Chapter 2: The Fish Cart
(at the fish cart)
Mr. Devon: Now, Fondulini, this here is the fish cart. I need you to sell the fish on this fish cart and make me money.
Fondulini: Then whadda you need me for?
Mr. Devon: To sell the fish, of course!
Fondulini: Oh, sorry about that. You see, I was-a just thinking that-a perhaps you could-a do it yourself.
Mr. Devon: I can't do this myself, my good man. Fish is my health's Trojan Horse.
Fondulini: Yeah, my throat is-a horse too.
Mr. Devon: What? (coming out of his daze) Oh, never mind. I wish you to very best of luck, Fondulini.
Fondulini: You got it, boss. I no let-a you down.
Mr. Devon: Splendid!
(He walks off. A lady wearing silk furs walks by the cart.)
Fondulini: Hey, lady.
Rich Lady: Yes?
Fondulini: You wanna some fish?
Rich Lady: Um, no, my good sir. I do not like cod.
Fondulini: Thatsa all right. I-a no give you the cut, I give-a you the whole fish.
Rich Lady: What kind of fish do you have?
Fondulini: Well, letsa see. I gotta halibut, sturgeon…
Rich Lady: You have sturgeon?
Fondulini: No, I only go to him if I've gotta broken bones.
Rich Lady: Oh, never mind. Do you have… halibut?
Fondulini: No, but I gotta halibutton.
Rich Lady: Halibutton?
Fondulini: Yes, thatsa Dick Cheney's corporation.
Rich Lady: Who's Dick Cheney?
Fondulini: Never mind, what else-a you want?
Rich Lady: Do you have flounder?
Fondulini: Sure.
Rich Lady: Do you even know what a flounder is?
Fondulini: Sure. George Washington was-a the flounder of America.
Rich Lady: Oh, forget it. My husband prefers lox. The fish you have, is there lox?
Fondulini: Of course! I've got lox and lox of fish.
Rich Lady: You really are a pest, aren't you?
Fondulini: No, lady, I know-a nothing about pests. Birds live in-a pests, and fish live in-a the ocean.
Rich Lady: That is it! I have had it! I'm leaving!
Fondulini: Don't you wanna your fish?
Rich Lady: Oh!
(She leaves. A young man and a woman walk over to him.)
Young Man: Hello, sir. My wife and I are looking for some fresh fish to make for our block party.
Fondulini: This ain't-a no lox party! But we do gotta have some other fish.
Young Woman: Like what? Would you happen to have minnow?
Fondulini: Yep, I've gotta gin… oh!
Young Man: (looks confusedly at his wife) Well, perhaps one drink would be okay.
Fondulini: Okay, I gotta three bottles o' tonic.
Young Man: I thought you said you had gin.
Fondulini: Yeah.., gin and tonic! (laughs) Thatsa good one, eh?
Young Woman: Let's go, honey. We can go buy fish from the market downtown.
Fondulini: Okay, good-bye. I send over the lox tomorrow!
(They walk away, and a little boy comes over.)
Little Boy: Hi, mister.
Fondulini: You're a very little-a boy, I-a see. I'm not-a your mister, I'm not even-a your brother, I'm Fondulini, the fish man.
Little Boy: I'm sorry, Mr. Fetulini.
Fondulini: Eh, you crazy. Fetulini is that Italian-a noodles that are-a so soft and chewy.
Little Boy: Mr… Fondulini, my mommy wants me to get some fresh fish for the house.
Fondulini: Mice don't eat fish.
Little Boy: (giggling) No, not mouse, house!
Fondulini: Thatsa what I say.
Little Boy: Do you have trout?
Fondulini: I no trout. Itsa always better to-a smile then-a to trout.
Little Boy: You're funny, mister.
Fondulini: May I-a recommend some anchovies?
Little Boy: For what?
Fondulini: For-a pizza.
Little Boy: Mmm… pizza. But I can't. My mommy won't let me have pizza. She says it's too cheesy.
Fondulini: Kids-a toys are-a cheesy. Pizza's-a not that-a cheesy.
Little Boy: But it has cheese on it!
Fondulini: Hmm? Thatsa crazy. I make-a good pizza without any-a cheese.
Little Boy: Cheese makes pizza taste good! You're weird, mister.
(The little boy runs off. Fondulini receives a phone call.)
Fondulini: Hello. You've-a reached Fondulini, the fish man. Whadda you want?
Mr. Devon: Hello, Fondulini! How goes business?
Fondulini: Oh! Hello, boss! Itsa doing fine.
Mr. Devon: Splendid! I was just about to check my latest profits.
Fondulini: Cough it? Yeah, I'd cough it outta the window if I were you, boss.
Mr. Devon: Oh, charming as always, Mr. Fondulini!
Fondulini: Thank-a you, boss.
(They hang up.)
Mr. Devon: Now, let me see how much I'm making.
(He takes a file out of a cabinet.)
Mr. Devon: Good gracious! I'm losing money! (gets angry) Oh, that double-crossing idiot! I'll teach him to run me out of business!