey Finga, wan me ta take care of him when he comes?"
"No Short Sal. This is my game. He's all mine. You hear that? No one touches this kid. His ass is mine. Ha Ha Ha Ha…"
Short Sal's enormous lapels dance up and down with each laughing shrug. The Finger slices the air with his Pool Cue as if he were Mickey Mantle. At the Bar, a just arrived Batka cradles his Vodka, Cecelia cross-armed one step back from him. The glare from Short Sal's ruby cufflink glints in Batka's eye, catching his attention.
"Hey boss, dat punk ass is here." Louis the Finger catches Batka's eye and grinning, he calls him over with a curl of his crooked finger.
"It is with great anticipation and pleasure that I greet you. What the Hell you think this is, huh? The Finger don't wait for nobody, huh? Whazzat about?"
“What's up Able? You Okay? You still with that Scorcese Bullshit?"
“I told you to call me 'The Finger,' or Louis. Able is 'a no here."'
"Okay 'Finger.' It's my game; You rack 'em up. Damn, I'm feeling lucky, you should just leave now." Batka rolls up his sleeves and hands his lit cigarette to Cecelia Sometimes. She runs her hand down his chest.
"Hey Cecelia, you still with this goombah? He's just about done. Yo Batka, whaddya say we play for the goil?"
"Able, I mean 'Finger', what's that noise." Able Fawlty slaps his forehead and runs outside. Batka turns to Courageous Atrophy with a questioning look.
"Yo Courageous, excuse me I mean 'Short Sal', what's up with Able, uh, I mean Finger, uh Louis?”
"'Sokay Batka, it's just Louis' new dog. He left it in the trunk with the cat."
"Uh huh. Uh huh. I knew he was going to find an excuse to cop out on the game. YO FINGA, GETCHAR ASS IN HERE AN FINISH DA GAME!"