"This…is…TERRIBLE!"
Way up in Mafia HQ, a group of three specially christened Mafia Goon leaders sat at a long table while another paced back and forth, biting on his nails. Hours in an office with broken air conditioning made four overgrown men sweat like they'd just run a mile on stilettos. Thick black smoke tainted the air with a tar-like smell which emanated from their cigars.
Finally, the pacing Goon paused a moment and stared at the wall. "You three know what Mafia must do now…"
The three seated goons switched nervous glances with each other.
The standing Goon turned to face them and sighed. "We must cancel Big Super Happy Mafia Parade…"
"No," cried one goon. "It is not possible! Big Super Happy Mafia Parade is lone highlight of Mafia's life!"
"This is greatest tragedy to ever happen to Mafia since Mafia spilled chocolate milk on Grandma Mafia's kitchen floor," reminisced another, holding back tears. "She slipped and break back and die!"
"Mafia will not stand for this!" The third goon rose from his chair and slammed the table with his fists.
"Mafia, please," pleaded the lead Goon. "Mafia cannot proceed with Big Super Happy Mafia Parade if Mafia cannot find supplier of hot dogs for Big Super Happy Mafia Parade feast! There is no point if there is no hot dogs."
Unbeknownst to the quarreling Mafia, right above them all packed tightly into the ventilation system was Mustache Girl and the Mad Crow with whom she'd made the deal. With her ear pressed against the vent, Mustache Girl picked up every detail of the conundrum about the Big Super Happy Mafia Parade celebration, and this caused her to grin a quite mischievous grin.
"Alright Pip, " she said, crawling back to consult with her partner in Mafia crime. "I think I have a plan that'll really get us off the ground…no pun intended."
The Mad Crow gave the girl a puzzled look.
"What? I said no pun intended. Don't like puns or something, Pip?"
The crow rolled his eyes.
"Oh! You don't like the name Pip! Well, too bad, it's what I'm calling you."
Pip huffed and let her continue.
"Anyway, you heard that bit about them needing hot dogs for the carnival thing or whatever? Well, what if WE were their supplier?"
Pip scrunched his brow and cocked his head.
"Trust me, if we can 'supply' them with hot dogs, we'll have them within our grasp! All we need is some of your friends and we'll pull it off!"
Pip's eyes widened and gasped the way Mad Crows gasp.
Mustache Girl clasped his beak shut and waited for any kind of response from the Mafia below.
"Hey, you hear sound?" asked one Goon.
"Sound like Mad Crow crying out in agony because little girl with mustache want to use crow's friends as meat for hot dogs," theorized another.
"Don't be ridiculous. Clearly, it was rats crawling in ventilation system. Rat must've set off patented Mafia mouse trap."
The Mafia moved onto other Mafia related business, which was the Mission Impossible wannabe's cue to move out. They crawled back where they came, avoiding the patented Mafia Rat Traps, which were nothing more than pieces of cheese poorly taped to loaded AR-15s, and returned to the rendezvous point with the other Mad Crows.
"You little git! You could've blown our cover," scolded Mustache Girl as she set down Pip.
The perturbed Mad Crow crossed his wings and glared at her, pleading her to explain her ridiculous plan. The group picked up on this and waited for their leader's answer.
"Are you seriously thinking that I'd cook you stinky lot and sell you off as hot dog meat? Ha! You're not even good enough to be food for the vent rats!"
Pip cawed something ferocious.
"Alright, alright, pipe down Pip! Now listen, while watching you lot suffer in a boiling pot sounds positively tantalizing, what I have in mind is some Grade A, good old fashioned grifting. We just need a few things…"
A few hours later, the Mafia leader group were still in their office, thinking of ways to revive their Big Super Happy Mafia Parade without their beloved processed meat dish. The white board was filled with suggestions, ranging from blind ninja dolphin exhibitions over pits of boiling chocolate milk to an excessively disco themed bocce tournament. Unfortunately, none of their ideas convinced the head Mafia Goon, so back to the chairs they were, rubbing their temples.
"Mafia Leadership," said a voice from behind the closed door. "Someone is here to see you."
"Who could it be? Mafia not expecting anyone right now."
The Mafia Goon leader walked up to the door and creaked it open. "Unless uninvited guest have invitation, Mafia not interested."
"But what if I could bring you gentleman the hot dogs you need," piped up a painfully obvious feminine voice trying to sound gruff.
The door was flung open and there appeared a slightly disjointed looking man with a blonde mustache and tiny crow feet in a business suit.
"And how can you do this, weird man with tiny head? Mafia need thousands of hot dogs to feed guests from all over island."
Mustache Girl and her team of concealed Mad Crows stumbled into the office and took their place at the front, every pair of Mafia eyes watching them in complete befuddlement.
"Gentleman, it's easy, you can have all the hotdogs you want and more! With this!"
Mustache Girl pinched the Mad Crow taking helm of the right arm, signaling it to hold out the Time Piece from the right sleeve. The Mafia Goons gasped as the familiarly shaped relic cast a soft glow all around the bland office.
"How did weird man with tiny head get Time Piece!?"
"That is of no concern to you…but look at this!"
Mustache Girl pinched the left Mad Crow, which held out a hot dog. It awkwardly guided the hotdog to her mouth, hitting her nose before sliding the greasy meat product down to her mouth. As she took a bite, she dropped the Time Relic and reverted time back to when the hot dog was whole.
The Mafia Goons applauded their guest and shook his hand, causing the Mad Crows inside to shake wildly in place.
"This weird man with tiny head will save Big Super Happy Mafia Parade celebration!"
"We must tell Mafia to continue plan for Parade!"
The Mafia Goon leader smiled and nodded at Mustache Girl. "Now then, we discuss deal to make hot dogs for Mafia, no?"
The little girl smiled. "Yes…let's make a deal."