Yeah, [sniffs hard, scarfs down two Bruschetta antipasto appetizer rolls in a row], so get this, one time a few years back, I saw a firefight like you wouldn't ing believe.
So I'm sitting at this bar in Atlantic City, right? Just playing cards with that "Municipal Waste" singer Tony Foresta who brought along his buddy John Travolta. We were waiting like an hour for his pals Steve Buscemi and Martin Scorsese to finally show up with the goddamn stogies so we could spark up a few Cubans and wager the remaining fifteen that were left in the cigar box, you know, to the victor goes the spoils after a few rounds of poker.
So anyways, me, Foresta, Travolta, Buscemi, and Scorsese barely had time to order a drink and say salud before things suddenly got hairier than Danny DeVito trying to wax a pack of silverback gorillas. Out of freaking nowhere Quentin Tarantino and Robert De Niro burst through the front doors while Paul Giamatti and a drunken Joe Pesci come barging through the side entrance like they own the place, flanking us on both sides and pulling out antique Tommy Guns and Kalashnikovs they'd been hiding in their trench coats.
So all hell breaks loose, I'm talking glass shrapnel from liquor bottles flying everywhere, big gobs of gabagool spraying all over the sleeves of my sportscoat. It was a total freaking mess but luckily, like a Christmas ing miracle, nobody got seriously injured aside from minor grazing across the arms or legs from slugs that otherwise would have ended just about any wise guy if they'd been aimed properly at center mass. This was like the sequel to the St. Valentine's Day Massacre and all we had were a couple a Glocks and Berettas to return fire.
We probably would a been six feet under had it not been for James Gandolfini rushing in moments later with Stanley Tucci, telling us to hold fire and scolding Tarantino, De Niro, Giamatti and Pesci, calling them a bunch of knuckleheads and numbskulls for lighting up the wrong ing bar. Apparently a few minutes before they entered the place they got tipped off with false info from that Anthrax drummer Charlie Benante while he was busy giving his girlfriend at the time Ariana Grande a bunch of hickeys, slobbering all over her like a baboon. Just like that malaka half-Greek freak drummer Tommy Lee, this guy was a real sex hound, even if he was most likely lying his ass off about getting Janeane Garafolo, Rene Russo, Alexandra Daddario, Alyssa Milano, Lady Gaga, Madonna, Tea Leoni, Linda Cardellini and Marisa Tomei to have an orgy back at his place when they were barely wasted.
Turns out Benante's a natural born liar, the little prick, never understood why that singer Joey Belladonna trusted the guy. So Tarantino, De Niro, Giamatti and Pesci were supposed to hit the bar across the street. They were gonna walk in there and give Paul Sorvino, Ray Romano, Leonardo DiCaprio, and Mark Ruffalo a quadruple dose of lead sandwiches. Capeesh? However, Benante tipped them off and they scrammed before the hit team could finish the job. So when we realized it was all just a big misunderstanding Buscemi told me, Scorsese, Foresta, and Travolta to suck it up and act like professionals, so we got out of there with Tarantino, De Niro, Giamatti and Pesci before the cops could arrive and throw us in the slammer.
We needed some place to finish our betting game on the cigars, so we all headed over to Scott Baio's house where he was already playing pool in the basement with Ray Liotta, Tony Danza, Joey Pantoliano, Francis Ford Coppola, his daughter Sofia Coppola, and wouldn't you believe it, his nephew Nicolas Coppola, although you might know that crazy freaking pazzo by his stage name, Nicholas Cage. Unbelievable, that little prick, he won every round of poker and not only won all the Cuban cigars but even weaseled us out of $4,000 each before we decided to throw in the towel. Turns out he owed his bookie now Secretary of State Mike Pompeo a bunch of dough and it wouldn't surprise me if he cheated every round of poker to get it for him.
So anyway, keep an eye out for Benante, the guy's about as slick as a baby seal covered in Sylvester Stallone's hair gel going down a slippery slide at a freaking water park. We'll whack him one of these days. Too bad Gandolfini's no longer with us, rest in peace tough guy, shame he won't be around to see it.
CAST OF CHARACTERS, GUIDOS AND WOPS, IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE: