COACHELLA CROOKED

Ricardo Aardal

© 2019

PART I - SWINGING WITH THE MOB

ONE

"No more screw ups yous guys," orders the driver and leader of four members of the notorious Corsini Mob family.

They clunk along in their beaten up, oil burning Buick an hour from the Coachella Valley in the California desert. Early this morning they fled Las Vegas in a panic as their Godfather raged and retaliated to their latest blunder.

The Godfather banished the bumbling brothers and the two ladies connected to them. Desperately, the frustrated Corsini Godfather wanted to get his four relatives out of Vegas, and out of his sight. And maybe, just maybe they might do some good for the Mob family in regard to the Godfather's recent purchase.

The distracted driver taps on the steering wheel, keeping time to Sinatra's latest 1960 hit playing on the squawking radio. "And us guys running that swanky Palm Springs Golf Club filled with them there Hollywood brats gonna be easy street."

For the silver screen stars in 1960 love to play and pamper themselves in Palm Springs. They love to play at golf, play at boozing, play with mind altering drugs, do some major playing around, playing with each others spouses, and even playing with their sexuality hidden behind closed desert doors.

Hollywood to Palm Springs happens to be a short cruise for the spoilt celebrities in their smooth-riding luxurious, speedy Cadillacs, Mercedes, Bentleys, Porsches and Rolls Royces. Once they hit California's scenic Coachella Valley, the pressure of the cut-throat entertainment industry, ever-prying pushy Hollywood media, and the exhausting stardom treadmill, slips away.

Those stars can let their stylish hair down, let it all hang out and let loose. Cool cats like Frankie, Dean and Sammy can enjoy the centre of all the playing and partying in the highbrow, big bucks Golf and Country Clubs where everything and anything goes.

A whiny Jersey accent sounds from the backseat of the car, "Can't this jalopy go any faster?"

The older brother and leader turns to the complaining lady chewing gum and holding a cigarette. He grits his teeth and snaps, "Shut up! Cause you the reason we's being run out a Vegas in this rust bucket, and being sent to that there uppity golf club."

That highfalutin exclusive club in Palm Springs is the Golden Eagle Golf and Tennis Club. The immaculate club was built in the early 1950s sparing no expense, making it one of the jewels of the Coachella Valley golf scene. Of course, the love sport of tennis has been a part of the Golden Eagle's illustrious history. Although, it has been the stunningly glorious Golden Eagle eighteen hole golf course that has vaulted the Golden Eagle name and reputation into the hearts and minds of those rich and famous enough to afford the exorbitant membership fees.

But unfortunately, now in early 1960 with no investment these last few years, Golden Eagle shows the subtle signs of neglect and wear. The ever so gradual decline in quality has crept into many aspects of the club, none more prevalent than in the Pro Shop. Still immaculate, but with doors starting to jam, carpet starting to fray and the front counter beginning to support numerous scuffs, it requires some TLC - Tender Loving Cash.

Behind that stoic and story laden front counter stand two Golf Pros waiting on spiffy dressed golf fanatics, while the phone continues to ring. First golf pro is Billy Parks, a thirty year old, tall, good looking, womanizing bad boy, who carries one distinct facial feature, a sizeable nose.

Being the bad boy he is, Billy turns that whopping honker into a come-on advantage. The Golf Pro informs any female he's pursuing with a knotty wink and a knotty grin, that they can tell the true size of the man, by studying the size of the nose.

An ever moving, efficient Billy takes an order for a mighty expensive custom made set of golf clubs from an excited Golden Eagle member. Oh, how those filthy rich folks love to out do each other with their ego swelling toys.

The second golf pro, Barb Bond, a twenty-four year old, super confident, ball busting, beautiful, blonde bombshell, who looks at a golf magazine sitting on the counter. She wears form fitting, blue golf attire that highlights an athletic well-shaped body, and matches her ocean blue eyes.

Barb yawns, gazes up, appearing uninterested in Mr. Howard Mortimer, the long time member she serves. She yawns again, turning to Billy and asks, "Where's the new Ping irons?"

"Third aisle on the right, Barb."

"Down there Howie." Barb points with a lethargic finger at the aisle to direct the priggish Mr. Mortimer, turning her eyes back to the golf magazine.

A stuffy dressed Howard peeks at his priceless gold pocket watch. He raises his eyebrows, cheeks a blazing at her audacity, huffing in his well rehearsed haughty manner. He's ready to deliver an eloquent long-winded tongue lashing Barb's way.

The dark haired Billy spies the problem brewing from the corner of his eye, turns to the fuming member, gracing him with an engaging smile. "Mr. Mortimer, please give me a minute and I'll show you some of their exciting features." Mr. Mortimer cools down his so-called aristocratic British blood. Billy carries on, "They may be perfect for your unique stance and swing."

"Very well, William." The self important Mr. Mortimer nods, adjusting his wire rim spectacles and steps to the side.

"Hey, where the hell is Dick, our other so called pro?" Barb inquires in her usual loud volume. "We're swamped here."

"Don't know where our self proclaimed head man is," whispers Billy.

Barb scowls. "Not tall enough to even be a man. Hey, when do we get a Booking Clerk?"

"When we Golf Pros stop answering the phone," Billy whispers again, not wanting the members to hear their dialogue.

Barb slaps the counter. "I'm a professional golfer, not a stupid Booking Clerk."

Billy grimaces. He finishes serving the satisfied member. "Mr. Waterhouse, these sticks will be ready in no time. And Sir, these beauties will hopefully fix that little slice." He flashes a warm smile at the next member. "Barb, please serve this fine gentlemen and good friend, Mr. Carlson. I'll help Mr. Mortimer, and then grab the phone."

Billy moves to assist a grey haired Mr. Mortimer. Except, Mr. Carlson in front of him pleads, "But Billy, I only want you, and only you, to serve me."

One hour later Billy and Barb sit around an old wooden table in the back room of the Pro Shop. They stare at a gigantic bottle of Jack Daniels whiskey taking center stage on the table with a glass in each of their hands. Barb appears exhausted, while Billy appears calm and relaxed with his feet up on the rickety table.

Barb takes a tentative sip from a half full glass, primarily containing ice. "How do you make every club member love you?"

Billy holds up his glass which is full to the brim of straight whisky. "Booze baby!"

Barb wrinkles her nose. "Hate dealing with the snooty members. Just want to golf."

Billy lets out a contented sigh, stretching out his long legs. "Well, these big shots at Golden Eagle Golf & Tennis club are what pays my bar bills."

"Big shots like that complaining Howie." She clenches her fist. "Pompous ass! Walks like he's got a club up his ass."

"But Howard bought a brand new set of irons, and we get our cut."

She snickers. "Bet you he won't break a hundred."

The over competitive Barb persists on challenging Billy to bet with her. Even though, she's on quite a losing run against him. In fact, never won once in their 25 wagers over the time they've worked together. She's growing desperate for a victory.

"Not betting on that."

"Chicken! See Billy, even you know those irons won't help Howie."

Billy savours a shot of the whiskey. "But Howard thinks they might. And that's want counts with the big shots."

"Those male chauvinist, big shots are a pain in my ass!"

"And Sweetie, you do have a beautiful back end."

"Don't call me Sweetie. Jerk!"

Billy winks. "Okay Doll face, but you do have a beautiful derriere."

"You're such a pig." She leans over. Playfully, she slaps Billy on the shoulder. She can't get too upset with him as she often finds herself admiring Billy's scrumptious backend. "Hey Billy, I hear the new owner's coming in today."

The previous short sighted owner milked every ounce of profit he possibly could out of Golden Eagle over the last few years. He put nothing back into the club. Now the greedy owner has cashed out with attaining a healthy sale price for the star studded club. Will the new owner be any better?

Billy rubs his shoulder after Barb's so-called light slap. For this feisty fit girl packs some oomph and possesses a slap happy attitude. "Don't care who the new owner is." He takes another drink. "All owners are squares. Never want to be one of those."

"I care!" Barb pronounces. "My dream's to be on the Ladies Pro Tour. Need rich folks to sponsor me. New owner could be my ticket."

Barb comes from a lower income family up in Oakland. Her father put enormous pressure on her to be successful in sports. She was the son he never had. He belittles her and reminds her of how she's fallen short of his expectations.

"Been down that sorry road," reflects Billy.

"And you screwed up your big break with your boozing and womanizing. You loser!"

Barb thinks how when a guy is a womanizer they call him a player. But when a gal like her is sexually active, they call her a slut. She hates these double standards that flourish in 1960. She wonders if it'll ever change?

Billy enjoys a long shot of the whiskey, ingratiating Barb with his brightest smile. "A happy boozer loser who dreams of sampling a broad and booze from every country in this wicked old world."

Barb rolls her eyes as she laughs. "Billy travels the world one hole and shot at a time."

He inhales a long drink, draining his glass. "I should write a travel guide to Billy's wonderful world."

"Call it, Burnout with Billy." She points a determined finger at him. "I'm not screwing up. Can't screw up. This could be my big break."

Billy reaches for the JD whiskey bottle he pinched from the Golden Eagle bar. "Screw big breaks. One more shot of Tennessee before my next lesson with Dino."

Inside Billy cringes at how he ruined his life with the booze. He knows he should quit! He knows he masks his many fears. But he loves his whiskey, and just can't stop. Another four ounces of straight JD courage slides down his throat, helping wipe away the screw up memories.

Dick Short, a mid-forties, fast talking, scam seeking golf pro busts into the room. Dick lacks height, and wears a multi coloured flashy golf shirt with highland checkered pants. The cocky fella strides up to Barb and Billy who ignore him.

Dick pounds the table, rubbing his smarting fist after the blow. "Listen up Chumps! New owner will be coming through the Pro Shop soon. I'll take charge. My dream of Head Pro is our goal."

Barb sticks out her tongue at Dick. "Piss off! Dick the prick!"

Dick puffs out his chest. "I'm practically doing the Head Pros job now. Right Rudolph." Dick attempts to pull Billy's nose. But he's stopped cold by Billy's quick reflexes.

"Doing nothing," Billy chirps. "Guess that's what Head Pro's do."

Dick strikes the table with his other fist, rattling the bottle, commencing the dandy to rub his newly injured mitt. "But I'm not getting the cut I deserve!"

"Go to hell!" Barb kicks Dick in the shin. "You do nothing, deserve nothing."

"Ouch!" Dick rubs his shin with his pained hands. "I schmooze the big shots."

"You mean kiss a couple of their asses," she fires back. "And you can do it while you stand."

Dick hates the short jokes. He hates his vertically challenged parents with the last name of Short, who went and named him, Dick. How he hated the kids in school for teasing him. He hates the staff at Golden Eagle for doing the same. He'll show them all. Dick stands tall, raging and pointing his finger at Billy and Barb. "You tell the new owner how great I am, and I might take care of you screw ups! Or else!" Dick makes a quick slashing motion across his throat.

TWO

Ten minutes later the three Golf Pros stand alone around the front counter of the Pro Shop. Barb and Billy appear calm and relaxed. Doesn't seem as if Dick's throat slash action rattled them. Whereas, Dick's knees knock with nervous anticipation. He's wringing his hands, biting his lips, just about to wet his pants. In fact, there may be an unruly drop or two seeping out.

A door flings open with a flurry of force. For an arm-waving world-wind storms in, and his name is Joey Corsini. Joey's an early fifties, well built, boisterous, arrogant Italian dressed in a dark blue suit, with matching bright red tie, puff and socks.

Joey's a good looking guy for his age, even with his few grey hairs and the thickest of eyebrows. He loves his fancy jewelry, supporting gold cufflinks, gold tie clip, gold watch and a couple of flashy diamond rings. And he loves his perfectly groomed pencil moustache. Except, his pants hang low and keep riding way down, dangerously down.

His shy daughter Rosa walks three steps behind her father with her hair in a ponytail and wearing a matronly knee length dress. That plain jane garment can't hide the bountiful treasures hidden below the drab coloured fabric. Rosa's a twenty-one year old, jet black haired beauty, who possesses a natural smouldering sensuality.

That sensuality oozes and pours from this innocent Catholic girl's body, her eyes, her walk and even her passion-promising protruding posture. This naive virgin harbours no idea of the uplifting effect she has on males with any hint of testosterone, or to any of the ladies that swing that way.

Joey halts at the front counter, hitching up his low-down pants. He hits the counter with a whack, scaring all three Golf Pros. He glares at the three of them for a long moment, seeing who will flinch. "I'm Joey, the Hammer, Corsini, new owner of this joint."

Joey kicks off his introduction with a lie, for the Corsini Godfather owns the place. Joey merely leads the team that has been sent to run it. But Hammer convinced himself on the drive to Palm Springs that he should be the owner, and by saying it, it'll happen in his mind.

Joey rolls his shoulders like a boxer warming up to pummel a smaller opponent. "Are yous guys my Golf Pros?"

Dick wriggles, another anxious drop or two slip out. "Ah, um, yes sir. I'm Dick Short. Sort of the Head Pro around here." He stands up on his tippy toes, mustering up all his confidence, shaking Joey's hand. He winces when he receives a death grip handshake from Joey. "This is Barb, the barracuda, Bond, and Billy, the boozer, Parks. Or some call him Mr. Nose. Just regular Golf Pros."

"Ciao belle!" Joey drools as he shakes Barb's hand, letting it linger on and on as his eyes do a dirty jig.

Joey attempts the macho death grip manoeuvre with Billy. The handshake ends in a split second as Billy smirks when Joey's the one grimacing.

Barb lays a massive I-am-all-yours smile on Joey. "For the record, he's Dick the prick, Short. Not the Head Pro, but short all over."

Joey fills the room with raucous laughter. His lust filled eyes fixate on Barb, while Billy's turned-on eyes focus on Joey's wholesome darling daughter, Rosa. And Billy boy really savours this package of pure Italian paradise.

"Spunky dame," responds Joey. "I like that!"

"Handsome owner!" Barb flutters her eyelashes, touching the new boss on the arm, leaving her hand there for extra suck up seconds. "I really, really like that."

Joey continues a lecherous grin directed at Barb. "This here's my daughter Rosa. Just come from Italy."

"Welcome to Golden Eagle!" Billy lets fly with an admiring wink. "If there's anything I can do?"

A protective Joey steps between Rosa and Billy. "Rosa went to one of them there all girls Catholic Colleges. Gonna work some before going back to Italy and joining the Sisterhood."

"Oh, how nice," Barb says in a sardonic tone. "An angel in our midst."

Billy nudges Barb. "That's a first!"

"My Rosa gonna be the clubs new Booking Manager." Barb's well used mouth drops as Joey carries on, "Staff meeting in bar in one hour."

"Pleased to meet you Dick, Barb and Billy," Rosa says. "You'll teach me so much." And now that innocent sensuality extends to her erotic Italian accent. For Billy's tongue hangs out when she speaks in that breathy manner.

A pompous Joey parades to the door while Rosa's eyes lock on Billy. "Let's go Rosa, gotta case the place."

Timmy Raker bursts through a side door of the Pro Shop. Timmy's a twenty-five year old, over-the-top handsome, blonde haired, big muscled, bashful Greenskeeper. But that bashfulness disappears when it comes to rescuing damsels in distress. "Excuse me. Mr. Martin's ready for his lesson." Timmy lowers his head when all eyes focus on him. "So Sorry."

"Be there in a second Timmy," Billy responds.

Timmy backs out of the door, embarrassment flooding his face. The lovely Rosa stares in awe like she just saw a Greek God, eyes zero in on Timmy's rippling muscles, and magnificently chiselled features.

Joey frowns at Rosa's dreamy look. He's single-mindedly protected his daughter throughout her life, praying she did not inherit the natural sexuality and impulsiveness so prevalent in her late mother and his late wife.

Upon his wife's death many years ago, he hid his daughter away in the dark dungeons of the Catholic education system back in Italy. This is her first step back into America, and back into daylight. Will she get sunstroke from the exposure?

"That's Timmy Raker," informs Billy. "Our temporary, but excellent Greenskeeper."

Joey's forehead furrows. "What the hell's that? Sounds dumb!"

"The stars love their pretty greens," replies Billy.

Joey pushes over a set of golf clubs. "Don't like green boy."

"A cool cat," Billy defends Timmy. "Working here while he tries to get his big break in Hollywood."

"Hate actors!" Joey grinds his teeth as he glares at Billy.

Rosa's gaze dreamily shifts back on Billy as well. Her smouldering hungry eyes radiate like a kid in a candy store. This girl needs sunglasses, or she'll go blind from too much hot male exposure.

Dick thinks he can work this new owner, escalating the suck up process. "Actors are queers! Let me show you around Boss."

"Glad someone got some brains little man." Joey pats Dick on the head. "One other thing, there's a black man fixing a lawn mower out back. Hope he don't work here?"

"That's Henry," explains Billy. "Super guy, best Maintenance Man in the Valley. Were lucky to have him."

Billy's found himself in hot water with the previous owner, whenever he pushed Golden Eagle to bring in racial minorities as employees and members. He was fired once for pushing too hard. Except, after one week of no Billy the Pro Shop was falling apart, and the previous owner was forced to bring Billy back.

Joey growls. "Don't want them kind here." The waving arm new owner exits as fast as he entered with Dick racing after him. Slowly, Rosa unlocks her wide-eyed gaze from Billy. She follows her overprotective father out the door, while her unconscious mind clearly churns on what exciting mysteries lie beneath Billy and Timmy's clothing.

Barb turns to Billy. "Did the Mob just blow through?"

Billy looks to the heavens. "That guy doesn't give up strokes. He gives strokes."

"Booking Manager, the holy brat better be ready to do a clerk job."

Billy flashes a mischievous grin. "She can book me in for a private anytime."

"Get your head out of your pants. Her Poppa will whack your balls off with your three wood."

"Wow Barb! That makes it even hotter. Won't catch me the way his pants ride down. Do you think he knows what a belt is?"

Barb enjoys a long laugh. "Bet those pants are going to drop one day at the most awkward time."

"Hope it happens when he's chasing me."

"Be careful! That girl wants to get fucked so bad. But doesn't know it!" Barb levels a stern look at Billy. "And I'm not bailing you out like with the last owner's niece."

On top of the one firing over race issues, Billy flirted with being sacked for a multitude of valid and invalid reasons with the previous owner. Fortunately, his dedication and skills with dealing with demanding members, and expertise in unofficially managing the Pro Shop always saved his ass. But will employee relations be handled differently by the Mob? Will staff performance evaluations be conducted with a gun in the room? Will the firing and whacking of employees be executed simultaneously?

"Not to worry, I've learned my lesson." Billy's eyes twinkle. "But you know, I've never traveled Italy."

Barb wags a hostile finger at Billy. "Just don't be planning a stroll over to Sweet Bush Corner with Miss Catholic school girl."

"Meow! Is that passion patch just for us to play?"

"Dream on! The barracuda just swallowed you up, and spit you out the one time we..."

Barb will never forget the one occasion the two friends went at it, like two ravenous randy rabbits. She can't believe how hot and steamy it was. How she enjoyed that strong sturdy shaft as Billy calls his best bud. Barb smiles as she remembers just how much she loves to play with a longer sized firm shaft. Billy sure came through.

She'll never forget that quite afternoon when they tossed their clubs aside, stepping behind the protective trees at Sweet Bush Corner. She initiated the athletic act, ripping his pants off like a lust crazed animal, insisting he utilize many angles with that extensive tool. They kicked it off with a standard sixty-nine where Barb gasped at the mouth stretching required, along with the endless ecstasy.

They proceeded on to her preferred pile of intercourse positions. She made him take her from behind. She rode the shaft like a bucking bronc. She spread extra wide for the missionary position. She forced him to perform a couple of twisted tangled angle acrobatics which should have thrown both of their backs out.

Finally, wrapping up with Billy holding her against a tree, locked in an endless passionate kiss. The leaves rained down from the intense rocking, birds leaving their nest in utter fear, multiple orgasms and ear piercing screams spewing out from the two sex champions. The climactic ending gave a rocket bursting, grand finale to the fucking marathon. The two collapsed in total exhaustion, covered in grass, leafs and satisfying sweat.

Barb peeks down at Billy's bulge. She's surprised how quickly her nipples commence to stir and stiffen. She flushes, rubs her hands together and licks her lips. Barb wishes she could control her growing urge for a repeat raunchy romp.

Billy enjoys a knowing chuckle. For he can read Barb's turned-on telling signs. "But Barb, did you ever kill it on the course, after we turned that ball breaking corner!"

THREE

The packed Golden Eagle bar buzzes with nervous chatter before the staff meeting commences. A self-assured Joey positions himself at the front of the room with the other passengers in the fleeing Mob Buick along side. Joey's younger brother, Rocco Corsini, stands to his left.

Rocco is one big heavily muscled guy. He's a slow talking, slow moving 300 pound ox with a small chunk of his left ear missing. He wears a loose fitting, cheap, dark suit, with a stained shirt and clip on tie that has seen better days. He has a handgun protruding out from under his suit coat, and plenty of ammunition weighing down his pant pockets.

Next to Rocco, stands his conceded wife, Sophia Corsini. She's a middle aged tall lady with a bitchy trashy look about her. Sophia's a redhead wearing the latest beehive hairstyle, slutty clothes and gaudy jewelry with her potent cheap perfume choking the room. That arrogant posture she holds lets everyone know they are beneath her, while she puffs on her cigarette, blowing smug smoke rings.

Joey hitches up his slide-down pants, raising his hands in the air as if he's God. "Ciao everyone! Thanks yous guys for coming. Guess yous guys had no choice." Joey and Rocco join in a deep thug-like chortle. Joey carries on, "I'm Joey Corsini, the new owner. Can call me Boss. Or can call me Hammer. But don't call me Joseph."

Dick yells, "Let's hear it for the new Boss!" Dick and Rocco cheer and clap attempting to lead the stunned group. The staff exchange WTF looks, and the applause sounds awkward and artificial.

Joey continues, "Here's my family, my brother Rocco. Gonna be Head of Security."

Rocco raises his ape-like arm. His gun falls clamouring to the floor. The gun fires. A bullet shatters a whiskey bottle on a shelf behind the long finely polished bar. Screams sound from the staff as they dive for cover.

"Calm down," Joey orders the panicking staff. "No problem folks! Just some spilled booze. Some flunky clean that up. And Rocco, safety on for these here staff meetings."

"Ah, okay Joey," says a deep toned Rocco.

He scrambles like an uncoordinated ape to retrieve the gun. Horrified looks from the staff fill the room. Finally, the staff had begun to breathe again after the initial shock of Sophia's perfume. And now Rocco's gun retrieval antics have them holding their breath once again.

Except, the staff inhaling process gets impacted one more time. For Rocco overexerts himself in gathering up his weapon. He releases a monster fart. It can be heard over in LA, and the ripper can be smelt there as well. Between Sophia's perfume and Rocco's farts, they make quite the rank odour couple.

Dick's eyes water. He coughs, attempting one more time to show his leadership. "Come on gang, could happen to anyone. Let's hear it for Rocco!" The stunned-faced, nose holding, hacking stunned crowd gives Rocco no applause.

"Next my sister-in-law," mumbles Joey as he scowls while looking at Sophia. "Rocco's wife, Sophia Corsini, gonna try to jazz up the place. She's Head of Entertainment."

"I'll try to improve things," Sophia grumbles in that Jersey accent. "Not much to work with in this dump." The green eyed Sophia sneers at the staff, putting her nose high in the air, allowing all to see her distinctive heart shaped tattoo on her neck.

Rocco tries to lead the gang with spirited clapping for his wife. A limited response comes from the dumb-struck crowd. Causing the superior-minded Sophia to heighten her sneer at the staff even more, which many thought couldn't be done. Barb responds to the super sneer by sticking her tongue out at the Mob lady.

Joey notices Barb's action and chuckles. Protectively, he puts his arm around his daughter, standing to his right, attempting to hide behind the other three Mobsters. "Last, but not least, my dear sweet daughter Rosa, our new Booking Manager." A timid Rosa turns bright red with embarrassment, but emits a warm genuine smile.

This time Billy steps forward to lead the cheer. "Let's hear it for the lovely Rosa." The staff ingratiates Rosa a warm welcoming applause. Joey, Sophia and Barb fume and glare daggers at Billy. A grateful Rosa graces Billy with an adoring look.

Barb leans over and whispers to Timmy. "Billy's pants are doing the talking."

Joey smacks his fist into his palm. "Time for changes. Time to trim the fat! Gonna cut the payroll. Like one of them golf or tennis pros." He glowers at Billy, then he turns to stare at Timmy. "Maybe the temporary Green Boy." He directs his gaze at Henry. "Maintenance Men are a waste of dough! Starting one on one like meetings tomorrow."

Dick shouts out, "Can't wait for mine Boss."

Joey looks down at Dick. "Time to name a Head Pro."

Dick beams in anticipation. "Good thinking Boss."

"Short men need not apply," Barb hollers. The crowd chuckles. Dick blushes, stands taller, thinking how he'd like to strangle that blonde bitch right now.

"Also, no more free golf or tennis for yous guys." Joey's pants droop another inch, and they're now riding on the private part borderline. "And no more clubhouse discounts too."

"Penis alert," Barb whispers. "And a cheap bastard too." Timmy and Billy laugh with their hands covering their mouth.

Thank goodness Joey hitches up those falling pants before the staff receive another shock. Billy thinks of what he's getting his new Boss for Christmas, if he makes it that long.

"We is gonna turn your staffroom into a private casino," announces Joey with more WTF looks from the staff.

"No problem Boss," Dick says.

Barb whispers a little louder this time. "Why don't you just crawl up his ass Dick?" Billy and Timmy laugh again, with Joey joining in.

"Oh yeah, uniforms." Hammer frowns as he turns to Sophia. "Sophia brought samples of uniforms that yous guys will be wearing inside the joint."

"Picked 'em out herself," adds Rocco. "My dame real classy."

Sophia blows a bubble with her gum while she holds up the uniforms. One looks like something a showgirl would wear, the other like something a dealer in a Vegas casino would sport. And that's exactly where they came from. The uniforms are left overs from the joint this gang ran back in Vegas.

The staff gulp and gasp at what some of them will be wearing. Rocco and Dick cheer and clap, encouraging others to do the same, but not a chance.

"Real nifty!" Dick yells.

Barb blurts out for those around her to hear, "Slut City." A chuckle rings out from that corner of the room.

"All yous guys pay for your own uniforms," insists Joey. "Which yous gotta wear? Or else?" Rocco cracks his knuckles.

Joey wraps up the meeting. "That's it. See we's great guys. Back to work, or we's breaking legs!" Joey and Rocco flood the bar with their thug chortles one more time. The staff flee in shock.

Sophia smiles like a pussy about to trap a frightened mouse. She locks her hungry eyes on the delicious hunk Timmy. "Hey you handsome. I want to see how they look on a real man." Timmy looks down and shuffles his feet. Her long lusty stare undresses the uncomfortable Greenskeeper. "In the back right now, and I want to see just how tight these fit." She studies his crotch, forming an aroused glow about her. Sophia holds up the man's uniform, beckoning Timmy to follow, leaving the bar with a reluctant Greenskeeper trailing along as she yells, "Us Jersey girls love a tight fit."

Rocco shoots jealous daggers at Timmy as they exit. "Kill da bum for flirted with my sweet angel."

Late that night Billy works alone in the back room of the Pro Shop. The club's shut down. Billy's always the last to leave. He doesn't require much sleep as long as he has a bottle near. His glass is full of Canadian Club whisky. He adds up receipts from the day's transactions. Concentrating intensely, he doesn't hear the quiet footsteps slipping up behind him.

"Guess who big boy," whispers a raspy voice while two hands are place over his eyes. Two firm full breasts are pushed up against the back of his neck.

Billy gulps. "Well, you're not the Tooth Fairy. And you're not Goldie Locks, so..."

"Conducting my own one on one interviews." The not so angel-like Sophia slips into Billy's lap. "Your big nose got me wondering." She gives Billy a long sloppy kiss on the lips with plenty of tongue to get the party started. She pulls away, "Wow! What a kisser! Can't wait until you take those wicked lips other places."

Billy shows fear on his face as he stammers, turns and looks out the door, "But, but..."

"Just you and me left in the joint. Let's get this interview started." She grabs Billy's glass and takes a shot. "You know, I've never been in a Golf Club before. Never played golf before. Like a golf virgin." Sophia rubs her hands over Billy's chest. "Will you teach me the game?"

"I, I don't think you need any lessons."

"Ah, come on Billy, just teach me the basic stroke." She runs her fingers threw his hair, planting a gentle kiss on his lips. "Last soft touch we'll have tonight. Cause this Jersey girl wants it rough!" She slaps him on the shoulder. "Real rough!" She kisses Billy's neck and ear, taking a nip from that sensitive earlobe.

"Ouch!" Billy snaps his head back. "Sophia, we can't do this. What about Rocco?"

"Rocco's a stupid goof." She begins sliding her hand down towards Billy's crotch. "Let's just say, he's got more muscle in other places. Than where it counts."

"But, but he'll kill me!"

"That's what makes it so hot!" She lays a passionate kiss on him. "Oh yeah! To be able to kiss a real man! Can't kiss Rocco. His garlic breath kills!"

"So do his fists!"

"Scaredy Cat! Come on Billy boy. Time for some fun. And you'll find us redheads are the best fucks." She wiggles her ass in his lap, letting out a knowing lap-dancer like snicker. "You know, if you play your cards right." She points to her heart shaped mark on her neck. "You can see, grab and kiss the matching one on my sizzling ass."

Sophia has always been able to control and manipulate men with her sexuality. And if that didn't work, she directed her mountain of a husband, or various unsavoury family connections, ensuring she got her way. The list of lovers she left in her wake runs long, with damaged careers and bones piled up behind the aggressive lady's demands.

Billy groans with pleasure. But shows determination by lifting Sophia from his lap, standing, and putting distance between himself and Rocco's wife. He sees that Sophia wears one of the new short skimpy uniforms. His eyes drink in the stimulating sight.

Sophia isn't what you'd call pretty. But she does possess an outstanding body, and with her high heels it appears as if her long legs will never, never end.

She catches the spark in Billy's eye's. This lady's been around, the way she puckers her lips. The way she moves her hands in a provocative manner over her slinky body. And the way she rotates her inviting hips. "Do you like?"

"Umm, you, you look real swell. But..."

"Jeepers! All I get is swell." She pouts. "How's this Tiger?" Sophia executes a slow seductive turn, having her back to him. "Oops! I'm so bad. Dropped something." She bends over, spreading her legs, revealing her best assets. She lets Billy enjoy a first class view of those long shapely limbs, and her jiggling gyrating backend. With those titillating moves on display, there's no doubt Sophia's danced professionally somewhere in her past. And we're not referring to the ballet.

Sophia ran away from her Jersey family for two years back in her late teens. She tried her hand as a stripper in Atlantic City until her family found her and dragged her home. She was sent back to her private school where the refinement project continued. Unfortunately, the only refinement success over her expensive private school years were trimming down her heavy Jersey accent. Everything else, held pure trashy.

Sophia lifts her outfit at the backend, revealing the tattoo. She peeks back at Billy, giving a cheeky wiggle of her ass. "And how'd you like me now big fella?"

Billy begins to sweat, grabs the glass, guzzling the whisky down. "Incredible! When I tell a student to keep their head down and spread their legs, I now have an amazing new stance fixed in my mind."

"That's better!" Sophia completes the rest of the tantalizing turn, ensuring Billy absorbs every inch of her lascivious offerings. "Now let's get down to business." She drops to her knees in front of Billy, and undoes his zipper with her eager fingers. She pulls out the Shaft. "Oh yes, the nose theory never fails." Those expert fingers begin to explore his expanding terrain.

"Wow!" Billy's brains want to explode. For this lady possesses tons of talent in the sex sport.

"How's my grip Billy?"

"Oh, you're a natural!"

She tightens that grip on the throbbing shaft, exerting excruciating pressure, "Err! Remember, I like it rough, big boy. And you certainly are a big boy."

Billy winces. "Ah! But, but we don't want to break the shaft."

Sophia purrs like a conniving cat, stroking the catastrophic club. "Ooh Billy! I love golf!"

"Certainly have picked up the game quickly." Billy moans. "No, no, but we just can't!" He focuses his will on resisting Sophia's expert male manipulation. "Just can't!" He attempts to pull away, determined to flee the escalating sex game.

She hangs on like a hungry dog to a T-bone stake. "Billy, look how he wants to play. My first golf game." Sophia licks her lipstick laden lips. Runs her tongue up and down the swelling Shaft.

Billy's eyes pop out of his befuddled head. "Just not going to..."

"So magnifico! Can't wait until I get it in the hole." Her mouth then begins to expertly work Billy's standing-to-attention Shaft, losing herself in the thrilling game of golf.

FOUR

The next morning the three Golf Pros huddle together at the front counter of the Pro Shop. A fat lipped Billy opened up bright and early like he does every morning. He feels he got away lucky with only a fat lip last night, after Sophia revealed how Rocco lost his piece of ear in a raunchy sex session, where she called the sadistic shots.

Billy started Rosa working on the bookings already — placed the weekly order with their largest supplier — served many members while selling another set of the exciting new irons. He gave the whining Mr. Mortimer a private lesson with those shiny new sticks, while listening to his phoney British accent. Howard complained throughout the session about Golden Eagle's substandard service, especially in regard to Dick and Barb.

Now why would anyone complain about the two Golf Pros? For Dick and Barb have just waltzed in. The two are late as usual. But they know Billy will always handle things, covering their lazy asses. The two tardy Golf Pros glow with beaming smiles. They both feel this will be their long awaited day where each grasps their illusive dream.

Barb oozes sexuality wearing a slinky low top, showing plenty of eye catching cleavage. Her short golf skirt reveals lots of sun tanned shapely leg. Dick wears the flashiest of tailor made golf attire. Those bold bright colours and patterns are blinding, making him stand out like a peacock at a crow convention. The three stand alone as there's a momentary lull in activity in the Pro Shop, and Rosa has stepped into the back.

Dick demands, "No bashing each other today in our one on ones."

"Game for that," responds a tired Billy.

"Sure." Barb surveys Dick's face. "But it'll be hard."

"One of you will have to go," Dick says. "No use me playing favourites."

Barb pats Dick on the head, pulling his bright red, green and yellow cap over his eyes. "Don't be too cocky Dick the dork. What happens if Joey doesn't like short chumps?"

Dick straightens his cap, rising up on his tip toes, which is a goto move for the man. "I'm not short. Got it where it counts."

Billy and Barb burst out laughing. Billy then turns to Barb and grins in appreciation. "Wow! Someone who does have it all in the right places. Looking hot!"

She begins to leave, supporting a huge cocky smile. "I'm first up. Hope Hammer likes the brand new outfit." Barb twirls for the guys. She exits with a watch-me wriggle in her walk that has a worn out Billy wanting to stand to attention. Except, Billy feels beat in more ways then one after wrestling with Sophia. He shakes his head in disbelief, touching his fat lip.

Dick hits the counter. "That's not fair!" He massages his fist. When will this guy learn his fists aren't hammers?

Billy chuckles at Dick's pained face. "She's got the tools, use them."

"Damn! She's gonna squeeze in on my Head Pro dream."

"But you put on a stunning outfit for Joey too."

"Piss off! We've got to stop that broad!"

"But Dick, she might make a great Head Pro. The guys love watching her practice from behind."

Dick fumes, propelling a golf bag to the floor. "That's my job. And don't forget it, Rudolph."

Ever since Dick was a spoiled kid, hanging around his parent's exclusive golf club back on the East coast, he wanted to be Head Pro at a high end course. Desperately, Dick desires the respect he'd command and demand, from Golden Eagle staff, members and from his family, if only he could acquire that illusive title.

"Just pulling your short leg Dick. Don't get your panties in a knot."

Dick pokes Billy in the chest multiple times. He also hates when those jokes about his masculinity are made. "Start showing me respect."

Billy utilizes a sincere tone, "You know Dick. You're right. I apologize for any of those inappropriate comments I've made. That was wrong of me. I'm truly sorry!"

"Oh, go fuck yourself Rudolf the whopper snout!"

"But I do respect you, and I am sorry!"

"Stick your apology up your ass. I don't need you. Going to be Head Pro." Dick pokes Billy with all his force. "And I'll do anything to get it. And I mean anything!"

A self-important Joey leans back in the big black leather chair in his spacious office. An enticing Barb perches across from him. She crosses her legs in that seductive manner, letting the new owner know she's open to negotiate. Joey leers at Barb's opening offer. "So, you wanna be on the gals Pro Tour?"

"You bet, and I'll do anything to get there Boss," Barb replies with a ravish-me raspy tone. "Or can I call you, Big Hammer?"

"Know what they say about some of them there giant gals on that tour?"

"I don't swing from the other side." Barb leans over and touches Joey on the hand. "Like a rough and ready man." She winks again. "Like you!" Joey gulps, lust charged blood flooding his lower zone.

She peers deep into Joey's one track eyes. "Look Hammer, I want that tour."

"Like a dame with ambition."

"Got talent too." Barb leans forward so the Boss can get a better view of her two girls, and a better whiff of her never-fail exotic perfume.

"Bet you do." Joey sweats and stares at the smooth ripe cleavage being offered up. "But Honey, are you strong enough?"

"Please, please teach me to be strong." Another tantalizing touch on Joey's hand with a salacious squeeze from Barb. "You seem like a strong guy who gets what he wants."

"Oh Sweetie, Hammer takes what he wants."

Barb gushes. "Ooh, love it when a real man like yourself calls me sweetie." She enjoys this flirting game. For she does find the older man somewhat attractive. And when he slipped his suit coat off earlier, she did check out his surprisingly firm backend, which met her ever changing screwing standards.

"Don't worry about a thing Sweetie. Me and you gonna be real close."

"Ooh." She puckers her inviting lips in an alluring way that has never failed her. "The closer the better, Big Hammer!"

Joey delights in a lengthy licentious smile. "Tour getting closer. Real, real close. But, I wanna special favour."

Barb stands up with a sultry smirk, inch by suggestive inch sliding her hands over her steamier body parts, using a breathy whisper, "Okay Big Hammer! Anything you want, and I mean anything!"

He strokes his waxed moustache as his eager eyes widen. His blood pressure skyrockets. His mind anticipates his one dimensional option. "Anything I want!"

"Oh yeah!" Barb blows Joey an inviting kiss, leaning way, way over the desk, letting those two persuasive girls complete the final negotiation.

Meanwhile, Billy works with Rosa, going through the various functions the Pro Shop requires of her to perform. He finds Rosa catches on quickly. She's extremely co-operative and pleasant to work with. She brings no spoilt girl attitude to the job. She possesses an excellent work ethic, and get-it-done approach. In spite of the frantic morning, the two have found themselves laughing and joking with each other as if they have worked together for years.

A short lull in the Pro Shop occurs, no members around. Billy smiles at Rosa. "I can't believe what a difference you make in here. You're amazing with the members. And the efficient manner in which you're organizing things."

"Thank you Billy." She gazes at him with her black penetrating eyes. "That means so much to me."

Billy shakes a determined head, knowing there will be no more fooling with any member of Joey's family after last night. Definitely, Rosa's off limits. He'll be strong. "No! I want to thank you. You're going to be a key part of our Golden Eagle team going forward. And I want to help you get as much out of this experience as you can."

Billy can't remember feeling this relaxed and comfortable with any female for ages. He's glad that she dressed very plain. For there are no thoughts of sex in either of his heads. Sophia's insatiable appetite last night has a great deal to do with his sorry state.

"And if ever you need a supportive friend, please call." Rosa reaches over and touches him on the hand, the way a Sister of the Catholic Church would comfort someone. "You're a good man. But Billy, you carry deep scars."

Billy can't believe her depth of understanding. He graces her with a sincere look and whispers, "You're so right." He smiles in the affectionate way he used to look at his sister. "You know, for some reason, I think you and I are going to become fine friends."

Rosa clasps the cross hanging on a thin worn chain she wears around her neck, looking into his eyes. She touches him on the cheek. "My special friend." She reaches over and plants a passionate kiss on Billy's lips.

Joey sits in his chair, sporting a satisfying smirk as he oversees this grovelling parade. Dick fidgets in the chair across from him, knowing he must pull out all the stops. For Joey's glow reeks of a satisfaction story, advertising Barb's success in scoring major points with the Boss.

"Real pleasure to be working for a smart successful business man like yourself," Dick says as he warms up his suck up drill.

Joey savours the compliment, glowing even brighter. "Like your threads."

"Right back at you, Boss."

Joey feels like he's won the kiss-the-boss's-ass sweepstakes with the way first Barb, and now Dick, kowtow to him. "You're my kinda boy." Joey leans over and lightly taps Dick on the hand. "We'll be real good pals."

"As, as your pal, want to warn you to watch Billy. Keep him away from your innocent Rosa."

Joey hammers his fist on the oak desk. "Better not or he's dead!"

Dick beams as he realizes that Joey and him have the fist pounding habit in common. Dick assumes that's probably how Joey acquired the Hammer handle. He wants to show Joey that he's backing him all the way, and he can be heavy fisted as well.

Dick smacks the desk, wincing in pain. "Then there's that incompetent Barb. Pisses off so many members. Just a big mouth."

A mega smile fills Joey's face. "Real, real big mouth!"

Dick rises, beginning to pace like a coy coyote. "Both should be fired, Boss. Make me the Head Pro, and I'll do it."

Joey rubs his chin as he ponders. "Think that Head Pro getting closer." He lets out a sly snigger. "But, wanna real special favour from my boy."

"Rosa! Get me coffee!" Yells Sophia as she storms into the Pro Shop. Rosa and Barb are helping a darling old couple line up private lessons and tee times.

"Please, just one minute Sophia," begs Rosa. "We almost have this wonderful couple all set up."

"Don't give a fuck!" Sophia stomps her foot. "I want coffee, and I want it now!"

Sophia turns her eyes to Barb, studying the Golf Pro. Methodically, The redhead chews her Wrigley's Doublemint gum, throwing killing knives with her hate filled eyes. For Sophia's street smart. She senses something has just gone on. She sees it in Barb's blue eyes. She knows Barb had a one on one with Joey within the last half hour. Sophia's positive it ended up similar to some of the intimate one on ones she enjoyed with Hammer over the years.

Rosa flinches and fusses. "But, but..."

The elderly lady puts a comforting hand on Rosa. "You go ahead dear. We can wait."

Barb scowls at Sophia. "I can finish up Rosa. Go ahead."

"Move it Rosa!" Sophia screams with Rosa scrambling to follow. Sophia turns her back in a huff as she leaves the room with Barb sticking out her tongue at the Jersey Queen. Sophia catches the rude gesture out of the corner of her eye and bellows, "Fuck you bitch!"

Billy's turn for the one on one meeting. Joey frowns, leaning forward in his big black leather chair. Wile Billy exudes a pleasant aura as he relaxes across from Hammer. Joey waits an eternity before he speaks, continuing to glare at Billy. Joey snaps a pencil in two. "Understand you're the chump that hired Henry."

"Yes, I was. Henry's been an outstanding employee."

"Fire him Billy."

"Why? We need him." Henry reminds Billy of the Maintenance Man, who worked at the orphanage that he spent a good part of his youth at, after his Father abandoned the family and his mother passed away. That good natured Maintenance Man got an out-of-control Billy interested in golf, saving his life.

"You know why!" Joey hits the desk. "Better learn to do what I say."

Billy shuffles his feet, shaking his loyal head. "I won't fire Henry."

"Strike one in my books. And I know about your other strikes. Are you a boozer?"

Purposely, Billy slurs his speech, "I like a drink." The Golf Pro chuckles. "Or two." He laughs louder. "Or three."

"You a real wise guy. Hate wise guys."

"Means you don't like guys who have some semblance of intelligence."

Joey's fingers grip the desk as his anger begins to grow. "Are you a college queer?"

"USC Golf Scholarship."

Joey strikes his desk with cup rattling force. "Hate college boys. Got fourth grade, don't need no more learnin."

Billy steadies the quivering coffee cup with the stylish Golden Eagle emblem, as it was about to dive off the edge of the desk. "Imagine Rocco's right up there with the learnin too."

"Rocco's gifted in other ways. And don't forget it Billy."

"That muscle is sure a gift."

"And I gotta different kinda muscle." Joey removes a gun from his suit jacket and places it on the desk. "Stay clear of my Rosa."

Billy gulps. "Rosa's very talented. Make a fine Nun, if that's what she wants."

"She's gonna be a Nun! Bring honour to me and the family."

"Hope you've asked her what she wants?"

"It's what I want!" Joey grasps the cup Billy saved, smashing it against the wall. "Don't like your big schnoz! And don't like you"

Billy jumps in his chair. "Ahem, here's the deal. You're a gambling man. Calculate the odds."

"Odds of what?"

"If you fire me, a certain percentage of your star clients will follow me to my next club."

Joey points a threatening finger at Billy. "No, No, Hollywood powder puffs gonna leave."

Billy shrugs his shoulders. "We'll see. How many can you afford to lose?"

"Listen up!" Joey growls like a bear fresh out of the hibernation cave. "No smart aleck threatens the Hammer."

"No threats, basic fourth grade math."

Joey levels murderous eyes at Billy, grabbing the gun on the desk. "Gonna fix you but good."

The colour drains from Billy's face as he sits erect in his chair. Joey stands. He points the gun at Billy and screams, "Your fired!"

FIVE

A dejected Billy stumbles straight to the Golden Grill in a dazed stupor. He plunks himself down beside Barb, across from Susan Clark at the lunch counter. Susan's a middle aged, attractive lady with a warm reassuring smile and comforting aura. She runs the Golden Grill at the Golden Eagle Golf and Tennis Club.

Susan carries herself with poise and grace, wearing a pristine white uniform. Her mid length brunette hair is tied back with a pink ribbon. Chuck the dishwasher, a 19 year old skinny kid, works in the background, stacking dishes, making plenty of noise. Except, Chuck doesn't hear that noise, for he's deaf.

Billy moans. "I got fired!"

Susan gasps. "Oh no!"

"No way," Barb says.

"I screwed up," Billy confesses. His stomach churns as he ponders what a long line up of stupid mistakes his life consists of, and he never seems to learn.

"What else is new?" Barb's eyes narrow. "You're such a fuck up!" Barb hasn't grasped the concept that kicking someone when they are down isn't cool. Except, what races through her mind, if Billy's gone, who will do all the work?

"Joey called my bluff," admits Billy. "I said some stars would follow me wherever I go."

Susan raises a quizzical eyebrow. "You sure that was a bluff?"

Billy sighs in defeat. "Nobody's following my drunken ass anywhere."

Barb slaps Billy on the back. "Agree your a drunken ass, not so sure about the other."

"Those stars do love you Billy," Susan says. "Please don't worry! Other clubs will line up to hire you." She turns to Barb. "And how was your session?"

Barb groans. "Half sold myself to the devil. Worth it!"

Billy's jaw drops. "You're kidding!"

Barb smacks her lips. "Just a quick, and I mean quick, non-mouthwatering massage of the Hammer's hammer."

Susan's forehead creases. "Oh Barb! It'll never end."

Barb shivers. "He turned out to be a fucking pig! But Pro Tour here I come."

"Are you sure doing that farm animal is worth the dream?" Susan asks.

"Oink! Oink! You bet," answers Barb as she grimaces.

Susan squeezes her eyes shut. "That guy gives me the creeps."

"Sweats like all the farm animals thrown in as one," grumbles Barb.

"So he's not a passionate Italian stallion?" Susan inquires.

"Slimy soggy meatball," replies Barb. "Does have a decent size Italians salami. But its crooked as hell!"

The famous actor/singer Dean, who is known for his over alcohol consumption act, busts into the Golden Grill, staggering up to Billy slurring, "Word's out, Billy's Farewell Party in the bar. Come on Barracuda." Dean grabs Barb's hand and drags the two out of the Golden Grill.

Susan commences to clean up the lunch counter. Joey sneaks into the room, stares at her for a long moment.

"Hey you, Dish Boy, beat it!" Joey yells.

"Leave him alone," Susan orders. "Chuck's deaf."

Joey cracks his knuckles. "You seem real fond of the kid."

"He has done some time. Attempting to go straight."

Joey hitches up his slipping pants. "I should fire one from this here dive."

"What you should do is fire your tailor."

Joey snarls like a tiger about to attack. "Smart mouth. I can make things real, real tough on you. Unless you was to like, cosy up to me."

"Screw off Crooked Hammer. Or should I say Joseph."

Joey whacks the counter hard. "You know nobody, but nobody talks that way to me. And gets away with it."

A defiant Susan smiles, looking Joey directly in his shifty eyes. "Guess I'm nobody Joseph."

An hour later Joey sits alone in his office with a glass of whiskey in his hand. The phone rings. A slow speaking older man's voice with a heavy Italian accent fills the line, "Joey boy."

Hammer breaks out in a sweat, slamming down a shot of whiskey. "Uncle Vinnie, so, so, so great to here from you."

"Lying to me already," accuses the Godfather of the Corsini family.

"No, no, you know I love you Uncle Vinnie."

"Bullshit Joey! Hears what ya gonna do. First, a foothold for da family outside Vegas."

Some of the Mafia families have encountered tough times on the Strip in Vegas. The new professional run casinos make the original establishments look like they are run by bungling fools. Some of those notorious families have already sold out. Uncle Vinnie and the Corsini's haven't. Although, heading for greener pastures is in the cards. And is Palm Springs in the Coachella Valley considered a green pasture?

"No problem, Uncle Vinnie. You can count on me and Rocco."

"I wish! But I wanna no connection back to da family." Uncle Vinnie clears his throat. "If yous guys catch my drift."

"Nobody would know. We's been real smooth like."

"Why do I doubt that Joey? Second. Make sure them big stars are happy."

"Them stars love us already."

"Doubt that too," Uncle Vinnie snipes. "Finally, real important to treat ya know who right."

Joey wipes his fibbing brow. "Got it, Uncle Vinnie."

"Ya better! Last chance for yous clowns after what happened two nights ago." A loud click sounds as Uncle Vinnie hangs up the phone.

Joey scowls as he slams down the phone receiver. "Hope the old coot croaks!" He reflects on how hard Uncle Vinnie has been on him and Rocco over the years. Just cause they had numerous deals go bad, made a mess of running the small casino they ran in Vegas, ongoing trouble with the law, stole money from the business, and then their was Rocco's wife, Sophia.

An excited Rocco busts into the office. The clumsy man trips over a chair leg and sprawls on Joey's desk, making even that sturdy object let out an agonizing groan. "Them stars having a party for Billy in the bar. Want I go in there, and bust it up?"

"No muscle you gorilla, for now."

Rocco drops into the chair, making it creek and sway. "Ya mean we gonna be real classy Joey?"

"Just the way we's been so far. All respectable like."

Rocco flexes his biceps. "But when we's gonna use our muscle, them golf chumps, they'll scare easy."

"Got that right, Rocco."

"And starting with Timmy. My saintly Sophia making a big play to keep the pretty Green Boy."

Rocco idolizes his Sophia. He wishes they'd have kids. But it wasn't in the cards, so he thinks. Sophia ensured there were no kids, and there was very limited sex for her slow minded, garlic-breath husband. Although with other men, the door was usually open. In fact, it was always wide open.

Joey coughs and smirks. "And my Rosa, making the same play to keep Billy." Joey kicks his garbage can. "Go ahead! Scare Green Boy for fun. I've taking care of Billy. And gonna fire Henry in two minutes. Ain't gonna be coloureds at this joint!"

"Yah!" Rocco rubs his hands together. "Can't wait to have Timmy boy pissing his pants."

"Then I'll fire 'em for making moves on your saintly," Joey coughs again, "Sophia."

Often, Joey has thought of cluing in the naive Rocco on his cheating wife. But, he hasn't had the heart to crush the big guy. Also, didn't want to be near the dangerous whack job when the unfaithful-wife reality surfaces, and his violent brother loses it.

Rocco cracks his huge knuckles, which sounds thunderous compared to when Joey performs that tough-guy act. "And when Timmy gonna go missing, who cares if them greens aren't as pretty."

"Golf's a dumb game. Chasing balls round."

"Hate it Joey! When can me and my delicate Sophia go back to Vegas?"

"You know why you and that Jersey angel," Joey coughs one last time, "are here."

Late afternoon as the bar at Golden Eagle rocks with loud music, and overflows with drunken golfers at Billy's Farewell Party. Billy, Barb, Susan and Timmy share a circular bar table. Numerous drinks crowd that wobbly table. Or is it Billy that's wobbly? Many well wishers surround the blasted Billy, giving the club's favourite former Golf Pro encouraging words and pats on the back.

Barb yells, "What a turn out of stars!"

Billy takes a shot from a whiskey glass with the Golden Eagle emblem embedded on it and slurs, "Ah, going to miss everybody." He looks at his glass with affection. "And going to miss these beauties."

Barb nudges Billy. "Heard Hammer broke one of Golden Eagle's famous coffee cups when he fired you?"

"That jerk," Susan mutters. "I love those."

"Going to be a lot more smashed round here," Billy blubbers. "Bet there'll be more glasses smashed then the cups broken when a Corsini is in the room."

"I'll take that bet," says Barb. "Which ever has more smashed in the next six months, or first to smash a dozen? Loser pays for an all expenses weekend for the winner to Pebble Beach."

"And Henry can be the judge cause he knows everything that happens around here," adds Timmy. Except, will Henry be around to judge the breaking bet?

Billy nods with his glazed eyed look. "You're on Barracuda."

Barb pumps her fist in the air. "And I'm up by one already cause of Joey's cup breaking."

"Sure, sure," Billy agrees. "Got to, got to have the Golden Eagle emblem on them."

"For sure sucker." Barb shakes Billy's hand confirming the bet.

Susan chuckles at the outlandish bet. "More cups broke, Barb wins. More whiskey glasses broke, Billy wins. You're all crazy. But nothing compared to the Corsini brothers." All laugh and clink a toast to that statement.

Billy sways in his chair, Timmy holding him up. "Have they talked to you Timmy?"

"Rocco wants to chat. Cracks his knuckles when he sees me."

Billy breaks out with drunken laughter, swaying even more. He claps Timmy by the shoulder to keep himself from toppling. "Hope he, hope he knows you're a karate world champ."

"Not his fists I'd be worried about." Barb fans herself. "That breath!"

Their waitress Maria Rodriguez slips up to the table. Maria's an early twenties Latino with striking looks and an incredible figure. Her humongous breasts burst out of the new sleazy uniforms brought by Sophia. Maria sets a drink on the already crowded table. "Another for you Billy, this one's from Bing." She sets another drink down. "And this fancy cocktail, well, even Mr. Mortimer bought you a drink."

"What the hell's that concoction?" Barb sniffs at it.

Maria titters. "Can't pronounce it. But mucho dinero. Man, we gonna miss you Billy."

"Maria, going to miss working with our highest earner. Queen of the tip parade." Maria's another hire Billy pushed for at the club, breaking the race barrier one more time. Loved by all the members, and she's a dedicated hard worker.

Maria titters again with a gleam in her eye. "And I'm gonna miss your whopping daily tip."

"Can I, can I please get a special farewell gift tonight?" Billy begs as Maria steadies the teetering man.

Playfully, Maria squeezes the departing Golf Pro's arm. "Oh Billy! So tempting, for word's you have quite the putter." She taps his nose. "But, no, no. We can never. I'd give you a stroke like Barb did." Maria plants a quick kiss on Billy's cheek and heads off. The shy Maria can only joke like this with Billy. For with the other staff and patrons, she's super polite, but no flirting.

The one fella who'd love to have her flirt with him is Timmy. He becomes tongue-tied around the Latino beauty. As does the four foot eleven Maria when Timmy comes near, becoming every bit a shy and awkward with the six foot four Greenskeeper. What will it take to get these two to tango with more than their hungry eyes?

Dean staggers up to the table and puts his arm around Billy. "We're gonna miss our Billy. Who's gonna pour my drinks out on the course?"

"Barb will," replies Billy.

Dean takes his arm away from Billy, wavering back and forth, tapping his head. "Can't concentrate on my balls when the Barracuda's around."

"She, she does pour a stiff one," Billy says. The group all laugh with Barb slapping Billy on the shoulder, but with a small tear in her eye. She will miss the crazy Golf Pro, who teases her, who talks to her, who listens to her and who does all of the work. And most importantly, Billy was the one who put his job on the line to bring her into the club, smashing the male-only Golf Pro gender barrier.

Dean stands up a little straighter. "The gang thinks we should move over to that swanky new Rancho Mirage Golf Club."

"How, how many are thinking of moving?" Billy inquires.

"All the partying pack," replies Dean. "And we'll leave that pompous ass Howard Mortimer behind."

Barb's revealing eyes widen. "And you'd actually leave Golden Eagle?"

"But only if Billy comes with us," Dean responds.

Billy slurps some whiskey. "Sounds like sun. I mean, fun." More drunken laughter spews out from him. "But I, I got to get a job there first."

Dean puts his arm around Billy again. "Just leave that to us!"

Joey stands in the middle of his office with an apprehensive Rocco and Dick sitting in chairs. An upset Hammer waves his hands as he yells at his two boys, "What'd yous mean the big shots are talking about leaving?"

"And taking Billy where they go," Dick chimes in.

Joey points an accusing finger at Dick. "Thought you was the guy in with the big shots?"

"Umm" Dick cowers in his chair. "They, they love me! But it's the booze talking. Billy got 'em all stirred up."

Joey starts to pace. "Me and Rocco should go in there and break legs." Rocco jumps out of his chair and begins to leave. "Sit down you dummy." A disappointed look envelops Rocco's big mug. He sits down like a whipped puppy, making that poor chair cry out in pain, one step from collapsing.

Joey stops and looks at Dick. "Here's what you gonna do Dick. Pull this off, and we's gonna be calling you, Head Pro."

A Police Officer strides up to Billy in the Golden Eagle bar while the farewell bash continues to rage on. Billy sways in the centre of a group of well wishers. He holds a large drink in his hand, clearly at the advance drunk stage. Joey, Rocco and Dick hover one step behind Officer Rossini from the Palm Springs Police Department.

Officer Rossini yells in his Italian accent, "Billy Parks." A hush falls over the bar.

Billy attempts to straighten up, a foggy boozed brain not operational. He sways with a silly grin. "What can, what can I do for?" He pauses, for the words stop as his eyes glaze over, "For you, Officer, want a drink?"

"Billy Parks, you're under arrest for robbery." Multiple gasps fill the room.

"What?" Billy mumbles.

Officer Rossini shoves Billy. "500 dollars was found in your car. Exact amount missing from the safe of the Golden Eagle Pro Shop." Officer Rossini slaps handcuffs on Billy, reading him his rights.

Billy leans against a pole to keep himself erect. A moment passes, a bit of the situation dawns on him. "But, but I didn't."

Susan steps forward. "This is a joke!" Many in the crowd agree.

"Fuck off Miss Golden Grill," shouts Joey. "Yous next on my list." Out of a corner of Joey's eye, he catches his first glimpse of Maria, realizing he has another issue to deal with.

Rocco steps in front of Susan and shoves her backward, knocking her to the floor.

Timmy takes a step forward. Susan commands, "Stop! Not worth it." The Greenskeeper swallows hard as he decides, then helps Susan rise to her feet.

Rocco delivers vicious glares at Susan and then the rest of the room. "Back off! Leave this to us pros." He then points his massive finger at Timmy. "Yous one step from being an ugly boy. But gonna make that happen real soon like."

Barb yells, "Breathe on him one more time, Garlic Man, and you'll have done the job!"

Rocco's dangerous snarls now focus on Barb and then other staff in the room. "And I'll fix all of yous." He gives Billy a firm push. "Take the bum away Officer Rossini." The crowd mutters in disgust.

Joey holds up his hands for quiet and bellows, "We's gonna run a respectable joint here. This drunken loser stole our money cause I fired him. We's not gonna tolerate crooks!" Hammer smirks. "Thank goodness an honest Italian cop was round to catch the bum."

SIX

Later that night Joey stands at his desk while talking on the phone. He holds a gigantic Cuban cigar. "Your flunky's selling drugs right under your nose. Tell the bum to cease. Or decease." He listens for a moment as he enjoys a long satisfying drag. "You knows nothing. Going forward, we's gonna control drugs in the Valley. Once we's dealt with the Romano family. So keep that there low life off our turf. Or else!" Joey lets out a low menacing chuckle. "Also, wanna personal type favour. Or you pay a heavy price." He slams down the phone receiver while Rocco and Dick bust into the office all smiles.

"Bail gonna be posted real high," Rocco informs Joey.

Dick does a triumphant jig. "Boozing Billy going to dry out for a long while."

"Coppers turning out to be real co-operative." Joey taps Dick on the head. "And you been doing them there special favours for me real nice like."

Dick stands taller. "Anything you want Boss."

"How them big stars taken this?" Rocco asks.

Dismissively, Joey waves his cigar in the air. "No problem! Bought 'em boys buckets of booze. Bad mouthed Billy some more."

Dick rubs his hands together. "They love us guys Boss."

Joey scowls. "Except that bitching Mortimer. What's his issue?"

"Howard sees himself as the spokesman for the members," Dick explains.

"I'll slice that Limey into pieces if he doesn't shut up," threatens Joey. "But the rest drunk like thirsty piggies. Them glitter and glitz queers ain't gonna go nowhere. And to top off the evenings fun, I fired that Mexican gal. Don't need 'em types in our joint."

Dick nods. "For sure Boss! We won't miss Henry either." He cackles. "And Sammy can go stuff it, even if Henry's his uncle."

Joey touches his eye. "That one eyed chump shouldn't be a member here neither."

"That's Billy again," says Dick. "Pushing those types on us."

"Things gonna be different round this joint." Joey double pumps his fist. "And round this here town."

"Yah Joey," Rocco agrees as he drops into a chair. This time the poor chair capitulates and crumbles under the giants immense weight. It leaves Rocco sprawling on the floor.

"Ah Rocco! Stop being so fucking hard on the furniture," Joey rebukes the uncoordinated galoot. "Cost us guys a fortune back in our Vegas joint."

Rocco rises to his feet and hangs his head. "Sorry, Joey."

"Figurati, big fella. Things gonna be different here." Joey thumps his chest and pronounces, "Palm Springs is our town. And Rocco, time to step out from behind our uncle's shadow."

Joey has always wanted to be number two in the family behind Uncle Vinnie who never had any children of his own. The fight for number two has been between Uncle Vinnie's nephews over the last few years. But Joey's never been in the discussion for the number two role, with Eddie Corsini, who is the apple of Uncle Vinnie's eye, practically operating in that capacity already. Oh and how Joey hates that smart ass college graduate Eddie.

Dreamily, Hammer ponders if that fight is really over. For even though, it appears more and more that cousin Eddie, will most likely succeed Uncle Vinnie as the next Godfather of the Corsini clan, maybe a long shot like Hammer still has a chance. But Joey snaps out of his temporary trance, shaking his head, accepting the reality that he'll never be number one or two or three, and breaking free of the family is his best course of action.

"Boys!" Joey thumps his chest again. "Time for us to show that old man, we's running this here Coachella show. And he ain't pushing us guys around."

"Damn right!" Dick pounds the desk, but injures himself in the process again. "Ouch!" He massages his swollen paw. He grimaces from the failed macho attempt. This fist pounding can't be helping Dick's golf game.

"In fact, wanna speed up the timeline for making this joint more like a casino," Joey announces with a firm tone. "Even though Uncle Vinnie doesn't."

Rocco puts up his hand. "But, but doesn't Uncle Vinnie-"

Joey interrupts, "Shut up, Chair killer! Going forward, what I says goes! And we's gonna put slots all over this dump. In the Bar, the Pro Shop, and even the bathrooms. And, the Golden Grill will be whacked. All slots!"

"Exciting!" Dick smirks as he realizes just how stupid these clowns actually are, and how the snobby members will revolt, especially that know-it-all Hollywood power player Howard Mortimer. But Dick thinks that as long as he gets his Head Pro gig, who cares. He'll continue to lead the suck up parade. "And when will we convert the staffroom? That's a great idea Boss!"

"Real, real soon. Got some work to do, but bada bing! We's swimming in dough."

"And let the good times roll," says Dick.

"Bingo! That there gonna be where the high-stakes fancy gambling will go on," informs Joey. "Along with private like parties, if you know what I mean."

Rocco releases a slow knowing chuckle as he gets the drift. "Oh, yeah Joey! Just like in Vegas."

"Until your sweet wife," Joey coughs, "screwed that up."

Rocco looks down. "Not, not my dainty doves fault."

Joey grinds his teeth, shaking his head. "Oh, Rocco! Anyway, things gonna be different. Thinking of calling the private joint, Joey's Place."

"Catchy name Boss," Dick praises. "You're so smart." Mr. Short holds back a snicker, thinking how he will play these clued-out chumps while he cruises down easy street.

"Glad you sees things straight, Dick. Or should I say, Head Pro."

The phone rings. Joey snatches it up. "King of Palm Springs speaking." He lets out an arrogant laugh.

"King of the toilet more like it," comes from Uncle Vinnie.

"Uncle Vinnie, got everything under control."

"Got nothing under control," scolds the Corsini Godfather. "Big stars called the Rancho Mirage Club owned by them Romano boys."

"Them dirty rotten bums." Joey touches his gun in his suit pocket.

"They's thinking of leaving Golden Eagle."

"But bought 'em stars drinks," Joey explains. "We'll whack 'em."

"Ya can't whack 'em. Knew all about that set up of Billy Parks."

"Who squealed? I'll whack 'em."

"So obvious Joey. And why would ya piss off Sammy like that? How can we be family?"

Joey begins to answer, "Well your sister's—"

"Shut up! Just got off the phone, talked the Romano family into settling this here situation like gentlemen."

Joey smacks his chair. "We's gonna go in their club and break some legs. That'll show 'em we's gentlemen."

"Yous two were so stupid from your first diapers. The battle with them Romano boys is coming over the drug control in the Valley. But, for this here unfortunate mess yous clowns created, we's acting civilized."

Joey scratches his head. "What's that mean?"

"Gonna host a golf match."

"Fucking golf! Uncle Vinnie, Dai, dai, dai!"

"Stop whining Joey. Make it happen. Between each guys best Pros. Straight up, no fixing nothing! Got it."

Joey's thick eyebrows tighten. "Our best Pro."

"Better win. Or yous clowns lose the stars. And maybe something else. Cause I don't wanna have to send Eddie." There's a click as Uncle Vinnie hangs up the phone.

Joey throws the phone at the wall. "Fuck! One of these days." He turns to Dick. "Okay little man, you gotta beat Rancho Mirage's best Golf Pro."

"I, I, I couldn't beat Spunky Walker. Second best golfer in the Coachella Vally," Dick curls up into a ball, waiting to be struck.

This reminds Dick of the time as a high school senior when a certain teacher delivered a specific kind of punishment and pleasure. That initiation started him down a long and unconventional sexual path. It resulted in his banishment from the family, the golf club he worked at, and from the East coast.

Joey cries out, "Then get the best dam golfer in the Valley. And gotta get him by tomorrow."

Dick trembles with fear and whispers, "Well Boss, the, the best golfer's Billy."

"What'd you say?" Joey picks up a Golden Eagle coffee cup.

"Please Boss! Don't hurt me. A sober Billy Parks!"

Joey hurls the cup against the wall, shattering it to pieces. "Bullshit!"

Rocco stands. "Who'd I need to squeeze Boss?" Violence is Rocco's solution to almost every situation. That's why his list of crimes runs lengthy and serious. Unfortunately, every charge involved excruciating pain, suffering and enormous hospital bills for someone else.

"Shut up, Garlic Breath," Joey says. "Here's what I'll do. Cut a deal with them cops."

Dick nods his head. "Great idea Boss! Let him out for the day."

An evil grin emerges on Joey as he plays with his moustache. "I'll promise Billy shit. Then win or lose. The bum's back in the slammer."

SEVEN

"I'm the Queen of this club now. So fuck off Bitch!" The taller Sophia stands in the middle of the deserted walkway behind the Pro Shop directly in Barb's path.

Barb looks up in surprise. She was lost in her thoughts while coming back from giving an early morning private lesson. The lesson was originally to be given by Billy. But he now sits unemployed and in jail. She halts in front of Sophia. "What are you talking about?"

The intimidating Sophia gives Barb her signature sneer. "Nobody sticks their tongue out at me twice. You blonde tramp." She takes a threatening step towards Barb, throwing her lit cigarette on the ground. "There's no room for two Queen bees in this joint. So clear out!"

"I'm not going anywhere! Excuse me. I have work to do." Barb attempts to walk by Sophia.

Sophia accelerates her gum chewing velocity whenever her brain contemplates violence. This sits as one of those occasions where a red haired, red alert eruption looms close. Her gum chewing hits alarm ringing territory over the next few seconds as her green eyes narrow.

Sophia's hand shoots out, grabbing Barb by the hair. "You fucking bitch!" Barb screams and attempts to break loose of the grip. Sophia pulls harder. She slaps Barb across the face with her free hand.

"You may have conned Joey." Sophia slaps her again. "You fucking slut. But you don't fool me." Barb squirms, struggling to escape.

Rocco hears the screams and rumbles as fast as he can which isn't fast. He only focuses on Barb trying to defend herself by pushing Sophia away. This enrages the giant. He lumbers puffing and panting to Sophia's aid. "Ya gonna pay." He grabs Barb, swirling her around to face him. "Nobody roughs up my precious gem." He smacks Barb on the shoulder, sending her to the ground in tears. He moves to inflict more punishment as he steps toward Barb. He ceases her by the hair while she lay on the ground.

"Work her over!" Sophia screams. She kicks Barb in the ribs.

Timmy, the knight in shining armer, witnessed the exchange from the eighteenth green. He races up, arriving as Rocco cruelly raises Barb by the hair. "That's enough!" Timmy commands as he grips Rocco's arm and neck, beginning a paralyzing hold. It forces a red faced Rocco to let go.

"Thank you," Barb mutters between the tears as she falls back to the ground.

Ever so slowly, Timmy disengages from the giant and steps back.

Rocco turns, glaring at Timmy. "I'll kill you."

"Don't hurt 'em Rocco," pleads Sophia as she gives the striking Greenskeeper the once over.

Rocco points a menacing finger at Timmy. "Gonna break ya up one bone at a time!" He takes a vicious swing at Timmy. A well executed block by Timmy, followed by a lightening attack with well aimed powerful punches and kicks. Rocco lies out cold.

"You killed my husband." Sophia kneels by Rocco's side.

Timmy smirks. "He's just fine!" He snatches up a nearby garden hose. He sprays cold water at the not-so-gentle giant.

Rocco begins to sputter and mumble. "What, what happened?" He looks around with a dazed look on his face, and a well deserved shiny new black-eye.

"You just got hit by lightening," Barb replies as she rises from the ground.

Timmy pulls a large pack of breath mints out of his pocket and hands it to Rocco. "A peace offering, big fella. Let's put this behind us." Timmy assists the shaky Rocco to his feet.

A woozy Rocco rises, rubbing that massive skull. "Da, but..."

"Got your ass kicked by a better man." Sophia enjoys another admiring look at Timmy, salivating over the massive muscles, wishing she could engage in her own type of wrestling session with the handsome hulk. She smiles and winks at him. Then turns to Barb, "I'm not done with you."

"Go to hell," Barb says with a not so confident tone. She commences to walk away thinking what a frightening whack job this lady really is. Thoughts begin to arise in Barb's mind of fleeing this club and this psycho Mob couple.

Sophia shakes her get-you fist at Barb. "My maiden name is Romano. And the Romano family takes care of their own." She spits at Barb. "You're a dead lady!"

A cocky Dick struts into the Golden Grill. He springs up on a stool. "Coffee! Make it snappy." Dick feels like things are finally going his way. His Head Pro dream awaits him right around the corner.

"Yes, sir! And a good morning to you!" Susan pours a cup of the wonderful smelling java, and brings it to Dick.

"Listen here low life. Things are going to be changing around here, better start kissing my ass." Dick throws a spoon at Chuck the dishwasher and cackles. "Fucking freak!"

"How many times have I told you to leave him alone?"

"I'm in thick with the Boss. So Miss Nice and Helpful, don't tell me a fucking thing. That kid comes from bad blood. Can't turn him around."

Susan wipes the counter and scowls at Dick. "Back off!"

Dick unleashes his irritating cackle. "What are you going to do? You're practically out the door." He goes to pick his nose. For unconsciously, Dick possesses a filthy habit of fingering his nostrils whenever he feels he's on top of the world.

Susan cringes, slapping his hand. "Not in here!"

Dick halts, pulling his mining finger back, determined to make her pay for stopping him from enjoying a pleasure pick. "Mortimer won't be able to help his little piece on the side."

"I have never been with Howard! Stop making up lies!"

"I think that homely four eyed dwarf's been doing you."

"Howard's a wonderful man. And once again, I have never slept with him."

"Whatever!" Dick picks a rose out of a vase sitting on the lunch counter, and tosses it at Susan. "I say the swelled head still has a thing for you."

"He does not!"

He taps the spoon on the counter. "Then why does the smug jerk hang out here so much?"

"Enjoys the unique foreign tea I carry,"she replies and thinks if he only knew it would blow Dick's narrow little brain. "Why does your mind always gravitate to the gutter?"

Dick snorts and points at Chuck. "Gutter! That's where that trash belongs."

"Chuck is a good kid."

"Hate that kid. A disabled loser who comes from the wrong side of town. Should shoot him. Do the world a favour?"

"Please get out!"

Dick smacks the counter with less force then in the past. Is the wear and tear on those paws catching up to him? "I'm going to be dancing on cloud nine when you and Chuck get canned." He looks around. "Slots will look good in here." He enjoys a lengthy malicious cackle sending chills down Susan's back, and throws another spoon at the Dishwasher.

"Stop that! Please leave."

Dick slurps up half his cup with the nauseating noise echoing through the room. "Also overheard your chat with Joey yesterday right in this very grill." He scratches his head. "Seemed like you two knew each other."

Susan's stomach dips, turns and nose dives. "You are dreaming."

Dick drains the rest of his cup, spilling all over the counter. "There's something more to this. Going to get to the bottom of it."

Susan attempts to show no fear. But inside she's beginning to crumble. When is her complicated past going to leave her alone? She has endeavoured to start over on more than one occasion. Even when she went to college as a mature student, majoring in English. Unfortunately, her youthful mistakes keep coming back to haunt her. She wonders if it will ever end? But her one right move, she'll protect with her life.

Dick points at his spill "Clean this up! What a messy joint!" He glowers at her. "And when I do find out your past, and I will. It'll be one more way for me to humiliate you. Cause I've always hated you!"

"Why?"

"Hate goody two shoes types!" Dick rises up to leave, pointing a coffee-soaked finger at Chuck like it is a gun. "Bang! You're dead!"

"Teach you for messing with the Hammer." A pompous Joey stands on the other side of the jail cell bars, staring at Billy, who sits on a broken old cot in a small smelly jail cell at the Palm Springs Police Department.

Billy wears a bedraggled look from a sleepless night in jail and a massive hangover. He supports the same alcohol drenched clothes he had on last night. He has a black eye, cut on his cheek, and an even fatter lip then the one Sophia inflicted on him. He picks at a disgusting looking breakfast on a tray. Each bite sends his stomach rocketing to the moon.

"Go screw yourself." Billy sets aside the tray.

Joey grunts. "So, gonna be like that."

"I'll beat your trumped up charge."

"Like hell you will!" Joey bangs on the bars. "Gonna tell you how this gonna be."

"Now why would I listen to the dropping pants devil himself?"

"Then you can rot in this hell."

Billy lies down on his cot. "Bail was just covered."

Joey shakes the bars and screams, "Who did it? I'll whack the bum."

"Confidential. See you in court."

Joey throws his hands in the air in frustration. His pants hit an all time low. "So let's just keep busting each others balls."

"You mean the ones you're trying to show the world." Billy enjoys a long belly laugh. "And if your pants go any lower, you'll be getting propositioned by some of the boys who have been in here for a while." A sexy whistle sounds from a neighbouring cell.

"Shit!" An embarrassed Joey peers around to see where that appreciative whistle came from. He hitches up his pants.

"Look Joey, obviously, you want something from me. But I want some people taken care of first. Then maybe..."

Joey lowers his volume, "Okay Hot Shot! Let's stop dancing round and let's make a real fucking deal."

"Signed and sealed!" Susan says as she walks into Joey's office later that day at lunchtime. She throws down a legal contract on the messy desk. She sets a plate down with a sandwich and a cup of coffee. "Next one you pay for."

"What the fuck is this?" Joey tosses the contract back at Susan. He's in no mood for this as his visit to Billy at the Police Department turned out to be a tougher negotiation then he anticipated. But Joey knows he'll fix the chump by nightfall.

"It gives me 100% ownership of the Golden Grill," informs Susan.

Joey waves his hand in disgust. "Beat it!"

Susan slides the unwanted contract back to Joey. "The real owner of the club, Vinnie will be giving you a call to inform you of the transaction."

Joey flings the contract to the floor. "I run this show."

"You run nothing Joseph. You own nothing. Just a flunky. Always have been."

Joey's face flushes. He makes a fist. "Shut up!"

"Your stupidity may cost this club big time. Hopefully Billy can save your bacon this afternoon."

Joey raises his fist. "I'm gonna."

Susan steps back quick as an uncooperative bunny. "Don't you dare threaten me!" She points a determined finger at Joey. "And I'm not running this time. I'm here to stay. The Golden Grill is now mine."

Joey lowers his fist. "No way Uncle Vinnie sold you the Grill."

"He did not sell me the Grill. He gave me the Golden Grill."

"No fucking way!" Joey sweeps everything on his desk to the floor with that Golden Eagle cup smashing into fragments. That's the third club cup taking a beating, putting Barb well ahead. Was a drunken Billy a sucker for taking that bet?

"Vinnie owes me big. And it was time for him to pay." Susan gathers up the contract, and sets it on the desk. "All legal and binding."

"Wanna put one armed bandits in there."

"Not in my place."

"Shit!" Joey starts to pace and rant. "I'll squeeze you out."

"Grow up. There is a clause in the contract, if you ever read it, that specifically outlines the working relationship between Golden Eagle and the Grill." Susan taps the contract. "And your Uncle Vinnie left no room for any of your sleazy tricks. Like the one you're planning to pull on Billy today."

"I'm not gonna."

"Oh please save the lies Joseph. And here is a peace offering gift from me." She pulls a shiny leather belt out of a bag and hands it to him. "Please wear it!"

He sputters and grumbles. But a reluctant Joey accepts the practical gift. Susan carries on, "You may as well face the fact, I am here to stay."

Joey's complexion begins to pale. "Why'd Uncle Vinnie owe you?"

Susan takes a long breath and stares out the window. "Your Uncle Vinnie is the father of my child."

EIGHT

That afternoon on the pristine eighteenth green at Golden Eagle Golf and Tennis Club, Billy shakes as he holds his putter in his hands. He sizes up a putt. Timmy assists him to read the line. Timmy has been Billy's caddy today. He's had a challenge calming down the Golf Pro after his nerve-wracking night in the Slammer. Billy faces a tough twenty-five foot putt with a monster break, and for this putt the shakes have overtaken the former Pro Golfer.

A spiffy dressed gallery surrounds the well-groomed impeccable green. Joey, Rocco, Sophia, Rosa, Susan, Barb and all the staff are there to cheer Billy on. Even Officer Rossini slithers like a badge wearing serpent in the shadows, taking in the important match.

Joey sweats buckets as he waits for the critical putt, sporting his new leather belt with no pant accidents about to occur. "Better nail this one."

Other shouts from the gallery throw off Billy's concentration. He steps away from the ball. Timmy walks over to a trembling Billy and pats him on the back. "Just relax."

Billy mops his forehead with a towel. "Need a drink. And I need a stiff one!"

"You can do it," Timmy encourages. "Drain it and you're champ."

"Miss it, and I'm in a playoff." Billy grips his putter tight. "I'm a playoff choker."

"Focus on only this putt," Timmy says.

"Just give it your best Billy," Susan speaks with her soothing tone.

Rocco loudly sucks on a breath mint and booms out, "Home run!" The nervous crowd laughs.

Sophia hits Rocco in the stomach. "You embarrassing neckless nitwit!"

"Ah Sweet Pea!" Rocco turns beat red, and hangs his monstrous head. Shame filling the giant body, pushing out skunk-like smelling air. Rocco's first place fart echoes over the golf course. A sickening odour smothers the eighteenth green. Birds soar skyward, mice scamper, rabbits race away, and even the flag on the flagstaff wilts and whines.

The timing of the forced fumes break is perfect. A shivering Billy utilizes the chance to collect himself with a short head-clearing walk. For as far as the humans, stomachs lurch, tears flow, nose's revolt, people flee the green with throats coughing and choking. Fortunately for Billy, it takes a few minutes for the gallery to recover and reconvene.

When Billy's back ready to approach the pivotal putt, Rosa chimes in, "You can do it, Billy. I believe in you." He relaxes at hearing that sweet sounding voice. He sucks it up, releases a stoic smile and steps up to the ball one last time.

Billy lets the putt go. The crowd gasps as they think Billy's mis read the line.

Joey screams, "I'll kill you."

"Drunken bum!" Dick adds.

The putt begins to break. Susan, Timmy, Barb and Rosa yell, "IN THE HOLE!" The putt continues to make its huge break. It hangs on the rim of the cup for what seems like an eternity, teeters and totters for another second, dropping with a reverberating plunk. The Golden Eagle staff erupt with crazy celebration. Even Timmy and Maria found themselves locked in a celebratory hug, one step from locking lips, until their embarrassment broke the magic moment. They disengage with both faces shining several shades of shy scarlet.

Rosa reaches Billy first. She smothers the hero in a full bodied embrace, and a long smouldering kiss to the shock of the crowd and of course her father.

Joey's blood veins burst. He begins to shake. There's murder in his eyes. Frantically, he waves Officer Rossini over to him.

One step ahead of her father, Rosa grabs Billy's hand and drags him over to a furious Joey, whispering in his ear, "No need for Officer Rossini anymore. I found a credible witness who saw Dick put the money in Billy's car last night. Oh and beautiful belt Poppa!"

The seething Joey frowns in disgust at his daughter. "None of your affair." He attempts to push Rosa aside.

Rosa waves Officer Rossini away. "All done," she says to him. "All charges are dropped." She turns to her father and tugs on his new belt. "This is definitely my affair." She giggles and hugs her father. "Cause Billy and I are engaged!"

Five minutes later, the elegant eighteenth green still holds numerous excited and three disappointed spectators. The three gloomy types are Sophia's brothers who own the Rancho Mirage Club. The ruthless Romano brothers rage at this loss, wanting some revenge.

The three brothers, who all pack over 250 pounds, are extra large mean and nasty thugs of the worst kind. Intimidatingly, they hover around, making smart-ass cracks in their thick Jersey accent about Rocco's black-eye. The tough guy Rocco shivers and shutters in his bullying brother-in-law's presence.

Sophia relishes in the fear the three generate. She glows in the fact that everyone knows the Romano brothers will viciously protect her. As Barb makes her way through the crowded green, Sophia strides over, hauling her ape-like brothers with her. She creates a huge spectacle as she yells for all to hear, "Barb, I want you to meet my brothers." Sophia delivers a slow and deliberate kiss on both of Barb's cheeks. The kiss of death, and it was blatant for all to see.

Every cell of Barb's body trembles and wants to escape. Somewhere she musters up the strength to stand firm and flash a fake smile. "Pleased to meet you boys."

Timmy unlocks his adoring eyes from Maria for a second, recognizing the obvious threat To Barb. The white knight, or is that green knight, role kicks into gear. He makes his way to Barb's side. "So glad you two gals are getting along now." Timmy looks over at the three brothers and smiles. "Hi guys."

The youngest brother bows to Timmy. "Sensei Raker."

"I see you've met my very good friend Barb." Timmy gives her a hug. "We in the martial arts world have honorary members. And Barb's one of my Society's very special honorary members."

All three Romano brothers turn white with fear. They've all seen Timmy fight, and he is the best of the best. But also, they know of the Society, and that's like playing with a pit full of poisonous snakes. The youngest brother bows to Barb, to the shock of their sister. "It's an honour to meet you Barb."

Joey notices the whipped puppy reaction of the Romano brothers. He forms an entire new respect for the pretty Greenskeeper.

Barb begins to breathe again. She smothers Timmy with a genuine grateful save-my-life smile. Her panicking cells all come down off red alert. For once, she finds herself speechless.

"Yeah, if anything ever happens to Queen Barb." Timmy looks at all three squirming brothers. He shifts his gaze to Sophia, locking his piercing eyes to hers. "Our Society would be very, very upset!"

Sophia holds that penetrating gaze of Timmy's. She desires the imposing attractive man even more with each additional White Knight noble deed. Except, she must destroy alpha-bitch Barb, and put this gorgeous gladiator in his place, in order to control him later. "And my brothers say fuck your Society!"

The oldest Romano brother snarls, "Sis, just shut the fuck up!"

The celebration on the eighteenth green dances on into the Golden Eagle bar. Drinks flow, hugs for Billy on the win, and then hugs for Billy and Rosa on their engagement.

Rocco moves next to Joey and whispers, "Time to whack Billy."

Joey enjoys Rocco's fresh and minty tasting breath. He lets out a depraved chuckle, "Feel an accident about to happen to Beak Face real soon." He puts his arm around Rocco. "Accidents gonna be your number one focus for now."

Rocco drives his fist into his massive palm. "And Wanna fire Timmy today."

"No Rocco, he keeps the greens pretty, but keeps 'em safe too."

"That's my job." Yet Rocco knows that ever since Timmy rough him up and gave him the black eye, he's been acting different.

"Can use a little backup. Saw you pissing your pants when them Romano boys talked tough." Rocco looks down in and shuffles his size 15 feet in shame. "One cazzo at a time, you lost 'em." Joey pounds his brother on the back. "But that Green Boy, never seen those Romano thugs whimper like that." Joey shakes his head in disgust. "And that Sophia, never gonna stop."

"Oh, my priceless gem!"

"More like a cheap impure cut." He flees Rocco's side and says, "Gotta talk some sense into my daughter." Leaving the dim-witted Rocco's mouth hanging open, not quite comprehending his brother's true meaning just yet.

Joey finds Rosa, slipping her off to the side to set her straight. "Just like your Mamma was. Making snap decisions."

Rosa laughs and hugs her Father. "Thanks Papa. What a nice compliment!"

"This here ends pronto!" Joey lowers his voice, "Sending you back to Italy tomorrow."

"No Papa! I'm staying right here with my man."

"He's a drunken bum!"

"My Billy's a wonderful fella, and he saved the club." Rosa gives her Papa a playful jab in the belly. "And I'm marrying him."

"Not gonna! I forbid it!"

"Yes, I will!" Rosa stands up straight and doesn't flinch under her father's intimidating stare. "And you'll welcome him into the family. The way Uncle Vinnie has."

Joey takes a half step back. "What?"

"Uncle Vinnie was so excited. You know how Uncle Vinnie will give me anything I want. He gave his blessing. Of course, we promised to name one of our sons after him, and one after you as well."

Joey wipes his sweating brow with his puff, he pulled from his suit pocket. "Don't want grandkids!"

"You'll love them when they come! And one other thing he gave us." She whispers in his ear, followed by an I-love-you hug.

Joey's bushy eyebrows dart upward in shock. "Oh no!" He wavers and wobbles.

Rosa takes his arm to steady him. "Papa! Why don't we make some announcements now? And whatever deal you made with Billy, you have to keep your word. Or Uncle Vinnie will here about it."

"Ah Rosa!" Joey recognizes the identical determined look in his daughter's eyes that his late wife used to flash in her expressive eyes. That doesn't so much scare him, but the fact Uncle Vinnie's on her side. He lets out a cave-in sigh and nods.

Joey grabs a drink from a passing waitress and drains it. He tosses it aside, making it the first Golden Eagle whiskey glass to take the fall. He inhales a deep breath and attempts to shout out. But his voice fails him, coming out weak, "I, I gotta make announcements."

Someone from the crowd yells out, "Nifty belt! About time!" A loud outbreak of laughter occurs, sending Joey's mug to a bright beat colour. But the good news for Hammer, the members and the staff is he'll never have to hitch up his droopy pants in public again.

Rocco and Dick wave their arms in the air and scream, "Quiet for the Boss!" The crowd ignores them. Billy whistles. The gang quiets down.

Joey clears his throat and gains some strength in his voice, "Introducing our permanent Greenskeeper, Timmy." The bar erupts with Sophia, Susan, Barb and Billy leading the cheering. "And Maria and Henry are back." Another round of decimal shattering cheers.

Joey gets a momentary burst of courage. He attempts to end the announcements. But Rosa wags a better-carry-on finger at her Papa. He rages inside. His nostrils flare with anger, but his shoulders finally slump. He groans in defeat. "Oh, yeah, Billy's back. And real important, them stars staying here." Another huge spirited ovation.

Rosa smothers Billy in a massive kiss and hug. "My hunky hero!" Joey's blood vessels boil with Rosa's public affection towards Billy. When she's done malling Billy, she turns and glares at her father, wagging her keep-talking finger again. She mouths the words, "Not finished."

Joey fumes as he paces, muttering under his breath, "To show what a great guy I am. Billy's charges gonna be dropped." More thunderous clapping and whooping from the packed room.

Dick shouts out, "What about the Head Pro?"

Joey places his hand on his forehead like a sharp pain's about to arrive. "Oh, yeah! Think it be pretty obvious who I wanna name as Head Pro."

"You tell 'em Boss," encourages Dick. His finger set to gravitate to his nose, for this announcement will put him over the top.

Rosa holds up two fingers. Joey slams his fist into a nearby chair. "But, but, new Head Pro's gonna be my soon to be son-in-law, Billy Parks." He kicks that poor nearby chair. "And when they get hitched, and only when hitched, Rosa and Billy gonna get a 2% ownership in this joint as a wedding gift from the family." He looks down and whispers, "And an extra percent for every bambino they pop out."

Loud cheers ring out from the room. Rosa gives Billy a kiss and hug. Billy wears shock. Barb wears shock. Dick faints.

The next morning Barb and Billy sit across from Susan enjoying a cup of the Golden Grill's flavourful coffee.

Billy takes a sip. "Ah! So good! Glad to see the standards are every bit as high with the new owner of the grill. Congratulations Susan!"

"For sure! Congrats!" Barb holds up her cup and all three friends clink cups in a toast.

"Thank you two! I am so excited about the future."

Barb turns to Billy with a curious look on her face. "Now you went from bum to Head Pro in one day. What happened with Rosa?"

Billy shrugs a newly engaged shoulder. "She asked, I said yes!"

"Wow!" Barb pokes Billy. "Talk about cutting out all the hot steamy courtship coitus."

Susan sends a playful wink Billy's way. "Still plenty of engagement fun to be had. If the family lets you near her."

"That same family that'll ensure Italy's the last country Billy ever travels," Barb teases.

Billy beams from ear to ear. "Best decision I ever made." He thinks for a moment as a scowl begins to form on his face. "Although as I walked by the minty breath Rocco this morning, he delivered the universal throat slitting sign."

Susan frowns. "Be careful"

Billy lets out an anxious chuckle. "Guess that gesture means, welcome to the family."

"You know," Susan says, "for some reason I think Rosa will be good for you."

Barb flushes and fidgets. "We'll see."

"And you saved the club," states Susan. "And you deserve to be Head Pro."

Barb slaps the counter. "Now that I'll agree with."

Billy lets out another nervous chuckle. "Dick sure took it well. Only said one word to me last night when he came to."

"What was it," Susan asks?

"Pointed his finger at me and said, bang!" Billy grimaces. "I'm a marked man."

Barb shutters. "And I'm a marked lady! Thank goodness for Timmy. Never thought golf was such a violent game."

"Barb, how about the tour?" Susan inquires.

"The pig's thinking it over." Barb sheds a tear. "Wants more kinky favours even after last night's so-called close-the-deal session."

"Oh Honey!" Susan takes Barb's hand. "He is playing you."

More tears form in Barb's eyes. "You bet."

"Cheer up!" Billy takes Barb's other hand. "I got a more realistic idea on how we can get your tour dream."

Timmy bursts into the Golden Grill in a panic. "Chuck the dishwasher's dead!"

Susan screams, "No! No! No!" Barb moves to Susan's side giving a consoling hug to the hysterical grill owner.

Timmy slows down his breathing and whispers to Billy, "Found him in the practice sand trap."

Billy stands up, taking Timmy by the arm, pulling him off to the side. "How, how was he?"

Timmy wipes his brow. "Shot in the head with a bag of drugs stuffed in his mouth."

PART II - HEAD OF THE CLUB

ONE

"I can't believe I'll be married in two months," Billy Parks mutters to himself as he hurries back to the Pro Shop. He completed another private golf lesson with an uncoordinated Hollywood celebrity, who insisted his clubs were faulty, and his swing was perfect, just like his acting.

Billy reflects on what a crazy few days have unfolded since the Corsini family purchased the struggling club. The lives of everyone at Golden Eagle have been turned upside down. This Mob family from Vegas are about as unconventional as it gets.

When the Corsini's first paraded in to Golden Eagle, three Golf Pros were hoping to manoeuvre and manipulate the Corsini family in their own unique manner. Billy chuckles as he thinks about what a shock they all received. Dick, Barb and himself were sent on a bone-rattling roller coaster ride, with its head-spinning highs and low-down lows.

"Thanks for getting my job back," Henry says as Billy walks by the maintenance guru who works on a lawnmower. "And congratulations on the engagement."

"Thanks Henry!" A huge high for Billy is that he has become engaged to the wonderful Rosa Corsini.

Henry goes to say something else. But he stops himself, hanging his head, returning to his task.

Billy's eyes then spy Joey and Rocco issuing him the finger at the same time, while they admire their brand new Cadillac parked out front of the Golden Eagle Clubhouse. They gave the noisy Buick to Sophia, purchasing the new snazzy wheels with a down payment courtesy of cash swiped from the Golden Eagle safe, and without the approval of Uncle Vinnie.

Billy cringes at the sight of the scowling brothers. He wipes his suddenly perspiring brow. Joey would love to whack his soon to be son-in-law. And if the dimwitted Rocco ever found out Billy had a one night raunchy session with his wife, Sophia, then Billy's a dead man. So with Joey, Rocco, Sophia and his fiancé Rosa all working closely together at the club, Billy figures he better learn to tap-dance, and learn real quick.

Billy looks away from the bash brothers and races toward the Pro Shop. He notices Barb limping about on the practice green, giving a member a lesson on the finer points of putting. She wears a frustrated frown on her face. Billy sends a cheerful wave to her. She returns a half hearted, listless wave. Lately, her smile seems to have hibernated.

She's got herself into a pickle with Joey. Hammer promised her sponsorship on the Ladies Pro Golf Tour. After numerous steamy sex sessions, the pig will not fulfill his end of the bargain. And Barb delivered the mind-blowing ultra-kinky sex the lascivious Joey desired. Including last night's carpet-burning wrestling match, which has her walking like a wounded duck.

Although, the most traumatic event to occur since the Corsini arrival was the murder of Chuck the dishwasher. Who did it? Susan Clark took the death hard. Billy attended the funeral yesterday. His heart bled for the grieving Susan. It was as if Chuck was her son. Was he?

Finally, Dick took the announcement of Billy's Head Pro appointment like a man who had been stabbed in the back. But was Dick the one actually doing the stabbing? And he's really just pissed cause the knife slipped out of his slimy hand. He pined, pouted and has not shown up for work since. The devastated Dick claims he isn't showing up until he's treated with more respect. So Billy called the brooding Dick, asking him to come in and clear the air.

Twenty minutes later Billy re-grips a club for one of the upper-crust members when Dick creeps and crawls into the back room of the Pro Shop. He's not dressed in his usual flamboyant and flashy colourful golf attire. He wears scruffy blue jeans, a torn tattered teeshirt, and his hair looks like an abandoned rats nest. Dick glares at Billy, nostrils flaring.

Billy gazes upward. "Oh Dick, thank you for coming in." Upon seeing Dick's disheveled appearance Billy realizes how difficult this situation must be for him. For Dick's love is his eye-catching fashion choices. By those threads, he's hit rock bottom. Billy sets down his work, moving to shake Dick's hand. A sulking Dick refuses, stepping back as if Billy carries the plague.

"Come on Dick. You and I've been through a lot. We can work this out."

Dick flips Billy the finger. The disgruntled Mr. Short frowns and thinks how this alcoholic womanizer stole his dream. He'll do anything to destroy Billy. "I've nothing to say to you."

"Well, that's a start."

The unshaven Dick turns to leave. Billy decides to try another tact. "Do you want a good referral?"

Dick halts. He clinches both fists.

Billy lays the cards on the table. "Look if you don't want to talk. If you don't want to work it out, then its time for you to move on."

"I, I don't want to go."

"Then what do you want?"

Dick turns back, strides up to Billy, shaking his envious fist in the Head Pro's face. "I want your job!"

"May have it one day. Could be in years, could be tomorrow, for one never knows."

"Never know." Dick plans on using every ounce of his energy to annihilate Billy.

"I'll not give the job up. But Dick, I'm willing to throw you an olive branch."

"What?"

"Assistant Head Pro."

Dick cheers inside. For he's interested. Titles mean everything to him, and at least this will give him more than he expected. But, he'll make Billy beg. "Just a stupid title. I don't care. I'm going to talk to Joey."

"Okay. I tried." Billy's turn to play the game. "Go do your devil-dance with Joey. You're done."

"Wait! Wait Billy!"

"Dick, cut the crap. You either want to be a part of this thing as Assistant Head Pro, or good-bye? Think fast cause I have a host of excellent candidates I'm ready to call."

A defiant Dick lifts his chin. "I demand I get more money."

"If you do the job effectively, there'll be more money. But, you have to work."

Dick defends himself, "Ah, well, I work." He worries now if he actually has to work, when will he find time to scheme and orchestrate Billy's demise?

"Bullshit! If you stay, you work!"

Dick crosses his fingers behind his back. "I, I, I'll work."

"Hope so! I'll bring in a Junior Golf Pro to help with the work load, and new programs I want to implement." Billy points a serious finger at Dick. "I want you to be a positive influence. If you can't, then get lost!"

Dick stumbles back with nervous eyes twitching. "Jeepers!" He's never seen this side of Billy. Rosa's having an impact on the man. "If your gonna put it like that." Dick gathers himself, holding his head high. "I'll accept your offer. But you're a prick!"

Right then Barb, the Barracuda, hobbles into the room. "Look who came crawling back. The shortest putter in the West." Billy can see in Barb's eyes, she's ready to rip somebody, and Dick's her prime target.

"Billy begged me to come back," Dick says with an arrogant tilt of his head. "Place was falling apart without me."

"You crack me up little man." Barb slaps Dick on the ass. "Hope these rags aren't your new fashion statement?"

Dick coughs. "Been a bit under the weather!"

She rubs his whiskers. "Lose your shaver?"

Dick flexes his muscles. "Makes me look rough and ready."

"For what?" Barb pulls Dick's nose. "Maybe Ladies Prison!"

Billy attempts to step in before these two strangle each other. "Dick's just accepted the position of Assistant Head Pro!"

Barb sneers. "But he's useless!"

Dick puffs up his chest which is another of his goto moves. He pushes his chin even higher. "I'm a highly skilled professional golfer!"

"More like a sleazy professional gopher." She pokes Dick in that puffed up chest. "Joey's little fetch it boy."

Dick squares his shoulders. "The Hammer values my perspective."

She pulls Dick's messy hair. "Just a creepy snitch and fink."

"Okay you two,that's enough!" Billy pats Dick on the back. "Dick will do a fine job. Cause he knows what's at stake."

Dick grunts and leaves in a huff.

Miss Bond slaps Billy on the bicep. "You're crazy!"

"We'll see."

"Billy, that lazy little jerk will be the end of you!"

"I'll give him one chance. Now I want to talk about your future."

"Don't make me the Assistant to the Assistant Head Pro."

"How did you know Barb?"

"You're kidding!"

"Of course I'm kidding. Here's what I'm really offering. On a trial basis I've managed to get Sammy to sponsor you for a Ladies Qualifying Tournament to get your feet wet."

Barb's eyes widen in surprise. "Oh My God! When?"

"Called a friend. Texas in one week! And you'll need to practice. I can make some time to work with you."

"Forget it Billy! My game's sharp."

"Are you sure?"

The excited Golf Pro claps her hands. "I'll kick ass!"

"Okay. All expenses paid. 75% of prize money's yours."

"Oh thank you!" Barb hugs Billy at the exact same moment as Rosa enters the room.

Two days later a woeful Susan Clark works behind the counter of the Golden Grill. She supports red eyes. The tears haven't stopped since her dishwasher Chuck was murdered right at the club. A full of himself Joey Corsini parades into her place and plants himself on a stool. A long silence occurs as the two square off.

Susan's stomach spins as the Mob man stares and snarls at her. She grits her teeth, forcing herself to calm down as she wants his reaction to a question, and wants it bad. For Joey and his brother Rocco are her number one suspects. "So did you knock off Chuck?"

Joey grins. "Real, real sad how the kid met with that unfortunate accident."

"Go to hell!"

"Ay, wait a minute." Joey holds up his hand. "No need for that there kinda talk. Thought you runs a classier joint than that?"

"I am going to continue to inquire in certain circles. And if I..."

Joey smacks the counter, rattling everything on it. But no Golden Eagle cup bit the dust. "I told you. The kid was dealing dope right out of your Grill."

"He cleaned up his act."

"You stupid broad!" Joey leaps to his feet. He throws a glass saltshaker at the wall. At least he spared the specially ordered cups. "Could a been any one of fifty lowlifes who snuffed out the kid?"

Susan wags a warning finger at Joey. "But if I find out you or Rocco were the lowlifes."

Joey roars with laughter. He hammers that abused counter numerous times like a Mob maniac. "You got nothing. Got your last favour from Uncle Vinnie with this here grill."

"I will find a way Joseph."

Joey scratches himself in the crotch. "Leave it to our upstanding Officer Rossini to catch the kid's killer."

She rolls her eyes. "He's your flunky."

"A cop that's gonna go far in this town." Hammer continues to pleasure himself while flashing a sardonic look. "Poor Susan! A dame that helps everyone else. But now, all alone."

Susan peeks down at Joey, rubbing his privates and blushes. "Such a pig! Certainly not going to help you scratch that itch."

Joey shuffles, pulling his fidgeting hands away from his crotch.

"Hmm. So now that you have a belt holding up your pants, your hands are free to find other amusing activities?"

Joey sputters and swears. But he knows ever since Susan bought him the belt, he doesn't have to constantly hitch up his pants. He's been lost with what to do with his uncontrollable fingers.

Susan carries on, "Now as far as being totally on my own. Not quite!" She's never played this card. It may be time to call in a favour from the good guys. But she's not letting Joey know that. The Golden Grill owner will steer him in another direction.

"What do you mean by not quite?"

"Joseph, do you know who Chuck's biological father is?"

He scratches his head which is a much less embarrassing spot to let those fingers play. "Ah, what?"

Susan sighs, rolling her eyes again. "It means the father who had sex to create the child."

"Oh!"

"And it is someone who has a lot of money, power and connections."

"So Susan, who already?"

"Howard Mortimer."

Joey's face takes on a confused look. "What? But, thought the kid come from the wrong side of them tracks?"

"His mother was. But Howard found out recently that Chuck was his child. He asked me to give Chuck a job to get him back on his feet."

"Nothing to do with me." Joey waves his hands in disgust. "Movie-making Mortimer's a powder puff anyway."

Susan glowers at Hammer. "Don't underestimate Howard. He wants revenge for the murder of his only child. And all his considerable resources are directly aimed at Joseph Corsini."

TWO

Billy and the sweet innocent Rosa Corsini sit in the office of the Priest running the Palm Springs Catholic Church. The first of a series of marriage preparation sessions the couple in love must endure. Billy appears about as interested as a vegetarian at a BBQ cook off. While the one time nun-want-to-be Rosa perches spellbound, hanging on the Priest's every word.

"Billy, do you drink excessively?" Father Murphy inquires.

"But Billy will stop!" Rosa answers for her future husband.

Billy clears his throat. "I will curtail my drinking."

"Oh my Son," Father Murphy says with a condescending tone. "You must refrain from partaking of any spirits again, if this marriage can work in the eyes of God. And in the eyes of the Catholic Church!"

Sweat commences to pour from Billy. "But, but Catholics drink, don't they?"

"Billy don't question Father," she scolds. "He sits next to God!"

"That's fine my dear, this once." The pompous Priest holds his head high. "In answer to your question, yes my Son, we partake of spirits in moderation." The Priest pats Billy on the arm in a patronizing manner. "However, with your history of excessive alcohol consumption! I'm afraid the only way I can proceed with the ceremony is if you promise to abstain from drinking any alcohol before and after the wedding."

Billy tightens his grip on his chair. "Hmm."

The devoted Catholic girl, who is eager to please the Priest, grasps Billy's white-knuckled hand. "Oh Father! My Billy will stop drinking now."

Billy coughs and gasps. "I, I'll try. But..."

"And there will be only a peck on the cheek before the wedding." The preaching Priest wags his holy finger. "If there is any passionate kissing, heavy petting, erotic shenanigans or pre-marital sex," Father Murphy uses his deep toned authoritarian voice. "Then no wedding!"

Billy goes cold below the belt.

Late that night Joey, Rocco and Dick wear somber looks. They huddle in Joey's spacious office at Golden Eagle. All hold those fancy Golden Eagle whiskey glasses, filled to the brim. Amazing how alcohol in the system improves their criminal planning process. They feel things have not gone their way. But with a couple of dirty lowdown tricks beginning to take root, they hope to triumphantly scheme and slime their way forward.

"Billy can't stop drinking," Dick declares.

"He's gotta!" Joey drains his glass. "Or no getting hitched."

"Good thinking Boss," praises Dick. "Having a chat with that wine guzzling Father Murphy."

Joey lights up a cigar. "Giving that under the table donation helped the Padre to come down hard on Billy."

"And promising an added cash bonus to his personal collection plate," Dick adds, "if the marriage never happens, sure helps the effort."

"Even throw in a case of good Italian wine if the drunk comes through." Joey guffaws. "But gotta have more than a pulpit-pounding Priest."

Rocco slams his fist down on the arm of the chair. "Been cracking my knuckles at Billy. Can't wait to do more."

"Get your chance," assures Joey.

Rocco inhales a stiff shot of his whiskey. "So what else?"

Joey turns to Dick. "Did you get that there stuff?"

Dick takes a tentative sip of the potent liquor. He coughs, sputters and whispers, "You, you bet Boss."

"Excellent!" Joey enjoys a long drag. "Dick my boy, sink this here wedding. You gonna be Head Pro."

Dick continues to cough with tears rolling down his cheek. "I, I am on it, Boss."

Hammer thumps his desk. "So am I! Heat gonna keep rising on Billy." Joey floods the room with an evil chortle.

Dick finishes his coughing spirt. He hops out of his chair, pacing the room. "Billy boy will be well done by the time we're finished with the chump."

Rocco booms out, "Billy's not the only chump to cook. Wanna boil his pretty pal."

"For sure!" Dick encourages Rocco. For in Dick's mind, if anyone close to Billy is hurt — then Billy is hurt. And that's job one in the little man's mind.

Joey kicks his full garbage can, sending trash in every direction. "Rocco, leave Timmy alone."

"Ah, come on Joey!" Rocco punches the air, and lets out a small fart. "Just some fun! Scare da bum a little."

"No!" Joey shakes his head. "Timmy's reputation as a world champ pyjama fighter puts yous brother-in-laws in their place. Cause you sure can't handle 'em."

"I, I can Joey!"

"Use to," Joey says. "Not no more! Gotta have more of a threat than just your gas."

Joey and Dick enjoy a hardy laugh at the Head of Security. Rocco blushes and hangs his head.

Joey flexes his muscles. "Gotta keep them pit bulls on a leash. If we's gonna run the drug trade in the Coachella Valley." Hammer fires his whiskey glass at the wall. It rebounds and bonks Rocco squarely on the head, crashing to the floor, making that the second Golden Eagle whiskey glass to go under. "So leave Timmy alone."

Big Rocco carries on as if nothing happened. Is that mammoth skull truly constructed out of cement? "But, Sophia said..."

"Rocco!" Hammer strikes his desk twice. "Don't give a fuck what Sophia said. I say no for now."

Rocco hits the arm of the chair again with a pained crack sounding from the injured piece of furniture. "Damn! But Joey."

"Easy on the furniture Rocco!"

A light goes on in Rocco's mind. "But, yous just hit..."

"Yeah, yeah, but you destroys everything within six feet of your ugly mug."

The giant lets out a disappointed sigh. "But..."

Joey rises to his feet, puffing on his cigar. He puts one arm in the air as if he's about to make a monumental announcement. "Look boys. Golf chumps like Billy and Timmy are smalltime nowheres." He thumps his chest twice. "Time to fry a big fish."

Sophia Corsini wants to fry a sizeable fish of her own. She trolls after a particular blonde blue-eyed Barracuda. She struts into the Pro Shop with cigarette in hand and commands, "Rosa, beat it! Need to talk to the bitch."

Barb and Rosa look up in shock. No one in the place as the two were working late, putting together the foursomes for tomorrow's club tournament.

Rosa mumbles, "But..."

"How fucking stupid are you Rosa?" Sophia screams. "Get the fuck out!"

"Hmm." Rosa glances at Barb.

Barb nods. "Go ahead. This showdown's been coming."

Rosa exits with concern plastered all over her face. The Head of Entertainment at Golden Eagle strides towards Barb. Sophia gives her gum a rough ride as she points her lit cigarette at Miss Bond like a weapon. Barb raises her hand, palm out to stop the hot tempered redhead. "That's close enough."

"Fuck you!" The smouldering Sophia continues to advance with cigarette ready to singe and sizzle some of Barb's pretty skin.

The Golf Pro stands. She snatches up a nine iron. "Time to quit."

Sophia stops dead in her tracks. "You slut!"

Barb chuckles. "Both of us could wear that hat. But doesn't it bother you that we gals get tainted one way? Whereas, Joey and Billy act much the same, and they get pats on the back?"

"That's the only time we'll agree Barracuda. But nothing's going to change in this world as long as those pigs run the show."

"Got that right Sister!"

"Fuck that sister shit!" Sophia takes another aggressive step toward Barb. "I've a score to settle with you."

"What are you pissed about now?"

Sophia pushes over a display rack of golf attire. "Hear you're getting sponsored?"

"On a trial basis!"

"Did you screwed Joey?" Sophia asks as she waves her cigarette in irritation. "And then the bastard came through."

"So we're clear. I screwed Joey. But he didn't come through. Billy lined up the sponsor."

"That means you're leaving the Club?"

"Oh, no Sophia! One of my conditions is that I stay a proud employee of Golden Eagle."

"But I want you out!"

Barb sighs in exasperation. "What's this really all about?"

Sophia throws that lit cigarette on the floor. She grabs a driver out of a golf bag. "Stay away from Joey!"

"Oh, so that's it. You're into doing brothers!"

Sophia chews her gum at a frantic pace immediately before the violence. She takes a wild swing at Barb with the club. The athletic Golf Pro steps out of harms way. Sophia attempts a second strike. Barb gets her nine iron up to block the driver.

"Timmy taught me that one."

A panting Sophia yells, "I'll kill you!" She swings for the third time. She misses Barb, breaking a Pro Shop window.

"Look what you did," screeches Sophia.

"Good shot. You really are crazy!" Barb scurries over and steps on the lit cigarette, putting it out, keeping her distance from the head case.

The crazed Sophia glowers at Barb for a long moment. "You don't understand who you're fucking with."

"Tell me, Jersey Queen." Barb sits down, keeping the nine iron handy.

Sophia points the driver at Barb. "I'm the person who will destroy you."

"So you've indicated."

"And Timmy can't protect you forever."

"Sure hope he can, Hot Legs. Wasn't that your Stripper handle?"

The pissed off former peeler gives that malicious kill-you look. She winds up with the driver for one last swing. She nails a shot right into the centre of a glass counter. Amazing drive, right down the Pro Shop fairway. Sophia cries out, "And he sure as hell can't protect your family in Oakland!"

Two nights later Barb's protector Timmy works into the wee hours of the night at the golf course. The Greenskeeper reseeded a troublesome green. He hopes this time he got it just right. Timmy's a perfectionist. He takes pride in the lavish Golden Eagle greens he produces. His hands are full as he makes his way back to the maintenance shed in the pitch dark. For some reason the lights around the shed aren't functioning.

Multiple objects rain down on Timmy, knocking him out cold as he crumbles to the ground. A number of chuckles sound out from the culprits with degrees from the University of Cowardliness, as an additional series of blows rain down.

Billy works inside, hears the bone crunching sounds and yells out the window. "Timmy! Are you okay?"

Final thunderous body blows resonate over the course, followed by rapid footsteps, car door slams and tire squeals as a vehicle flees the parking lot.

Billy hurries outside, only to find a bloody, broken, battered and sliced Timmy sprawled on the ground.

Two hours later a grave-faced Billy paces in the waiting room of the Palm Springs Hospital. Timmy lies in critical condition. Doctors have given Billy little info, but a lot of concerned frowns. Billy gets the shakes. He craves a drink. He wants a stiff shot so bad. He called Maria Rodriguez, who worships Timmy. He hopes she arrives here soon. Billy needs the support. And the Greenskeeper will really need it — if he makes it.

Ten minutes later a panicking Maria runs into the waiting room. "Billy, how bad?"

He gives her a comforting embrace. "Not going to lie. Timmy was beaten bad."

Maria commences to shed tears. "Will he..."

"Don't know. I rode in the ambulance with him. He never moved a muscle, out cold."

"Oh God! If Timmy..." Maria hugs herself.

"Let's stay positive."

"Go home Billy. I'll wait here."

"Call me anytime. I'll be back in the morning." A distraught Billy decides he is heading for a drink after this. He can't do it without his fix. "Just to prepare you. His face, they were scum, who also used a knife. Went after his greatest asset."

The next morning Rosa arrives at the Pro Shop extremely early, even the birds are not up chirping and singing. When she peeks into the back room, Billy sprawls in a chair, sleeping sound as a well-lubricated rock. A half full bottle of Jameson Irish Whiskey, and a half full glass of the booze sits on the table in front of him.

Rosa picks up the bottle and bangs it multiple times on the trembling table. What is this?

A dozy Billy tries to clear the cobwebs. "What? What?" His whiskey breath verifies his guilt.

"You've been drinking. You promised you'd change."

"But..."

"No buts." She tugs Billy's ear. "The wonderful Father Murphy will be furious when I tell him."

He holds his hand to his head. "Please Rosa."

"Idiot!" Rosa puts her hands on her hips. "Billy Parks! You're a loser! Father Murphy's right!"

"I can explain."

"No excuses." Rosa slaps him on the shoulder, storming toward the door, looking back and yells, "The wedding's off!"

THREE

A gum chewing Sophia slips into a booth across from Dick. The two conniving characters' converge in a dimly lit smokey dive bar which should have been condemned years ago. Beers sit on the table. Buddy Holly plays on the jukebox. The cockroaches dirty dance in the corner.

Sophia whips out a pack of smokes. She fires up, holds her nose in the air and taps her foot, waiting for Dick to speak. Knowing her luscious long legs are her best asset, Sophia, or is that Hot Legs, positions those inviting limbs in such a way that as many men as possible will drink them in.

Dick peers about to ensure no one recognizes them. "Thanks for coming Sophia."

"Okay Short Stuff. Why the offsite meeting? And why in this shit hole?"

Except, the Sophia's snubbing of the dive bar doesn't fit. For the former stripper appears right at home. And when the bartenders yell out to her utilizing her first name, it is apparent she slummed here many times in the past. In fact, the way the bartenders wink and whistle at Sophia, they most likely have been slipping her something harder than alcohol.

"You and I have something in common," says Dick. "Thought it might be worthwhile us sharing plans."

Sophia blows smoke in Dick's face. "What kinda plans?"

Dick coughs and chokes. "You know."

She leans over and pinches the Assistant Head Pro on the cheek. "Look Dicky! I only share plans with men I sleep with."

"Ah, well, umm."

"Relax." Sophia guzzles her beer. She removes the gum from her mouth. She sticks the dirty germ-laden wad under the table. She slides her hands over to Dick's crotch, and begins undoing his zipper. Hope there's no gum left on those frisky fingers. "Oh poor Dick! It is true what they say."

In spite of all Sophia's brashness, she carries a soft spot for men that have challenges in the size department. She sees herself as a sort of Sister Teresa for those suffering dick-disadvantaged fellas. Maybe she sees that tiny task as being a part of her Head of Entertainment role with Golden Eagle.

The squeamish Assistant Head Pro fidgets and fusses. "Sure cold in here!"

"Rocco's got about as much of a weapon as you. I'm still able to fire it off once in a while."

"But, but Rocco would kill me."

"Let's blow this joint Mr. Short. So I can blow you."

Dick commences to cough again. "But..."

"You know small fry, I'm finding you're feeble attempt at a beard, oddly arousing."

Dick sits up straight, stroking his whiskers.

"But that's just stupid!" Sophia slumps her shoulders. "I'm just getting desperate."

Dick shrinks in his chair. He thinks how this lady doesn't turn his crank. But he's not telling this crazy psycho that. Although, his lack of response below the belt lets sex-wise Sophia know all she needs to know.

"Dick, do you like girls? Cause if you don't — that just gets me hotter!"

"I, I like girls."

The shameless Sophia continues to work his lifeless member. She lets out a seductive chuckle. "It you're a good little boy, maybe a spanking will be in the cards."

"Seriously!" Dick perks up down under.

"Maybe a hard paddling!" Sophia licks her lips like a cat anticipating forbidden milk. "I'm sure you've got the equipment back at your place."

Dick realizes she has read him like a cheap erotic novel. He flushes and his blood pressure begins to skyrocket. He now responds to Sophia's expert massage treatment.

"Ooh Dick. There's hope for us yet."

He slaps the table in an attempt to gain some control. "Look! I hate Barb."

At the mention of Barb's name, Sophia gives the tiny stick shift a savage yank.

"Ouch!" He enjoys being driven this way, getting more revved up. "Yes, yes, want her taken care of."

"Wow! Dick the prick. You get me worked up when you talk girlie-tough. But that Barb plan's already launched."

"Oh, oh my." Dick squirms. " You're good." He begins to sweat sex excitement. "Really, really good!"

She grinds Dick's gears even more, bringing him to a feverish pitch. "Oh Mommy!" Dick shouts, convulses and explodes.

Sophia sniggers. "Oh a quick Dick!"

He looks down in embarrassment. "Well, it's just..."

"Hey, you run further than my Rocco." She leans over and kisses Dick on the head. "The pain in the ass Miss Bond's being dealt with. But, time to do some big game hunting."

One devout Catholic girl, who would never go big game hunting. Except for this morning, when Rosa caught her fiancé drinking, she wanted to bag a boozing Billy. But by late in the day the traumatic incident takes its toll. A sad and spiritless Rosa enters the Golden Grill. Unenthusiastically, she plants herself in a chair at a corner table.

Susan walks over and places a comforting hand on the wistful girl. "Are you okay?"

The crestfallen Rosa shakes her head, eyes moisten with tears. She buries her head in her hands.

"Okay Rosa. What happened?" Susan joins her at the table.

"Well," Rosa says in a small voice, "this morning I found Billy had been drinking." Susan hands her a tissue. Rosa wipes away tears and sputters out the words between sniffles, "I went crazy. Called off the wedding. Told Papa. Of course he's all excited. But..."

"But you found out that Billy had been with Timmy at the hospital?"

Rosa nods.

"And now you're having second thoughts?"

The distraught girl nods again.

"Look Rosa. Billy does want to get a handle on his boozing. But you may have to be patient; not too patient. But Timmy and him are close. When I went to the hospital, and talked to the doctors."

"What did they say?"

The Golden Grill owner wipes a tear from her eye. "Timmy most likely won't make it."

Late that evening Billy works alone in the closed up Pro Shop when Rosa walks in. She puts a bottle of whiskey on the counter. "Let's have a drink."

Billy stares in shock. "Ah Rosa. I, I'm okay."

Rosa reaches for his hand across the counter. "I apologize for overreacting. I didn't have all the facts."

"No! No! You're right. I turned to alcohol in a tough time."

She winks, toys with a lock of her hair and asks, "Can we start today over again?"

"Works for me." He passes the bottle back to Rosa. "I'm sorry for drinking. I'll not do that again."

She saunters around the counter and lays a juicy kiss on Billy. A lengthy scintillating sensual kiss. The kind that makes Billy's head spin — both heads spin. "We're all alone Billy."

"Yes, yes, we are."

"I hear there are other ways to handle stress then alcohol." Rosa traces her exploring finger over his chest. "Can you teach me?"

"You need no lessons on the kissing side. Wow! Where did you learn that?"

Rosa runs her suggestive hands through his hair and utilizes a husky voice, "Well Billy. We learn more than just the Bible at Catholic Girls school."

"I always thought..."

"Oh no." Rosa rubs his rock hard biceps, thrilling in the feeling of his masculine muscles. It motivates her to advance to another seduction step. She presses her sizeable chest up against him. "Many stimulating games played when the lights went out."

"Really!"

"But the ultimate game is the one I want you to teach me." Rosa touches his crotch with tentative fingers and giggles. "I want to rip your clothes off!" She commences to apply additional pressure with her adept fingers.

Billy wonders what truly went on at those Catholic schools? "Oh, Rosa! You're full of surprises."

"Much more to come!" She lays a fervent kiss on her man, darting her scorching tongue in and out of his mouth. "Billy, I'm getting so, so hot. Please..."

"But Father Murphy?"

"Father Who?" She then begs in her intoxicating Italian accent. "Please, please Billy, make me a woman?"

That accent drives the Head Pro wild. He swallows hard. He thinks about something unpleasant to cool down the shaft, trying to gain some control. He attempts to show reason. "But, but we're in a Pro Shop."

She smothers Billy with her curvaceous and over-heated body while still managing to lightly fondle his private area. "No one around, but you and me!"

"No, we can't."

"Yes, we can." Rosa's crotch caress intensifies, stiffening and straightening Billy's sturdy shaft. "Ooh Billy!" She sniggers with her understanding. "So it's true, what the girls at school said about a man's nose." Her fingers grasp for the zipper. "We have to."

Billy sucks in a breath, feeling like his willpower's abandoning him. "Not in here."

"In the back room! I put a couple of blankets in there to make it more comfortable." Rosa eases back in an alluring manner. She licks her large red lips. One at a time, she unbuttons her blouse, letting Billy's eyes drink in her voluptuous package.

"Oh boy! You're making a strong case."

Rosa begins to puff and pant. Her passion shoots into the feverish zone. She pleas with her fiancé, "Oh Billy, please, please make love to me!"

"But Rosa!"

She puckers her luscious lips and gives that little girl pout. "Don't you want me?"

"Oh, Honey! I want you! But..."

She lets out an agonizing moan. With provocative moves, she loses her blouse. "I'm burning up!" She slips off her bountiful bra. The erotic way Rosa sheds her clothes, clearly the girls at Catholic school practiced the striptease when the Nuns weren't around. Or were they? Rosa carries on with her seduction task, arching her back, accentuating her exquisite breasts, and red-hot erect nipples. "Does this seal the deal?"

"Oh my God!"

"Touch them! Suck them!" Rosa demands in a sexy throaty manner, "And from now on, they're all yours."

Billy commences to gently massage the massive mouth-watering mountains being served up. His shaft is at the point of no return. "Don't know if I'll ever get enough of these." He leans down, kisses each bursting breast with gentle admiration and stimulation. His talented tongue teases those protruding poke-your-eye-out nips.

"Ooh, ooh Billy." She groans with pleasure, then grasps his hair with an urgent vigour. "More Billy! More!"

Billy lifts his head and smirks. "You're a wild cat." He stares deep into her expressive enter-me eyes. His lust meter shoots through the roof. He wants to devour this savoury sweet. Except, he must be absolutely positive she's ready for the de-flowering. "Are you sure?"

"Si! Make my virgin voyage memorable." Rosa tempts Billy with a sultry wiggle of her heaven-sent hips, letting out a take-me chuckle. She grasps Billy's hand. She squeezes it. "Lead the way. I'm all yours."

He picks up Rosa, carrying her to the back room as if she is a precious jewel. Now her lesson in the big game starts, and Billy's lesson in loving a mega hot-blooded passionate lady kicks into high gear.

Since lessons are all the rage at Golden Eagle — can someone give some lessons on manners to these three crass characters? Joey, Rocco and Dick sit in the Golden Eagle Bar. They slurp their drinks at a corner table. Maria sets down another round. A wolfish Joey springs to paw her on the ass. The nimble Maria moves like the wind, escaping the reach of the lecherous loser.

"Come on honey! Little feel for the Boss." Joey groans as he rubs his groin.

Dick chortles. "No Timmy round to protect you."

"When Pretty Boy gonna wake up?" Rocco inquires as he passes massive gas, resulting in moans and groans from Joey and Dick. It causes them to slide their chairs away from the table. As well, Maria sprays air freshener in the area. Clearly, the staff are well prepared for these reoccurring Rocco rips.

Thankfully, he has cured his repulsive garlic breath by sucking on endless amounts of breath mints. A tip Timmy gave the hulking muscleman. Except, his ass still serves up room-fumigating fireball flatulence.

"Who cares if Green Boy lives," shouts Dick as he begins picking his nose. For although Dick may not be on top of the world, he feels things are starting to turn around. That entitles him to a nose mining session in his mind.

Maria tries to ignore the jerks. She flees to serve another table with tears in her eyes. The tear flow occurs partially due to Joey's abusive and obnoxious behaviour, Rocco's rotten reeking rippers, and Dick's digging for gold with his finger.

Primarily, the tears result from the fact to Timmy hasn't moved a muscle. He lies unconscious at the hospital. She spends every free moment with him. She's wearing down. She's withering. But, she'll never give up hope. Although, she wishes that Joey's repulsive roving hands would give up hope.

Back at the table of clowns, Joey yells, "Wanna fix Susan Clark!" He pounds the table, sending those Golden Eagle whiskey glasses to dancing. "Wedding's back on. And that damn Susan played marriage counsellor yesterday."

"We'll fix her Boss," promises Dick.

"What shit luck we's having. With Timmy in the hospital, them Romano brothers getting real cocky. Them clowns threatened me, Joey Corsini, to stay off their turf."

Rocco fidgets with his massive mitts. "We's, we's need to sit down and talk to 'em. Their swell guys."

"Fucking first!" Joey roars. "Rocco Corsini wanna talk. Scared of those shit heads? Or is it they's your brother-in-laws, and you changing sides?"

Rocco squirms, making his chair squeal in pain. "No! just..."

"Was you in on Timmy's beating?"

Rocco turns a bright red. "No! No, Joey!"

"Sure, Rocco! Cause that was more than a scare! He gonna bite the big one. And with my brother scared shitless of 'em three apes. We's gonna get squeezed out."

Rocco slumps in shame. Joey rises, begins to pace and rages like a crazed bull. He grabs a bowl of peanuts. "We's gotta get a plan. Need to neutralize them boys."

A thought flows into Rocco's otherwise vacant brain. "Joey, get Sophia to talk to 'em."

Hammer saves a whiskey glass, for instead he fires the bowl of peanuts at the wall. "Stupid idea!" A peanut finds its way into Rocco's drink. Rocco didn't see the landing spot of the thirsty peanut, and went to drain his glass. He sputters, coughs and begins choking. Dick and Joey carry on without paying Rocco any attention.

"Let's set them up Joey," Dick suggests.

Joey stops raging and pacing. "Good thinking. Time for Officer Rossini. And Rocco, shut the fuck up!"

Maria scampers up to a choking Rocco and whacks him hard on the back. The pesky peanut flies out of his mouth landing on the table. "Thank you." Rocco mutters.

"Are you okay?" Maria asks.

"He's fucking fine!" The crude Joey slaps Maria on the bum while she's focusing on Rocco's health. "Got her!" Hammer let's out an obnoxious cackle that would send any woman's skin to crawling. "Nice ass," the pig Joey says in a raucous voice. "Hey señorita, any time you wanna play with my big taco?" All three creeps roar with laughter. Maria escapes from the table with a mix of shame and anger pulsating through her.

"Okay Rocco, none more interruptions," Joey scolds. "Back to business."

"What will be the crime for the Romano boys?" Dick asks.

Joey concentrates. He grabs a peanut off the table, pops it in his mouth. The same bad boy peanut that roughed up Rocco. He continues to think while he crunches. "Bigger the better!"

One golfer who crunched nothing today was Barb Bond. She calls Billy from Texas. He answers the ringing phone in the Pro Shop. A torrent of tears flow over the line as she sobs.

Barb brings it down to sniffles, taking a long moment to speak. "Billy."

"Barb, what is it?"

"I stunk up the course," Barb babbles into the phone.

"Tell me how it went?"

"Couldn't hit a shot if my life depended on it." She lets out another series of sniffles, attempting to get a hold of herself. "I'll never make the cut after tomorrow."

"First, that's not unusual for your Virgin Pro Tournament. Second, that Texas course is one of the toughest tracks you'll ever play."

"Really!"

"For sure! Look Barb, you got real talent. But..."

"But I got a shit attitude."

"Bingo! Now go out there tomorrow. Do your best! Then when you get back. You and I'll start a rigours training program."

"Is it gonna be tough Billy?"

"You bet Barracuda. And I'll push you hard. Cause we've called in some favours. You get a second chance. You're entered in as a local at the Mickey Write Invitational in San Diego. Only six weeks away."

One chump that hopes his second chance waits right around the corner is Joey. Hammer sits in his big leather chair in his office. He smokes a Cuban cigar with his feet up on his desk, and a glass of whiskey in his hand. The phone rings. He grabs it. "Hammer here!"

The mocking voice of Eddie Corsini vibrates in Joey's ear. "You're more of a monkey wrench then a hammer. Unfortunately, I have bad news."

"What is it cousin Eddie?"

"There has been an accident."

"Who?"

"Not that you care," Eddie says. "Don't cheer too loud."

Joey removes his feet from the desk. "So who?"

"Uncle Vinnie's dead."

FOUR

An exhausted and concerned looking Maria gazes at the limp lifeless body in the Palm Springs Hospital. "Oh Timmy! Please, please wake up. I want to tell you how I feel."

A motionless Timmy lies on the bed, wearing massive bandages on his head and face. He has a fractured skull, broken arm, broken ribs and the list goes on. The gorgeous Greenskeeper took a terrible beating two weeks ago. The punks who worked him over ensured he'd never be the same, if he makes it. And if he does make it, what concerns the doctors, is the pummelling his head suffered as Timmy is still unconscious.

She touches his face with adoring tenderness. "I'll love you no matter what you look like when the bandages come off."

Barb struts into the hospital room. "Any change in the White Knight's condition?"

"No!" Maria replies with tears welling up.

Barb gives Maria a comforting hug. "Go get some air, and something to eat. I'll stay with Timmy."

"Can't leave him!"

"Other than work, you've been here every moment. Need to go get some rest."

A despondent Maria rises to leave. "Who do you think did this?"

"Got definite ideas." Barb quivers. "And I may be next."

"No, you won't," comes from a faint voice laying in the bed.

"Timmy!" Both ladies scream as they race to his side. Maria smothers the groggy man with a long welcome back embrace.

"How bad?" Timmy asks.

Maria takes his hand. "You, you will be fine. Just get lots of rest."

"Feel like someone drove over me," he whispers and groans. "Who the hell?"

"Don't worry about that," commands Maria. "Just get better."

Barb points to Maria. "And you better listen to this Angel. She's spent most of the last two weeks at your bedside."

A weak Timmy gazes at Maria, squeezes her hand and says, "I love you!"

Expressions of love have certainly never flowed from these to life-time Mob members. Both Joey and Sophia stride along with the delivery men, who bring in the first slot machine into Golden Eagle. Joey thinks how this slot is just the start of his dream, wait until he has his casino completed.

Mr. Howard Mortimer positions himself with head held high, and hands behind his back. He blocks the path as the bulky machine is hauled into the elegant entrance. Joey and the procession halt.

"What is that contraption?" Howard inquires utilizing a plummy voice.

"Slot machine," replies Joey. "Can't you tell?"

"Mr. Corsini, are you bringing those scourges of Society into our fine establishment?"

"Fucking right!" Sophia sneers at Howard. "Now move along old man."

Howard huffs and elevates his nose in the air. "You will promptly hear from our newly formed Membership Committee concerning this latest outrage."

"Yous guys on that committee can go stuff it," responds Joey as he satisfies himself with a light through-the-pants ball massage. "Now, out of my way!"

Shock covers Howard's face with Joey's lewd self-groping gesture. He holds up his arms. "Wait a minute!"

"Go mourn your dead kid or something," shouts Sophia. "But get the fuck out of our way!"

Howard seethes inside at the attitude of the classless Corsini family. He has one more point to address with Joey. Howard folds his arms, digging in, making his demand. "I have engaged the services of an extremely reputable private investigator to inquire into Chuck's death. I want him to ask some Golden Eagle staff a few questions."

"No fucking way," Joey yells. "Officer Rossini's assigned to the case."

Howard snorts in disgust. "I have hired the best money can buy. However, this investigation requires co-operation."

"Piss off Mortimer! Go do a flick or something. Unless you wanna get hurt. Lets go boys." Joey and the delivery thugs almost trample Howard with Sophia enjoying a malicious laugh. As the slot carrying gang push by Howard, his spectacles are knocked to the floor, shattering into pieces, ruffling his feathers even further.

"Ay, might improve your golf," Joey mocks with Sophia continuing her irritating cackle, hooking arms with Joey.

An infuriated Howard stands speechless as he sees blurry Mob images leaving him and his broken spectacles behind. Now more than ever, he's determined to fight this. And determined to up the efforts on his Private Investigation. He concludes that playing above board with these crooks will be a waste of time.

As Joey and Sophia proceed, trailing after the slot, she squeezes Hammer's arm. "Finally, making this place livable."

"Now that Uncle Vinnie's stiff as a board. We's gonna run this show any way us guys like."

"Ooh Hammer! Love it when you get all forceful."

"Eddie's coming to tell us what's in the old coot's Will. Expect me and Rocco gonna own the joint."

"Excellent!" Sophia says in a honeyed tone. "And I'll be right there backing you Joey."

Joey raises his bushy brows in surprise. He's noticed how Sophia and him get along better lately. Planning the casino together has brought them closer. For it is a passion the two do enjoy — along with one other thing.

"Once we drop off the slot, let's go back in your office and have our own private celebration." She purrs like a pussy ready to pounce on a mouthwatering mouse. She touches Joey on the arm and winks.

The two stop. They let the delivery boys go on. They stare into each others eyes. "You sure?"

She nods. "What the hell! Wheels have totally fallen off my marriage." She points at his crotch. "I can finish that massage you started."

A chagrin faced Joey rubs his chin. "But..."

"Come on Hammer!" The temptress bats her lashes, thrusting out her chest, drawing nearer. "Just like the old days." She pinches Joey on his solid ass which she has always enjoyed admiring. "Crooked things get me hot!"

The next day the discarded third wheel Rocco stands on the tee box at the first hole of Golden Eagle. Driver in hand, addressing the ball, and ready to grip and rip his first ever golf shot. Dick selected the golf attire for Rocco. Glitter and sparkle best describe the outfit.

With Rocco's size and those outrageous colours and patterns, he inflicts eye-strain on every member wherever they are on the course. In fact, the huge Rocco and the tiny Dick dressed in their vibrant and exuberant golf garb makes the two look like a couple of animated characters living one county over at Disneyland.

Rocco unleashes a monster swing, missing the ball. "Shit!" The exertion has the big fella passing wild nose-withering wind from his atomic asshole.

Dick sniffs the air and scurries back. He thinks how this clumsy clown will make a terrible golfer, and much worse playing partner. "Good try Rocco. Keep your head down."

Another golf swing from Rocco, hitting nothing but air. "Fuck!" He slams his club on the ground, making the earth shimmer like a small earthquake. "Dumb game!" Rocco turns to depart.

"One more try Rocco. Move a little closer to the ball. And not quite as wide a stance. Oh and keep that head down."

The giant attempts his virgin swing one more time and strikes the ball. "Holy Shit!" He blares for the entire course to hear. A window on one of the palatial homes surrounding Golden Eagle shatters, followed by ear piercing screams.

Dick's eyes open wide in amazement. "I never thought."

Proudly and clumsily, Rocco prances about. "But I whacked it."

"Did you ever!" Dick slaps his forehead. "No one has ever put a ball that far to the right."

"Let's do it again."

The game proceeded much the same the rest of the way. Rocco was a one man wrecking crew on Golden Eagle. He was responsible for two flat tires on the golf cart, three broken clubs and one broken flagstick. You'd think that was enough. He severely damaged three greens by using the wrong club. If Greenskeeper Timmy was healthy, Rocco wouldn't have been.

In addition, the big fella left countless massive divots. We're talking mini-canyons. And oh yeah, one more broken window of a neighbouring home. Not just another day on the course for Dick, who looked a wreck when they finished their 6 holes. The worst thing about the day for the Assistant Head Pro was the explosive and potent farts, Rocco paraded out with pride, one after another.

After Dick called a halt to the madness at #6, Rocco became sullen. He turns to Dick and asks, "Do ya think Sophia's been faithful?"

"Ah, ah Rocco. Why, why would you think that?"

"Smelled a chump's aftershave on her yesterday. Could be some loser right here. Next to Joey, you the only other guy I trust."

"You can trust me Rocco."

"Hey Dick, how'd ya get that bruise on your cheek?"

"Ah, um, I, walked into a door."

Rocco's dim witted chuckle spills out. "Crazy, so did Joey yesterday. Gotta nasty bruised forehead to show for it."

Dick's fear meter blasts off. "Just, just a funny coincidence."

"For sure." Rocco scratches that noggin. Is he ever going to pick up on these little clues? "But what bugs me. That nice Tennis Pro and friend of Sophia, Candy, says how super it is that we's gotta open marriage." Rocco strokes his chin. "We's don't got any open marriage."

Dick thinks about what that so called All American girl, Candy Spooner is all about. She's as sweet as pie, all sugar and spice. Attempting to utilize her honey offerings to reel in some real cash. For Candy has pursued numerous males in Palm Springs with money.

Although, she caught no money-fish yet. He's heard around the Golden Eagle grapevine that she wants to land a 300 pound Rocco. Dick muzzles a laugh as he thinks of how quickly the bright smiling Candy would be throwing her catch back, if she actually reeled in the blubbery whale.

Rocco blows out his chubby cheeks. "Gotta do some thinking. Starting to wonder if Sophia's a tramp. Just a Jersey tramp!"

Dick sweats like a guilty pig ready for slaughter. "Hmm, I'm sure she's faithful."

"Almost never has sex with me. So..."

Dick wipes his betraying brow. "Nothing to worry about. Sophia's an angel! Maybe it's a health issue with her." Dick thinks it's a health issue all right. Sophia's an incurable nymphomaniac, can't get enough cock, whatever the shape or size.

"Yeah, maybe."

"Nothing to worry about big guy."

Rocco whacks the golf cart with his putter. "But if I ever find any chump messing with my lady." He delivers another anger whack to the golf cart. "I'll kill da bum!" Two more thunderous shots to the dinted golf cart are carried out. "But first I'll cut off his..."

FIVE

Joey's first priority better be taking care of his kahunas, and he may want to refrain from golfing with his jealous brother. But ever since Uncle Vinnie's death only two weeks ago, his number one focus has been creating a casino within Golden Eagle. Sure he lost a couple of days when they went to Vegas for their Uncle's funeral. Even then, it turned out to be productive. For Joey and Rocco spent more time buying casino toys in Vegas than grieving.

Now no one knows what Sophia was doing in Vegas. Certainly, it wasn't grieving. Did Sophia hit her old sorted stops? Did she spark any old flames? Only one family member showed genuine sorrow. Poor Rosa took Uncle Vinnie's death hard.

Upon the Mob families return from Vegas, Joey led a whirlwind of activity. The former large staff room at Golden Eagle, along with some sizeable back storage rooms, were renovated into a lavish miniature Las Vegas Casino. The door to the gamblers paradise proudly holds two signs. The first sign in small letters signals, "Private". The second sign in big bold letters barks out, "Joey's Place". No expense was spared on Hammer's pride and joy.

Joey's private club now boasts of having the best slot machines, roulette table, craps table, three blackjack tables, finely polished bar, small stage with pole for the strippers to do their dirty dance, and many other features that make the Corsini's feel right at home.

Those sleazy uniforms that Sophia brought for Golden Eagle, which definitely do not suit the exclusive upper-crust Club, have found their rightful home. For those form fitting outfits fit Hammer's casino atmosphere to a tee. They blend in with this sin-filled fun-promising dazzling decor.

Maybe the one-time exotic dancer Sophia, parading in one of the new club uniforms, will bring back memories by performing a striptease up on the stage for old time sake. Will she use Hot Legs as her stage name? Will she heat up the gents with lap dances as well? Will she gamble away her tips?

As a kickoff Joey invited the Romano brothers to join him to check out the new atmosphere he created. Maybe rub their noses in the fact that their Rancho Mirage Golf Club has nothing that can match his swanky joint. Joey loves gambling establishments. He loves gambling, and all the temptations, thrills and trimmings that go with it.

Also, Joey wants to chat about the local drug trade. He wants to have some sort of understanding. Although, once Joey acquired the right muscle, he would throw that understanding out the window, along with the Romano Brothers. Positioned around the table are those three bullheaded brothers, their sister and Rocco's wife, Sophia — along with Rocco and Joey. The ever present Dick cowers in the corner. Is this part of his Assistant Head Pro job description?

"Now that the niceties taken care of," Joey says. "On to the drug trade."

Carlo Romano, the oldest Romano brother, pounds the table. It sends a whiskey glass to teetering on the edge of that table. Rocco attempts to save it, but the clumsy giant knocks that Golden Eagle glass to the floor, pushing the breaking whiskey glass count to three.

Carlo bellows, "Drug trade's ours! Fuck off."

"Now boys!" Joey places his hands on the table, hoping to calm things down. "Let's act civilized like."

Carlo stands and shakes his fist at Joey. "Yous guys are late to the dance. No room for yous leaches."

"Shut up and sit down!" Sophia commands. "You're talking big cause you know Timmy's out of the game. But there's lots of room for both families."

"Sis, why you on both sides of the fence?" Johnny Romano, the youngest brother asks.

Sophia scowls at him, hitting Johnny over the head. "You fool. I hope you realize with the unfortunate croaking of Uncle Vinnie, that Rocco and me will get a large piece of Golden Eagle."

The smart-ass Johnny smirks. "Thought Vinnie hated yous two?"

Sophia tries to hit Johnny again. He moves too quick. She strikes the back of a chair. "Ouch!" She shakes her injured hand and mutters, "Joey, Rocco and I were Uncle Vinnie's favourites. We're moving on up."

The hard-nosed Carlo glowers at his sister, and says in a guttural tone. "We don't give a fuck! No deals." He then pulls out his gun. He slams it on the table. "Gotta fight for turf." Carlo snorts. "And if Rocco is your muscle. Yous guys got nothing."

Rocco looks down in embarrassment. Carlo leans over and slaps Rocco across the face, bringing another shade of red to the disgraced giant. "Stay out! Or yous Corsini's gonna be sent to the big casino."

Sophia throws a drink in her husband's face. "Weak pussy!" This sits as almost the last straw with Rocco. Sophia thinks how she should have married Joey? If Rocco wasn't in line for a piece of Golden Eagle. She'd dump the awkward ape right now.

With a subtle motion, Joey pulls his ear. Dick slips out of the room unnoticed while the Romano brothers extend their hardy laugh at the wet and whipped Rocco's expense.

With lightening speed, Officer Rossini and another Police Officer from the Palm Springs Police Department thunder through the door with guns drawn. "Romano brothers! You're under arrest for first degree murder."

One Mob man that will never be set up that easy marches in with head held high. Eddie Corsini leads a parade into the entrance of Golden Eagle. At his side walks the love of Eddie's life — a mean Rottweiler named Killer. Two steps behind Eddie lumbers an even meaner looking muscle-bound bald bodyguard named Bubba.

Eddie's a fine looking guy in his mid forties. He's a well tailored sharp dresser topped off by his stylish fedora. He's well schooled at Yale, well hung and satisfied by numerous beautiful broads, well thought of by the criminal element, And well entrenched as the new head of the Corsini family. And finally, he enjoys an extremely high opinion of himself.

Eddie and his entourage proceed straight to Joey's office where Joey, Rocco, Sophia, Rosa and Susan await him. All sit except Joey who appears pumped and ready to catch a windfall.

A smug Eddie plants himself in Joey's big leather chair. He gets down to business with that protective pooch positioned next to him. That dog loves his coke. Yes, the sugar-laden soda. Bubba the bodyguard sets a doggy dish in front of Killer, filling it with coke. The canine proceeds to lap louder than an untuned lawnmower, showing off his black stained teeth.

The inscrutable Eddie kicks off the meeting. "Afternoon everyone! Thank you for attending. I will lay out the terms of Uncle Vinnie's will as it pertains to the Golden Eagle Golf and Tennis Club."

"Any other mention of us guys in the will?" Joey asks while giving his lower section a relaxing rub for all to see.

"No," replies Eddie.

"Please stop playing with yourself Joseph," Susan snaps. "I would have never given you that belt if I knew you're hands were going to take up that hobby." A chuckle from the room with an embarrassed Hammer finding a chair!

"Here, play with this." Susan hands Joey a paperweight from his desk.

When Eddie finishes laughing at his cousin, he lays out the details in a matter of fact tone. "This discussion only pertains to the Golden Eagle Golf and Tennis Club which was 100% owned by Uncle Vinnie. And it excludes the Golden Grill which is already 100% owned by one, Susan Clark." Eddie gazes over and stares loathing at Susan. Susan lobs a pleasant smile back at him.

"A 20% interest in the Golden Eagle has been given to each of the following four individuals: Joey Corsini, Rosa Corsini, myself, and to Uncle Vinnie's only natural child, Virginia Clark, who is Susan's daughter."

"No fucking way!" Joey bellows.

"Yes, Joey," states Eddie. "And that 20% will be managed in trust by Susan until Virginia is of legal age." Eddie shoots Susan a scathing look. "Unless of course, Susan is unable to manage the Trust. Then, whoever is Head of the Club shall control the shares until Virginia comes of age."

Joey slams his fist into his palm which has the paperweight in it. "Fuck! He leans over, moaning in pain."

Eddie gazes up at the ceiling with a what-an-idiot look and carries on, "That takes care of the first 80%. And now for the remaining 20%."

Sophia pushes out a greedy breath, for she now feels it's Rocco's turn to acquire a slice of the Golden Eagle pie. "Hurry up Eddie!"

Eddie takes his sweet time, knowing he's driving Sophia crazy. "Uncle Vinnie had made a promise to Rosa and Billy Parks concerning their upcoming marriage. He enhanced that promise and reflected it in his Will."

Joey tosses that abusive paperweight in the garbage. "Shit!"

Eddie snarls. "Please let me finish. Except, Uncle Vinnie only references Rosa in the Will, not Billy. The final 20% will be held in trust, and dependent on two specific events. First, 10% will be granted to Rosa on the condition that she is legally married within a year of Uncle Vinnie's death. Second, an additional 10% will be granted to Rosa if she has a child within two years of her wedding day. Thus, meeting these conditions successfully, Rosa can acquire the additional 20% held in trust."

An upset Joey leaps out of his chair. "Rosa could own up to..."

Killer breaks from his slurping, unleashing a menacing growl at Joey.

Eddie smirks. "Wow! You still can't add Joey."

Obviously, Rocco has been left out. He wears a perplexed slack-jawed expression. He attempts to speak. But holds his mouth hanging wide open like a caverns cave. It isn't totally clear if the big man quite understands. Although, his wife sure does, as she wears a red-alert angry look, one step from exploding.

"Fucking 40%!" Sophia fires a cup across the room, sending the Golden Eagle smash cup count to four. She levels a kill-you glare at Rosa, sticking out her tongue.

Eddie leans back in his chair. "Have not changed a bit their, Jersey girl."

The Jersey time bomb explodes. "Fuck you!" She springs out of her chair. Sophia wallops Rocco on his enormous noggin as she storms to the door. Opens it. "The Corsini family sucks!" A double slam of the door as she re-enforces her point. It sends the office walls to shimmering.

"Some things never change," says Eddie. "Now let me carry on. However, if Rosa does not marry for any reason within the year. Or she does not have a child within the specified time." Eddie delivers a wicked grin at Rosa. "Either portion not claimed by Rosa will be made available for a one-hand five-card draw poker game between Joey and myself. It would be a winner take all with Susan Clark there to deal, and to ensure all is above board. So my dear." He points at Rosa with Killer's piercing eyes zeroing in on the bride to be. The Rottweiler growls. He steps toward Rosa, using those razor-sharp stained teeth to nip at the petrified girl.

Eddie floods the room with the slimiest of laughs. "So good luck with that wedding, and having a bambino."

SIX

After the session with Eddie a troubled Rosa strolls out to the driving range. She's disconcerted by the mean mutt, menacing looks and not so subtle comments directed at her. Only Susan shone happy for her. Even her Father froze her out. Oh how she needs her Billy right now.

But of course, Billy's working with Barb again. She thinks that they sure have spent a lot of time together preparing for the Mickey Write Invitational. Rosa sees how much fun they have. Her and Billy did have fun too. Then the wedding plans started, and those marriage preparation sessions. At times she feels like Father Murphy's determined to break them up. Continually, he plants negative thoughts in her head when they are alone. And she wants him to lose the touchy feely creepy lectures.

She wishes Billy would get more involved in the wedding. He's so occupied with the Head Pro role, and all the new ideas he is implementing. She did however take pride when the eloquent Mr. Mortimer sang Billy's praises on the fantastic job he's doing.

Barb's exuberant voice echoes through the course, "Yes! Billy, you're a genius." She licks her lips, hugging him in appreciation. "I've never hit it that far!"

Rosa frowns and experiences a piercing stab of jealousy. Her Italian blood boils. She contemplates whether Dick and Sophia are right, when they tell her that the two so-called friends are having an affair.

Two people that know all about sorted affairs hit the Palm Springs Jail like a wrestling tag team. Joey and Sophia now appear to work from the same corner. But for how long? Sophia's over the shock and disappointment of Rocco coming up short in Uncle Vinnie's Will. Nothing new for her stupid husband she thinks.

Sophia has spent ample time playing the ponies throughout her life, and she's determined that her new strategy is to bet on another horse or two, or three. And one of her heavy bets rides on Hammer. She'll place a small bet on herself as well, just in case her chosen horses come up lame, or get shot.

Joey and Sophia are escorted to the jail cell where her three brothers are being held on first degree murder charges. She chuckles at the rough shape they're in. "Have you fools learnt your lesson?"

All three groggy Romano brothers rise from their cots. They groan, grunt and rip ground-rattling farts.

Joey wrinkles his nose. "Just like Rocco."

Carlo growls. "Why ain't bail covered? Should a been out of here days ago?"

Joey smirks like a chump who holds all the crooked cards. "Wanted to give yous time to think."

"Time to re-think Joey's offer with a few changes," Sophia adds. "Here's the deal. You work out reasonable terms for sharing turf. And the charges are magically dropped."

Joey sniffs the air and scrunches up his face. "Or you stay in this fine five star hotel."

Carlo clenches his dirty fists. "No fucking way!"

Joey crosses his arms in front of him. "Boys! Make a deal, and yous out. Whether yous whacked Chuck or not?"

Johnny lets out a deep sigh. "Shit."

Sophia sees her siblings are ready to cave. Her piece of the crooked pie awaits right around the corner. "Except, in the Romano share of the proceeds — I now get a small piece. The exact same percentage the Corsini's are giving me."

Sophia wants a cut for brokering this deal. She's tired of asking for every dollar, tired of driving that piece of shit Buick and tired of having nothing. Her three brothers own the Rancho Mirage Club. She holds no ownership position. She's frustrated with being treated like shit in this male dominated Mob world. Also, she knows that Joey gets turned on when she plays the tough Jersey girl role.

Carlo swears and curses. He pushes a food tray off his cot. "Let's fucking deal!"

One guy, who feels as if he has been living in prison, prays for his release. An anxious Timmy prays his face will not receive a form of life sentence as he awaits. "Oh my God!" Timmy bellows out as the mirror is held up by Maria, after the bandages on his face are removed. The Doctor exits the room leaving the two young folks to deal with Timmy's new reality. "No! No! My life's ruined!"

Maria sets down the bad-news mirror. She holds his hand, giving it a loving squeeze. "Not that bad."

"Yes, it is! I'll never get another screen test."

"But you're alive."

"May as well be dead." A shattered Timmy buries his head in his hands. "I'll be a hideous looking chump the rest of my life."

"The scars will heel."

Timmy studies himself in the mirror. "I'll always look like this."

"You'll always be my handsome gringo." Maria gives him a heartfelt hug. "I love you!"

"And I love you, Maria. But no!" Timmy pulls away from her hug. "You feel sorry for me right now. Move on! You can never love a monster like me."

Eddie Corsini has been referred to as a manipulating monster on many occasions. He flew back into Palm Springs from Vegas this afternoon. The sharp dressed Head of the Corsini family sits at a corner table of the Golden Eagle's fine dining establishment called Eagle's Perch.

Eagle's Perch ranks as one high class restaurant with its Chef imported from France, snobby waiters, fine china, excellent wine cellar, panoramic view, huge fireplace and fresh flowers for every table. Joey shares that table with Eddie. Hammer's uncomfortable in a sophisticated restaurant such as this. While the cosmopolitan Eddie oozes comfortable.

Eddie is right at home. Eddie positions his coke-swilling guard dog at his side with a fresh bowl of his favourite beverage. As well as his never-smiling bodyguard Bubba, standing two steps behind him covering his back. After the death of Uncle Vinnie, Eddie takes added precautions surrounding his personal security.

Being the newly crowned Godfather of a Mob family carries its health risks. Especially when one considers, Eddie's relatively young age to acquire that lofty Mob position. The threats can come from law enforcement, from other families, and the most danger, can come from within the family. One aspect the naive Uncle Vinnie never really understood in Eddie's mind.

Eddie swirls and sniffs a glass of expensive wine. "First thing Joey, some FBI Agents have been nosing around on Uncle Vinnie's death. Co-operate with the scum." Eddie levels a threatening finger at Hammer. "But tell them nothing."

A jumpy Joey taps his fingers on the table. "Does them guys got any leads?"

"Fools! Trying to pin it on someone close to him." Eddie savours a sip of his wine. "They think it could be somebody in the family."

"No way!"

Dick slips up to the table, handing Eddie a message. "Sorry Sir! They said it was urgent."

Eddie glances at the message and nods. "Thank you."

Killer peers up from his coke dish, letting out a please-to-meet-you sound. The dogs eyes grow wider, licking his lips. The suddenly smitten pooch lets out an I-want-you bark. He makes a straight line for Dick's crotch. He sniffs, snuggles and swoons over his new special friend. Within seconds the revved up rover mounts Dick's leg, making Dick his bitch.

Eddie snaps, "Killer! Stop that!" Bubba scrambles to bring the dirty dog back in line. But the randy Rottweiler battles to cling to a petrified Dick. Finally, Killer's pulled away from his new love target by Bubba. But not before Dick's disgrace is complete.

"I apologize for Killer."Eddie Smirks as he swirls his wine glass. "He seems to be enamoured with certain types."

Eddie and Joey roar with laughter. A red-faced dishevelled Dick flees the room with his tail between his legs. A sexually adventurous Killer returns to lapping up his coke.

"On to business, Joey. Susan is a particular problem."

"Been since we's got here," The jittery Joey claims as he attempts to pick up his wine glass, spilling on himself.

"What Joey! Never held a wine glass before?"

Joey turns a shade of the wine he just spilt. "Sure, sure I have."

Eddie laughs at his cousin's lack of class. Although, for a guy who thinks of himself as such a classy fella, why's that fedora on his head in such an upscale place? "We need to neutralize her. For I want to be Head of the Golden Eagle Board with no one standing in my way."

The dog halts his coke fix. He delivers a warning growl.

"And I mean no one," Eddie reinforces.

"We's gotta Board?"

"Yes, With the new share structure. Everyone with an ownership interest will be part of the Board. Merely a formality as I will run this operation from Vegas. You'll do my bidding. Got it!"

The cruel canine Killer laps up the last drop. He intensifies his growling at Joey.

"Okay, okay Eddie." Although, what runs through Joey's mind isn't co-operation and kissing Eddie's ass. Doing whatever it takes to ensure he is head of this joint, dominates his backstabbing brain.

Joey thinks controlling the daughter he loves sits is one key. He's sure Rosa will follow him like a well-trained dog, provided he eliminates any undesirable influences. Deadening Billy and deadening those wedding bells will be critical. Hammer feels pissed that Uncle Vinnie would give such a large portion to Rosa, rather than giving it to him. Next, removing Susan from the picture becomes another key. She'll require additional underhanded dealings. And that's his specialty Joey figures.

Eddie pets his dog. "Second, this wedding."

"On top of that, we's gotta plan to disrupt the lovely event." He dances inside as Eddie and him have a couple of similar objectives. Although, their final goal varies dramatically. And as far as that showdown poker game, Joey's sure he'll kick Eddie's ass.

Eddie leans forward and scowls. "I want no screw ups. And I mean no screw ups."

Killer's growls run over the top this time, for the dog wants a piece of Joey meat. He attempts to take a nip from Hammer's leg.

Eddie levels another threatening finger at Joey. "You won't find me as tolerant as Uncle Vinnie. If you know what I mean?"

"Hear you Eddie." Joey slides his chair over to escape the chomping Killer.

Eddie brushes lint from his expensive suit coat. "Then when the wedding is scuttled, and Rosa's sent to the Convent. You and I will square off in a winner-take-all poker game for the ages, which of course, I will win."

"We's looking forward to that!"

"Finally Joey, that Latino girl working in the bar!"

"Oh Maria, fired her for a day, but..."

"Don't want her fired. I want her made available for me when I'm here."

"Really!" Joey smiles inside as he ponders the wounded Timmy's reaction to Eddie's demand for Maria. She's one hot chilli-pepper of a chick. The one-winged horrible looking fool will want to defend her honour. But, the Hammer thinks that Killer and Bubba can deal with the broken Greenskeeper. Joey rubs his hands in anticipation, bring on the heavy weight bout.

"Joey, make that happen for me."

Hammer's mischievous brain races. "No problem Eddie. When you want her. Just gotta take her."

SEVEN

One girl that got totally taken by Joey is Barb. Although, she rebounded very well. Late in the evening as the sun goes down, Barb hits balls out on the driving range. Her swing sizzles and smokes. Her putting has turned right around, and her shit attitude toward the game and practice has shown a marked improvement.

Billy's been a fantastic coach. He's been such a task master with her. She relishes the fact, and the time they spend together. She reflects how Billy has changed. He gives a damn about the club — being Head Pro is definitely Billy's bag. He's become a strong force and solid leader.

Oh, how that turns her on. A growing redness forms on her face. She stops to clasp her hands together, and a dryness sparks her to moisten her lips with her tongue. She shakes her fantasizing head, attempting to break the lusty urges. For she's determined to keep her horny hands off the Head Pro and his solid shaft.

Five minutes pass and Barb's sex spell fizzles out. She returns to her golf swing. Dick sneaks up on her, while she's concentrating on her next shot. He bellows, "You suck!"

It throws off her swing. The ball skims along the ground. Dick howls with laughter, slapping his knee. The jeering jerk places his hands on his throat. "Do you know what that means?"

Barb ignores him, gnashing her teeth.

"You're a choker Miss Bond!"

"Dick, fuck off!"

"You choked in Texas. You'll choke in San Diego! And then as Assistant Head Pro I'll do everything to throw you out of Golden Eagle."

"Whatever."

"And you'll have to go back to Oakland with your tail between your legs. Daddy won't be pleased." He sniggers. "Your worrywart Mommy will just cry in the corner. Oh and too bad about your scaredy cat, Muffin!"

Barb frowns at the short Mr. Short. She wonders how he knows the level of fear her mother lives in? Ever since the eery phone calls began. Those calls that started immediately after Sophia went whacko with a driver in the Pro Shop.

Barb loves her family. Sick with worry, best describes how she feels since the intimidation tactics began. Those sleazy tactics utilized by Sophia the snake, and those reptiles that crawl right along with her.

Although, the lowest of lows was to then break into her apartment in Palm springs, and kill Muffin the cat. Then to leave poor Muffin's dead body in the middle of her bed. That was so sick and deprived. Oh how she loved Muffin. And to do the despicable deed two days before the Texas Qualifying Tournament sent a deadly bone-shuttering message.

Barb walks up to Dick, grabs his balls and squeezes for all she's worth.

"Ow! Ow!" Dick screams, attempting to push her away.

"All right you little prick. Tell me what you know."

"Piss off!"

She stomps on his foot.

"Ouch!" Tears roll down Dick's eyes. "Help! Help!"

"No one around scum bag." She stomps again, squeezes those gems harder. "Now your gonna talk!"

"Ow! Ow! Ow!" Dick struggles, strains and falls to the ground. He puffs, pants and prays his testicles are still in tact. He breathes a sigh of relief when he escapes the ball-breaking grip. "Telling you nothing!"

Barb kicks him in the ass. "Go crawl off with Sophia and that scum." She kicks him again for good measure.

"Ow! I'll have you killed!" Dick struggles to move. He whimpers. "Timmy won't protect you this time. Ugly one armed Timmy's finished."

"And who did that?"

Dick squeezes out a weak menacing chuckle. "Doesn't matter. He's out of the game. And that means you're next."

Rosa sips on a soothing cup of tea at the Golden Grill. She appears deep in her thoughts as she fixes her gaze at the colourful and sweet smelling flowers in a vase on the table.

"Penny for your thoughts, Rosa!"

"Oh what?"

"You're deep in thought," says Susan. "Anything I can help with?"

The downcast Rosa clears her voice and struggles to speak. But barely a sound filters out, "I'm fine."

"No, you are not." Susan sits down beside her. "Now tell me."

"I'm too embarrassed." The guilt-ridden Rosa hangs her head.

Susan takes her hand, utilizing a gentle tone, "Do you know something? You're just like your mother."

"You knew my mother?"

"Absolutely! We were good friends. And we used to share everything. So I may not be your mother, but please let me help?"

"Okay." Rosa collects herself. "Do you ever get the feeling scheming and plotting's going on all around us?"

Susan smiles in understanding. "And it may not be in our best interest."

Rosa forces out a sliver of a smile. "Exactly!"

"Let me give you some advice about being a woman in a Mob family. Your Mother learned it the hard way." Susan scans about to ensure no one can hear. "Rosa, whatever you do. Take care of yourself. Do not, and I mean do not, blindly trust anyone."

"They treat me like a naive girl."

Susan sighs with her own memories. "Know that feeling!"

"Then let's make a pact Susan. We work together, no matter what."

"Done!" The two shake hands, and enjoy a conspiratorial chuckle. "Now what's bothering you?"

"Well, first, the wedding. My Billy's not involved in planning or doing anything."

The owner of the Golden Grill laughs. "Welcome to Wedding Planning 101. You'll get no help, nor should you expect any help from most grooms."

"That sounds like my Billy. He seems so wrapped up in the Club."

"Do you know how many members are raving about the new programs, great service and the whole experience around the golf at Golden Eagle? All cause of your fiancee."

"I know Susan. Real proud of him. But..."

"But you want Billy to help with the wedding?"

"Yes, but, well, don't want to bother him."

"Than ask him," Susan instructs. "He has no clue you need help."

"I will! Thank you."

"And what's really bothering you Rosa?"

"Well, a few weeks ago. Billy and I..."

Susan finishes the sentence, "Made love."

Rosa turns bright red. "How'd you know?"

"Obvious to anyone paying attention."

"This is the embarrassing part." Rosa cringes.

"What is it?"

"I haven't had my, well you know, period yet." Tears begin to swim in Rosa's eyes. "Do you think I'm pregnant?"

Timmy came back to work as soon as the bandages were removed. He has managed to perform his duties even with his arm in a sling. A permanent frown resides on his face since he returned to tend the greens of Golden Eagle. He proceeds to the Club House when Dick notices his disfigured profile.

Dick yells out for all to hear, "Hey, ugly man. Some Hollywood star you'll make." That despicable Dick cackles, trumpeting out another shot, "Scar face!"

Timmy ignores Dick and continues to make his way to the Golden Grill. He hears an ear-piercing scream from the unopened bar. The one-winged White Knight races in that direction. Dick and Howard Mortimer follow, hot on his heels.

"Leave me alone!" Maria pleads as a threatening Eddie stands in front of her with his back to Timmy. The dangerous dog poses ready to strike. The neckless Bubba presents a menacing figure hovering right behind Eddie. Maria crouches, cornered in the empty bar. This damsel in distress requires a hero like Timmy. Except, can the White knight still joust?

"Come on woman!"Eddie steps in close. "When I want someone, I want them now." He clasps Maria by the hair, pulling until she screams. "Now let's go!" He strikes Maria on the bum.

Eddie and Bubba hear Timmy and turn to face him.

Eddie scowls. "Beat it Frankenstein!" He turns back to Maria, raising his hand to strike her again. "Move it!"

Even with one arm in a sling Timmy moves like greased lightening. His lethal feet become the primary weapon. Flying leaps, kicks with astonishing power and accurate punches with his one good arm, result in a mess of two thugs. Bubba sprawls in the corner, out cold. Eddie lies on the floor. His stylish fedora lies crumbled beside him. He sputters and swears at Timmy.

No one listens as they all stare in shock. For the first time, Eddie's bald head shines bright, revealing the man's secret. No wonder Eddie always dawned a stylish lid. Does the bald head make him look older? Will that give him a bit more credibility at the upcoming Godfather convention?

The Rottweiler growls, attempting to defend his master. The intelligent Killer takes one long look at Timmy's dangerous eyes. He whines, whimpers and crawls for the door. The panic-struck dog spots his special friend. He scampers up to Dick's trembling leg, and commences to hump his rapidly beating heart out. Does this make Dick and Killer an item?

Joey and Sophia hear the commotion. They enter the bar breathing heavy. What were they up to? Joey's still doing up his zipper. When Joey sees the carnage, he knows exactly what happened, enjoying a smug smile. Also, he reminds himself never to touch Maria's delicious derrière again. Or he'll be in the same pickle as Eddie. But does the self-centred Eddie understand he's sitting at the bottom of Timmy's spoilt pickle jar?

Blood pours from Eddie's lip and nose as he roars, "You're a dead man."

Timmy picks up the Mob Boss with his one good arm. He slams him up against the wall. It rattles every bone in the ego centric Eddie. "You're gonna shut up and listen Slick. You ever come close to Maria again." Eddie's slammed into the wall one more time. "And you're the dead man! Got it you pig!"

"Fuck you," screams Eddie.

Another bone jarring slam rattles Eddie's body. "I repeat. Got it you filthy pig!"

Eddie slumps and spits on Timmy. "I'll kill you!"

One more time Eddie's bones rock & roll up against the wall. Will Eddie ever learn?

"I got it," Eddie whispers. "Freak!"

The entire building shakes when Timmy delivers a double body slam against the crumbling wall. "Not good enough." Timmy pins Eddie to that wall like a rag doll and commands, "I want to hear. Got it, Sir!"

By now the cocky Eddie feels like he has met a monster that may not be worth provoking any further. "Got it, Sir," Eddie mumbles in a strangled tone. Timmy lets him slide to the floor.

Timmy turns to Joey and points at him. Then looks back at Eddie, and says in a low bone-chilling manner. "If I find out the Corsini family or anyone else." Timmy looks at Dick. "Was involved in my beating." Timmy takes a menacing step towards Joey, Who scurries back in a hurry. A wet pants Dick hides behind Joey, attempting to keep his canine lover at bay. "Then my Society and myself will break you two bit thugs into tiny pieces."

Next, Timmy points a finger at Sophia. She chews her gum, laughing at him. "And Sophia. If you and your brothers were involved in attacking me — then it is all out war!" The White Knight sneers. "And we'll start with you."

Sophia's natural reaction is to tell him where to go. She flips Timmy the finger. She accelerates her gum chewing.

Timmy carries on, "And I stand by my promise to Barb. Anymore bullshit directed at her or her family." He karate chops a wooden chair. It splinters into fragments, sending shock waves through everyone in the place. "Hey Dick. Are you sure I'm finished?" Dick's pants just got even wetter. But, Dick's nervous bladder doesn't seem to bother Killer.

Sophia's mouth opens to spew out trash, but nothing comes out. Her mouth opens again. She sees the incredible anger radiating from Timmy. She shuts her mouth for a change. She begins to shake.

Eddie grasps for his gun in his suit coat. Maria shrills a warning shriek. The gun is out. Timmy turns and snap kicks it out of Eddie's hand. The gun discharges. There goes another window. Timmy follows up with a directed roundhouse kick that makes Eddie's arm snap, crackle and pop.

The angry Greenskeeper bends down and hauls a screeching Eddie to his feet. "You've over 300 bones in your body. That's just a start if you ever try something stupid like that again." Timmy moves to comfort Maria.

Eddie slumps and slides back down to the floor, howling with pain. He thinks how there was no mention of dealing with White Knight monsters in the Godfather training manual.

Timmy barks out an order to a trembling Joey, "Call a doctor."

EIGHT

Barb plays well on her first day of the Mickey Write Invitational. Her caddy Billy spends much of the round keeping her confidence up as the field in the tourney is strong. Even ball breaking Barb is somewhat intimidated. She hangs in there on Day #1. But has some work to do on Day #2 to make the cut.

Miss Bond has been staying in San Diego. Billy drives back and forth from Palm Springs to San Diego each day. On the morning of Day #2 Rosa rides to the tournament with Billy. Rosa feels a ton of relief for her flow is back, not pregnant. She wants to be pregnant, but after the wedding. Explaining that to her family would have been traumatic, never mind Father Murphy. Would he have refused to marry them?

She's extremely thankful none of them need ever know. Although, Rosa still has one nagging question to ask Billy. It revolves around those haunting thoughts that Sophia and Dick continue to place in her head. Those thoughts that the two blue eyed Golf Pros are working on much more then golf. Maybe she'll drum up the courage on this trip to inquire.

First, she wants to do something special to relax Billy. The vivacious Rosa cuttles up to her man while he handles the steering wheel. She kisses his ear — letting her tongue lick and probe. It drives the driver wild.

"You knotty girl, how am I going to concentrate?"

The mischievous Rosa continues to nibble and kiss. "Just keep your hands on the wheel. And I'll handle the stick shift."

Billy's zipper is taken care of by Rosa. "Ooh! Time to put it into high-gear." She pulls it out. She stares at the head of the club, kisses it and moans with desire. "Grande!"

Next, she shifts into overdrive. She fondles, licks and sucks the shaft. Or is that the shifter? This inexperienced lady is turning out to be a natural in the sex game. Except, Billy please do not hit any major potholes. Or it may take the thrills out of the fast paced game.

After the climax of the exhilarating high speed head, the couple pants and puffs, relishing Rosa's handling of the stick shift. They laugh and joke about their upcoming wedding as they navigate the curves on the Pacific Highway. The fun meter rises for the lovebirds as last minute decisions are wrestled with. For there's only one week to the big day, and those tying the knot decisions must be finalized.

Billy attempts to do his part and help. Flower arrangements, napkin colour and so on — he turns out to be useless, with Rosa realizing she'll make all the calls. Although, she sincerely appreciates his effort, and for that effort, contemplates the delivery of an even more risky and stimulating sex ride on the way back. She's thrilled she discovered those informative and exhilarating books on sex. She ponders if Barb knows all the tantalizing tricks. Or did she write the books?

When Billy and Rosa arrive in San Diego they take Barb out for a relaxing breakfast. Billy keeps it light. He keeps Barb laughing. Rosa seems quiet. Toward the end of the breakfast, Barb commences to ramp up her excitement level, with Billy skillfully channeling that energy and enthusiasm. So that by tee off, Barb's ready to deliver a high performance effort.

On day #2 a super-charged Barb starts hot and stays hot. She lifts herself into that range where the cut line sits with in reach. She makes the shots. Billy calls the shots. They operate well as a finely tuned team.

It progresses to the eighteenth hole. A birdie on the par four would allow Barb to play on Day #3. Walking up to the tee box Billy whispers in her ear, "Keep it right."

"Okay Billy."

Off the tee box Barb follows Billy's solid advice. The superb drive gives her a splendid lie for her second shot.

Billy pats her on the back. "At a girl!"

The two proceed down the course, Billy chats about her next shot and then says, "Can't wait to take my two favourite girls out for dinner tonight."

Barb flushes at that statement, seems to rub her the wrong way.

Billy points and carries on, "Try to aim for that oak tree."

"Shut up Billy. I know what to do. And it isn't that!"

"But Barb."

"Stop nagging me and let me play. I don't need you."

Barb addresses her ball enraged, letting it fly. She drops it in the sand trap to the right of the green. She slams her club on the ground. "Fuck!" Barb storms to the sand trap with Billy one step behind.

"Wait!"

"Fuck off!" Barb moves to grasp the sand wedge from the golf bag. Billy's hand covers it. He shakes his head.

She snarls. "Give me the damn club."

"Not until you tell me what pissed you off?"

"Don't know." A dejected Barb attempts to grab the sand wedge again.

Billy stops her one more time. "Relax."

"Let me finish this mess and go home." A tear begins to form in her eye. "I'm such a fuck up!"

"First, you're far from that. Take a few breaths." Barb slows down, hangs her head, and inhales some calming air. "Now for this last shot Barb. You're not out of it." Billy hands her the putter.

"No way!"

"Absolutely," insists Billy. "Look at the unique lie. And you need to go for it. This gives you a chance."

"A fucking slim chance."

"Now concentrate Barb. Think positive and relax."

"Okay, okay Billy."

"Besides, you'll never screw up as bad as I did when I was on tour."

Barb enjoys a lengthy laugh, settles in behind her ball and takes a long hard look. She lets the shot go. It speeds straight at the cup with a lot of zip. It strikes the flagpole, popping in the air, dropping into the hole with a triumphant plop.

An ecstatic Barb screams and leaps straight up in the air. She rubs her palms together, racing up to Billy with her tempting taut body. She smothers him with a big kiss and hug. Was that kiss of Barb's a little to close to Billy's lips?

A distrustful and envious Rosa fumes as she watches from the gallery. "Wench," Rosa whispers, grasping her cross as her blood skyrockets upward with every second the mega-excited Barb extends that close-quarter celebratory hug.

Later that evening Joey moves every bit as excited as Barb, but for completely different reasons. Hammer yells, "Drink up boys!"

This is the night Joey's been anticipating for weeks. He's putting on the ritz. Many of his Mob land buddies made the trip from Vegas to officially open his private casino at Golden Eagle. He even invited a few of the top end criminal element from LA to expand his Mob network.

Joey brought in a swanky new jazz band, gallons of expensive booze, hot and spicy do-it-all strippers, and high brow food prepared by the chef at the Eagle's Perch. Joey wants to impress. He wants to be accepted back in. Desperately, he wants to show the Mob community, Hammer's still a player in the gangster game. And that he's not just Eddie's flunky.

Sophia wiggles and waltzes around the party like the Queen she believes she is. Playing the hospitable hostess — ensuring the criminals have a bang up time. In fact, one would swear she parades as Joey's gal, not Rocco's wife.

Now Rocco may not be the swiftest horse on the gangster track. But a dim light begins to go on upstairs. He hangs at a corner table sulking, counting the times Sophia's touched Joey this evening. Those are not just touches. They are lingering lust-filled connections. Of course, Sophia's not talked to Rocco, nor touched him, since the incident with her brothers. Then being left out of the Will made the deep freeze that much colder with his never-satisfied wife.

Thank goodness the pleasant Tennis Pro, Candy Spooner, that so called friend of Sophia's, snuggles beside a sullen faced Rocco, in order to assist the grouchy gorilla to count those flirtatious encounters.

"You're so understanding," the sandy blonde haired Candy says in her sweetest of voices as she lays a suggestive hand on Rocco's gigantic bicep.

The effervescent Candy isn't aware that Rocco's been cut out of the Will. Every chance he gets, Dick fills her head with stories of how much Rocco digs her perky flirtatious disposition, and how he desires her stunning love-sport stature.

But most importantly, Candy's not aware of Rocco's romance-killing flatulence, yet. So in her sweet-smelling world, Rocco's simply ripe rich juicy fruit ready to be picked. Also, she savours a vivid image of a big bulging banana awaiting her. Clearly, Candy failed to do her gold-digging homework.

"They's just good friends," mumbles Rocco.

"Oh Rocco! You're so funny!" Candy's hand slips under the table and squeezes his knee. "Let's get out of here and get some air."

She giggles and gives another stimulating squeeze of that massive knee. Then slips that hand higher up the thigh — a little closer to that big banana, she hopes awaits her. But is the muscle-man grasping the fool-around message?

"Ah Candy! Gotta ask Sophia if I could."

"Oh Rocco," the ever smiling Candy hugs the hulking giant. "You're so yummy!" There go sweet Candy's fool-around fingers. They venture under the table again. They creep ever so close to the anticipated jackpot. Rocco gets excited, and out comes a smelly present for Candy, straight from his ass. Is this a mood killer?

A Juicy Fruit gum chewing Sophia may be focussed on pleasing Joey's guests, but she catches Candy's intentions out of the corner of her street-wise eye. She makes a v-line for their table. "Clear out bitch!"

Candy fans herself. "Come on Sophia. We're all having a bit of fun." She hugs Rocco. "Me and the big guy. You and..."

Working her gum like a crazed lady, Sophia grabs the table and flips it over, sending two glasses flying, taking the broken whiskey glass count to five, and sending Candy tumbling to the floor. Definitely, this kills the mood. The entire joint goes quiet.

Sophia points a finger at the soaking wet Candy. "Stay away from my husband."

Rocco's about to acquire some balls. The giant smoulders inside, about to erupt. For that number of intimate Sophia-Joey touches wiggles its way round in his mind. So step one, he attempts to defend Candy. "But Sophia!"

She slaps Rocco's face with a heavy crack that echoes throughout Palm Springs. "Shut the fuck up. You stupid ox!" And thats' when Rocco's balls vanish into thin air again. Sophia glares at Candy. "Clear out bitch!"

Candy's a Tennis Pro. Candy's in great shape. She gathers herself up and takes her time to rise. For the first time, Candy isn't smiling. "Sophia! You're trash!"

Sophia throws a punch and connects. But that's where Sophia miscalculated Candy's level of sweetness. For Candy came back with a powerful right cross that will leave the Jersey girl with a shiner.

"Chick fight!" The Mob men yell.

A well-intentioned waiter proceeds to break up the scrap. Joey stops him. For this scrap offers primetime entertainment. So, the odds are given. Bets are laid. The two crazy chicks do not let the liquored up thugs down. Especially, when much of the female fighter's clothing gets ripped off in the no rules battle.

The two almost naked scrappers engage in punching, kicking, gouging, slapping, hair pulling, eye poking, nipple twisting and every other trick found in the dirty fighting manual. The gangster howling is deafening. Do these animals care who wins? And is there actually a winner?

Joey wins in a knock out! For the boys love the bottom-feeder burlesque brawl. The West Coast Mob community will rave and reminisce about this legendary bash for years to come. Hammer is back.

One pretty lady, who is much too sweet to ever be in a low-life lady brawl, worries herself sick. Poor Maria loses sleep every night thinking about Timmy. The loyal Latino girl wonders if he will ever let go of his intense anger?

The afternoon of Billy's stag drags on as Maria prepares for a long night at the Golden Eagle Bar where the bachelor party will be held. The gloomy and glum Maria shuffles up to the table. "What will it be Mr. Mortimer?"

"Maria, how about one of your radiant smiles?" She attempts to oblige. But she can't fake it. Howard carries on, "It is tough to be happy when there are clouds hovering about."

"Ci."

"How is Timothy doing?"

"Too much anger."

Howard sighs. "I can understand."

"He's hurting inside." She fights back the tears. "I don't know what to do."

"Be patient Maria."

"Wish I could do something to spark him."

"May I suggest something?"

"Absolutely! Mr. Mortimer, please!"

"I require some inspiration as well. Chuck's death devastated me! However, you two mean a tremendous amount to this old man."

Maria touches him on the shoulder. "You know we're so fond of you."

"I have been considering a new type of movie."

"But I thought you gave up on Hollywood!" Maria's face brightens up. "You were one of the best!"

"Thank you. And I am rejoining the silver screen circus. Thanks to Timothy."

"What?"

"Let me explain Maria. I have witnessed one of Timothy's screen tests. He was good. But not great."

"That dream's dead in his mind."

"But not in mine." An excited Howard leans forward. "Cause when I observed his unfortunate altercation with those, those despicable characters. Amazing! Utterly amazing!"

Maria trembles. "Those, those..."

"Quite so! Except, it sparked an idea. I intend to produce a flick that has a mean tough martial arts fighting man." Howard stands and declares, "And I think the new Timothy would be perfect!"

The night before the wedding and the full moon shines bright. Let the howling begin. As the stag for the new and improved Billy rocks on in the Golden Eagle Bar. A fantastic turnout! The boys are whooping it up. Billy stays dry, not consuming a drop of alcohol. The guest of honour enjoys himself. In fact, he relishes this no booze thing. He made a promise. He'll stick to it.

An exuberant Sammy drapes his arm around Billy and says, "I want to thank you for hiring my Uncle Henry a few years ago. He loves you man." Sammy gives Billy a hug. "You're one cool cat!"

"And you're the best Sammy. Thanks again for sponsoring Barb."

"Man! That broad was crazy in San Diego!"

"She came through!"

Sammy high-fives Billy. "Out of sight! Made the cut at the Mickey Write International. Placed top thirty."

"Sammy, she did herself and Golden Eagle proud! Already in the money."

"Hey Dean, did you hear how the Barracuda did?" Sammy yells and strolls over to chat with his celebrity buddy.

Dick ceases the opportunity, and saunters up to Billy. "Great stag my friend! You're marrying a fine gal there."

"Why, thank you Dick!"

"And I want to thank you for how things have worked out. Love working for you." Dick graces Billy with his brightest smile. "You're the best!"

"Thanks Dick. Things have gone well."

"In fact, I brought you one of those fruity non alcohol cocktails. So we can toast to our friendship." Dick hands Billy an aquarium size glass. "Here's to our friendship and your wedding! Bottoms up!" The two savour a long drink. But Billy doesn't drain it. "Come on Billy. Knock it back!"

The Head Pro sucks back the last few ounces. "Good stuff!"

Dick lets fly with a victory smile. "Enjoy the rest of the evening Billy." He then flashes Joey the okay sign.

One hour later a groggy glazed-eyed Billy staggers out the back door to inhale some much needed fresh air. He can't seem to focus, can't seem to think, can't seem to walk straight. He spies someone entering their car in the parking lot. He weaves his way over to the red Corvette.

Barb rolls down the window. "Hey champ! Is it a good send off party?"

"Swell! What, what are you doing here?"

"Picking up something I need."

"Come on! Join the party. Guys would love to see the Barracuda."

"No way!" Barb laughs. "Not going near those drunken animals."

Billy focuses his wild eyes on Barb. The two lock eyes for a long moment. She breaks the silence, using a suggestive smoky tone, "So your last night of freedom?" She rubs her hands together, licking her lips and a redness fills her face.

"Yeah! The guys have been great. But, but I'm out of it." Billy wobbles and sways.

Barb hops out of her car. She takes Billy's arm to support him. "Oh man! You're in rough shape. So much for a sober stag."

"Don't drink anymore." Billy almost topples to the ground.

Barb manages to keep him upright. "Sure. Sure."

Billy holds on to her. "You're a good friend." He hugs her. "My best friend."

She taps his nose. "And you are my best friend too. And I..." A tear rolls down Barb's blue eye. She asks in a quivering voice, "Are you really?" She looks up into his eyes. Her desire overflows. She lays a passionate kiss on the Head Pro's lips, pressing her promising supple body up close to him. Barb ensures that her aroused parts are well positioned, knowing the effect it would have on the swelling shaft. And knowing the way Billy is returning her take-me kiss, he's uncertain about getting hitched.

NINE

The next morning Susan works alone in the Golden Grill. A contingent of scum crawl into her place, led by Officer Rossini and followed by Joey, Rocco, Dick and Eddie with his arm in a sling. Shifty eyes scan the room before Joey flashes the signal.

"Susan Clark, I've gotta warrant to search your business," pronounces Officer Rossini.

"Do your job," Joey encourages? "Who knows what kinda stuff goes on here?"

Officer Rossini marches over to a set of drawers along one wall. He begins rummaging through them. He hurtles the contents to the floor.

Susan turns to Joey. "What is the meaning of this? What kind of dirty tricks are you up to?"

Joey pounds the counter like a jackhammer. A Golden Eagle coffee cup crashes to the floor, driving that count to five. "Letting the cops do their job."

Rocco sticks out a forceful chin. "As head of this here security, wanna squeaky clean joint."

Officer Rossini continues to rifle through cupboards. "What'd we have here?" He holds up a bag of marijuana.

"That was planted there!" Susan points her innocent finger at Joey. "You are behind this!"

Officer Rossini whips out his gun. "Susan Clark, you're under arrest for possession of marijuana."

"Take the bitch away," Dick chimes in. "She's probably selling the stuff."

Officer Rossini rams a shaking Susan against the wall. He commences to fasten handcuffs on her like he's wrestling a wild animal.

She looks over her shoulder at Joey. "You jerk!"

The back door of the Golden Grill busts open. An FBI agent dressed in a dark blue suit races through with gun drawn. At the same time two FBI boys, similarly dressed and armed enter through the front of the Golden Grill.

"FBI! Drop it Rossini!" Agent Finder yells. "The rest of you bums get your hands up"

"We's done nothing," pleads Joey.

Agent Finder snatches the gun from Officer Rossini. He removes the handcuffs off Susan.

"What?" A confused Officer Rossini mumbles.

Agent Finder hurls him against the refrigerator, frisks him and slaps a set of fancy FBI handcuffs on him. "Rossini, you are under arrest for accepting bribes." Officer Rossini looks to a stunned Joey for help while his rights are read to him.

Another burly FBI agent claps Rocco on the shoulder. "Rocco Corsini, you are under arrest for planting evidence, and bribery of a law enforcement official." Rocco's shoved up against the wall. That unfortunate wall takes a beating when big Rocco strikes it. Will it ever be straight again? The FBI Agent then frisks Rocco, cuffs him, and reads him his rights.

"Tell 'em nothing Rocco," Joey commands. "We's gonna have you out soon."

The big lug scowls at his brother. "Probably set this up. So Hammer gets my wife all to himself."

A dumbfounded Joey shrinks, speechless for once. An awkward silence takes place as everyone in the room is caught off guard. Dick squirms into the corner. Eddie nudges toward the door. Susan continues to tremble with fear. Although, her heart does go out to Rocco. As by the guilty look on Joey's face, the big man now knows the bitter truth.

Agent Finder stares at Eddie, and then Joey. He breaks the silence. "You two bums aren't off the hook yet."

"Got nothing on us guys," Joey says.

"Oh you wait." Agent Finder holds up another set of fancy handcuffs. "I'll be back. But the charges will be much more severe the next time."

Rocco and Officer Rossini are not-so-gently hauled away. Joey and Eddie follow after them. Dick slips out the side door. A sizeable puddle remains where he'd been quivering.

Susan and Agent Finder stand alone in the Golden Grill. "Don't worry Susan. We'll nail Chuck's killer." Agent Finder places a protective arm around her.

Susan sighs with relief. She hugs Agent Finder. "Thank you, big brother!"

A bleak Barb wishes she had a big brother to lean on right now. She feels so alone. She feels so hopeless. The morning of Billy's wedding as she sits sad-faced in her apartment. Her head in her hands, suit cases packed, and she contemplates her future. She reflects on the awkward parting between Billy and her. Oh, if only things could have worked out differently? She got her big career break. She got her top thirty prize money. But Barb thinks how she missed on the Billy prize.

A defeated Barb picks up the phone receiver, and dials Oakland. "Daddy. I'm coming home, leaving right now." She opens up the tear floodgates. "Time for me to leave Palm Springs. And never come back."

Later that morning, one chump who wishes he could run away, slouches like a double crossing tool in front of a Palm Springs jail cell. Joey looks down, hangs his head, and scratches his balls with nervous fingers. That pleasure for Joey halts immediately, when a prisoner whistles and begs Hammer to let him satisfy his itchy ball disorder.

An uncomfortable Dick hovers two steps behind Joey, shaking like a guilty leaf. He's dressed to the nines in his flower print shirt, eye-catching striped pants, and set off by his bright coloured shoes, belt and handkerchief. Let's just say, Dick turns a few of the horny jailbird heads who mambo that way.

Rocco peers at Joey's marriage-wrecking face. "Why?"

Joey shifts from one foot to the other. "Oh come on Rocco. You know what that dame's like."

"What's she like?"

"Well, big guy. You know. She's what we's called many broads that worked for us." Joey gulps. "A tramp."

Rocco hurls a tin tray at the jail bars. He storms to those bars. "Fucking scumbag!" Rocco levels his huge finger at Dick. "And do ya think she's a tramp?"

No surprise, Dick's pants just became soaked. That's the second pair ruined this morning. The prisoners in neighbouring cells laugh at the flashy dressed coward. Although, a few of the lonelier fellows continue to admire the little dandy. "I, I know nothing."

"Dick, did you ever screw my wife?"

"Oh my God!" Joey slaps his forehead. "Rocco, you can't be that stupid."

"Yeah! Guess so." Rocco admits. "Sorry Dick."

Joey deepens his voice as he musters up his confidence, "Look Rocco. Just a trashy dame. Gotta put it behind us. Move on."

Rocco grips and rattles the jail bars multiple times. Dick and Joey stumble back in terror. For they feel the bars are about to fall, and if so, Joey feels his death is imminent.

Rocco roars. "Go enjoy the wedding. Go enjoy my wife you pig." The bars bend when Rocco repeats the exercise. But luckily for Joey, they don't break. "I'm gonna get out!" The bars weather one more rough ride from Rocco. "Better hide your ass. Cause yous gonna die!"

The front of Joey's pant's become wet this time. "But, but..."

"Shut the fuck up!" Rocco attempts to grasp Joey through the jail bars. Fortunately for Hammer, Rocco can't reach him. "And I'm gonna win back my wife. Cause I still love that tramp."

Three loud bangs ring out as one selfish chump, who attempts to win something, pounds on Billy's door. Billy dresses for the big day as he hears the thundering noise. He fidgets with the cummerbund of his tuxedo as he scurries to the door. He wrenches it open. In front of him, six eyes shoot death rays.

"Billy," says Eddie in a slow deliberate manner.

Killer growls and snaps his ugly sharp teeth. He hovers at his Master's side.

One step behind Eddie stands Bubba, that monstrosity of a man. He snarls exactly like the canine with his crooked hideous teeth. First time the giant opened his mouth, and it's clear. We now know the Bubba loves his Coke as much as Killer. Eddie needs to put a band on soda, and provide a comprehensive dental plan for man and beast.

"Billy, I am going to make you an offer you cannot refuse," Eddie threatens. "And I mean you cannot!" Bubba grunts and cracks his knuckles.

Billy strives to slam the door. But the dentally-challenged Gorilla blocks the effort.

Eddie steps into the room with a confident swagger. "Cause I am a generous man." He pulls out an envelope and tosses it on the table. "A few dollars to tide you over. My associate here will escort you out of town. And do not come back, or..."

"Or you'll kill him!" Timmy steps out of the washroom dressed in a tux, for he is Billy's best man.

Killer yelps at seeing Timmy, urinates on the carpet and races out of the house. Too bad Dick's leg isn't there to console the frightened dog. Bubba doesn't yelp, but begins to flee as well. He thinks better of it when Eddie gives him the I'm-your-boss look.

Even with that arm still in a sling, Timmy moves lightening fast. He appears at Eddie's side in a blink of an eye. Smoothly, he slips the gun from Eddie's suit coat, popping it in his own. He then sticks out his hand to Bubba. The uncertain Bubba hesitates for a moment. His entire body twitches in terror. He reaches in to his coat with shaking fingers and hands Timmy his gun. Timmy points to the door. Bubba hangs his head and departs.

Eddie shouts back at his retreating employee, "You're fired!"

"No, you're not," Timmy says. "You're a good man, working for a weasel! But get your teeth fixed. Bill it to your Boss."

The showdown between the two sling wearers commences. Timmy grabs a struggling Eddie, and throws him down on the sofa. "Okay Slick! We're gonna have a chat. Except, you're not going to open your mouth."

Eddie shouts, "You're fired from Golden Eagle!" Although, there's massive amounts of panic in his voice. For he still hasn't found any Godfather manual that tells him how to deal with this White Knight monster.

Timmy leans over and applies paralyzing pressure to Eddie's neck. The Crime Boss turns white. "Are you going to spew out any more trash?"

A wilting Eddie shakes his head. Timmy lets him go. Eddie slumps back into the sofa.

"Now that we understand each other. You aren't firing me or anyone else. Got it!"

Eddie nods.

"You're never going to harass Billy again. Got it!"

Eddie nods again as he's learning how to survive in this White Knight's game, even without any help from a Godfather manual.

"And finally, since you are such a weasel, and will renege on everything we agree to here today." Timmy grips Eddie by the tie, choking the Mob Boss. "My Society carried out an underground investigation into the tragic death of Joey's wife a number of years ago. So as long as I'm at Golden Eagle, you're going to behave."

Eddie begins to choke for another reason.

Timmy whispers, "Cause I know."

TEN

One hour before his daughter's wedding Joey hangs in his office, drink in hand. He reflects on his deceased wife. How she would have loved to see Rosa's wedding? How he wishes she were here? He smiles as he recalls what a caring and giving person she was. But she did give him a hard time about his selfishness.

He enjoys a sip of the whiskey, and ponders if he is selfish? "Guess Rocco thinks I'm selfish," he says to himself.

That visit to the jail this morning rattled Joey. Just the thought of it sets his uncontrollable hands to jerk like jitterbugs. He inhales the entire glass, and his pondering is complete. He smacks his desk. Joey decides he may not be the best brother right now. "But I'm not selfish," declares Hammer. Maybe that jail visit to Rocco didn't rattle Joey enough?

Complements of Candy, a black eye wearing Sophia slinks and shimmies into his office. She poses like an almost-pretty, soiled dove for her new man, planting herself in a chair, crossing her long luscious legs. She lights up, and pours herself a stiff drink.

Joey pours himself another shot, letting out an exhausting breath. "Real tough visit to that there jail."

"Are we ready to give away the bride?"

"Sophia, don't you wanna know about Rocco?"

"Done with the loser! What a relief!" She fans herself. "His gas was killing me."

"Speaking of killing me! He knows about us."

She blows a smoke ring. "Who gives a fuck?"

"I sure does. Cause he wants me bagged and tagged."

"Whatever?" The thin lipped Sophia sneers. "He'll get over it. He's become such a weak sap."

"Think my brother's serious."

"Leave the goof in the slammer for a while. He'll cool down." She stands, twirls and rotates her hips with her usual erotic flare. "How'd you like it?" She had a slutty sequin dress flown in from New York for the special occasion.

Joey shrugs. "Fine."

"What the fuck! Fine!" A peeved Sophia hisses. "Or do you only like me naked and spread like last night?"

"Oh Sophia! Don't be so..."

"Don't oh Sophia me! I'm your woman now. I expect to be treated like a Queen."

Joey chokes as he was enjoying a shot of whiskey, when he heard Sophia's declaration.

She carries on with the pronouncement. "This wedding's the perfect occasion to let the world know that I'm the official Queen of Golden Eagle."

"You gotta be kidding!"

"Time to put me on the throne."

"Basta, basta."

"I'll be like the fill-in mother of the bride." She puts her nose in the air. "And I'm sure as hell a huge upgrade."

Joey rises and boils over. "Shut your mouth! Never match Rosa's momma!"

"Your dead wife was a bimbo!"

"My dead wife's an Angel. Not a tramp like you!" Hammer shakes his fist at her. "So fuck you!" He fires his whiskey glass against the wall. "And as far as us, we's finished!"

Not to be out done, Sophia screams, "And fuck you too." She rifles her glass against the same wall. Golden Eagle whiskey smash count now runs at seven. Should the club consider switching to plastic whiskey glasses? She hikes her dress, no panties on. "You're gonna miss this pussy."

"Scratches too much."

The red hot volcano removes her shoe. She makes a perfect throw, nailing Joey square in the nose. Yes, immediately before the throw, she was chomping at breakneck speed on her wad of Spearmint gum. "And Joey, you scratch your balls too much for my liking."

Hammer massages his smarting nose. "Good old Hot Legs! An expert on men's balls."

"You Prick!" She flings her cigarette at Joey, missing his eye by a fraction.

"Crazy broad!"

"I've had it with you small or crooked dick Corsini brothers."

Joey points to the door. "Get out a here!"

Sophia picks up the bottle of whiskey. She throws it, breaking an office window. "I'm declaring war between the Romano and Corsini families. And everyone's fair game. Especially, your Princess Rosa!"Sophia spits on Joey. "This is one battle you'll never win."

One half hour before Billy and Rosa's wedding, Maria poses primed and loaded for a battle of her own. Her noble battle is based on undying love. The crowd gathers on the church's front lawn, and this setting will be where she makes her stand. A determined Maria marches up to Timmy with Mr. Howard Mortimer one step behind. The not so sweet waitress kicks Timmy in the shin.

"What's that for?" Timmy asks.

"I love you," declares Maria. "But there'll be more pain if you don't hear me out. Mr. Mortimer wishes to do a fighting movie. He wants to make you the star."

Shock fills Timmy's face. "But Maria."

Maria kicks him in the shin again. "No excuses. You're doing this movie."

Timmy turns to Mr. Mortimer. "Is this true?"

"Most definitely," Howard replies. "And I will require you in Hollywood this week."

"But my job here!"

Maria giggles. "Billy's given you leave."

"But my face!"

"You're first appointment is with a renowned surgeon who can help," informs Howard. "But some scars are permanent. And that is exactly how I want our new star. So what do you say Timothy?"

"Yes! A thousand times yes! Thank you Mr. Mortimer." Timmy picks up Maria and twirls her in the air. "I love you! Will you come with me to Hollywood?"

It is unite at the altar time. Will this wedding be a happy Hollywood ending? Sweat pours off the groom's trembling brow as he stands at the front of the church. The organ sounds. The crowd stands. The enchanting Rosa begins the walk of love and life down that long aisle. Billy looks back, realizing he's the luckiest fella in the world. He inhales the glowing beauty approaching him. Wow! What a wonderful kind-hearted lady who takes his breath away! And will for everyday for the rest of his life. But he wonders what the hell happened last night?

The next minutes fly as the ceremony unfolds. We come to that pivotal moment in a wedding, where the congregation's asked if anyone has any reason why this marriage shouldn't proceed. The usual awkward silence should take place, not at this wedding.

Three high-octane folks stand erect shouting for their turn to share a life altering story. The Priest allows the father of the bride to go first.

"Billy's a drunken bum!" Joey shakes his father-of-the-bride fist at the groom. "Last night, he's wasted. And after telling my Rosa, he wasn't gonna drink no more. Drunk as a skunk! Thanks to our good friend Dick, we's got this picture." Joey holds up an incriminating photograph for the congregation.

"Oh shut up Joey!" Barb yells. "This marriage shouldn't take place cause Billy and I are in love."

The crowd gasps. "Yes, after last night's wild passionate sex between us. It's so obvious. We belong together." She's so glad her Dad talked her into staying and fighting for what she desires.

"Oh pipe down you bitch," screams Sophia. "Billy and Rosa shouldn't get married. Cause he knocked me up."

A gigantic group gasp floods the church. The alcohol breath Father Murphy sits down and fans himself. The organist faints. Billy's mouth hangs open. Thank goodness Rocco still sits in jail, or Billy would be running right now. But does Rocco really care about his tramp wife anymore? Or does he just want to cause and attend his backstabbing brother's funeral?

Are there any others in the crowd who are glad Sophia fingered Billy and not them? Dick wipes his brow. Joey also wipes his brow. In fact he has been wiping his backstabbing brow ever since his visit to the jail. Who else is wiping the brow of guilt?

Sophia slides into a fake tear routine which deserves an Academy Award. Is film-maker Howard watching? She blubbers out further accusations, "The scum filled me with booze. Seduced me in the back room of the Pro Shop."

Rosa attempts to catch her breath. It stabs like a wedding-cake-cutting knife hearing the Pro Shop back room was not just their special sex spot. She wonders how many other lessons has Billy given back there? Rosa covers her hand with her mouth. She races into the back room of the church. The bewildered and humiliated almost-bride locks the door with tears flowing, ready to head to the convent in Italy.

The congregation stares in stunned silence. All endeavour to digest what just transpired. Only Dick with a new pair of dry pants smiles the smile of a soon to be Head Pro. Finally he thinks, the deck's stacked too high against bungling Billy.

Joey rages, throws a Bible at Billy and misses, but nails Father Murphy. Hammer advances towards the Groom. "I'll kill you!" Joey whips out his gun, points it at Billy. Timmy steps to Joey's side. He stops the Father of the Bride from ruining Billy's rented tux. Is this the last time the White Knight will be around to perform his life-saving deeds for his friends?

One hour later a somber Billy and Rosa walk out of the church. They're not arm-in-arm. No smiles on this couple. They march directly to the wedding car. They enter with Rosa sitting as far away from Billy as possible. A cold front has moved into Billy's life. Will it ever end?

"I'm keeping my name," Rosa announces. "Do you want to know why I went threw with the wedding?"

"Yes."

"Being married to you, even though you're a disgusting pig, gives me greater control of Golden Eagle." Rosa wags a newly wed finger at Billy. "And if you can keep your roving hands off that wench Barb, and that trashy Sophia for a minute, and get me pregnant." She leans over and slaps Billy hard across the face. "Having a child with you will solidify that control. I aim to be Head of the Club."

Billy's mouth falls open as he realizes how ambitious this Catholic girl is. "I do love you Rosa."

"Screw you!" She grasps her cross. "I'm sure glad I called Uncle Vinnie before his unfortunate death. And insisted that your name wasn't listed in his Will."

Billy shrugs his shoulders. "Don't care about that."

"Heres something you should care about Billy Parks. I now have a ball and chain on you that you'll never get out of."

Billy goes to speak. Rosa cuts him off, "And if you ever think of escaping this prison sentence." She pulls a tiny Derringer out of her purse and points the gun at his crotch.

"Rosa! Careful with that!"

"I'm a crack shot. And I'll start with your shaft." She then points the gun right between his eyes. "Then I'll finish you off right between your cheating baby blues."

PART III - WHO IS DRIVING WHO

ONE

"I fucked up," a despondent Barb Bond says as she sits on a stool in the Golden Grill. She hangs her head in shame. She slouches across from Susan who levels a stern look at her friend.

"Yes, Barb," affirms Susan as she wipes the counter with professional pride. "Declaring your love for Billy at his wedding certainly got everyones attention."

Barb moans. "Especially his bride to be, some innocent Catholic girl."

The good natured Susan pours the Golf Pro a cup of coffee and sighs in exhaustion. "Naturally, Rosa was upset. Can you blame her?"

"No! If looks could kill, I'd be dead a hundred times over. But then came the real storm."

Susan shutters. "She was scary! I'll admit, Rosa didn't sound innocent when she took a strip off Billy at their wedding ceremony. Then throwing that cross at you. Then firing the bible at you, then soaking you in sacramental wine, and finally the stream of swearing and death threats."

"Did she learn that language at Catholic school?"

"Probably did Barb. But acquired that feisty streak from Joey."

"The way she slapped Billy's face and kicked him in the shin. Oh but the wildest Susan, was when she kneed him right between the legs. And all right after he placed the ring on her finger. Poor Billy, the way he hobbled down the aisle."

"I will never forget!" Susan covers her eyes. "And when she threatened Sophia with that sizeable candlestick holder, setting the Queen to running."

"With Sophia ripping that hooker dress wide open fleeing for her life." The ladies enjoy a long cleansing laugh, wiping away tears and deep felt sadness.

"Look Barb, when Billy and Rosa come back from their honeymoon, let's sit down and talk. Clear the air."

"No damn way! I'm leaving."

"Please don't. There were a lot of weird things going on. Let's sort it out. Then well, maybe, if you still want to go. But you and Billy are good friends. Please don't run."

Barb ponders her week. She went from the greatest single moment in her life, placing top thirty at the 1960 LPGA Micky Write Invitational; to the worst moment of her life. Her embarrassing pronouncement of her love for Billy. And to make that revealing pronouncement at Billy and Rosa's wedding ceremony. Informing everyone in the Catholic Church of her and Billy's passionate steamy sex session the night before the wedding. She blushes and fans herself as she recalls the mind altering, acrobatic act.

Barb thinks about Dick, her new boss, that scheming, slippery and small statured weasel. Finally, Dick fulfilled his life long Head Pro dream. And Barb's stomach churns each time her new boss orders her about in his abusive manner. Ensuring she knows Joey and himself are in complete control of the Golden Eagle ship.

That Joey and Dick tag team have unravelled some pretty low down plans. One of the results of those plans was Billy being demoted as Head Pro right after the wedding ceremony. This paved the way for the immediate appointment of Dick as Head Pro by his pal Joey. Strongly backed up by Rosa, in front of her already humiliated husband.

Upon the demotion news, a humbled Billy and a raging Rosa dashed off to Italy for their honeymoon. Nothing like being knocked down a rung on the ladder before attempting to heat up the honeymoon bed. Will that cool Billy's pride and joy penis he calls the shaft? Or will that shaft fight threw the bad lies Billy's been getting?

Susan takes Barb's hand. "But I have to ask. Do you actually love Billy?"

Tears glimmer in Barb's eyes. "Not a fucking chance!"

Ten minutes later a vibrant Dick Short struts into the Golden Grill wearing a newly tailored golf outfit overflowing with sizzle and sparkle. He picks his nose and cackles. "Look what the cat dragged in?" He removes his finger, poking Barb in the arm. "Miss loser Bond!"

"Yuk! Gross!" Barb scrambles backward. She grabs a napkin, wiping her arm. "You swine!"

"Hey, Miss Bottom Feeder! Better watch how you talk to your big Boss," threatens Dick. "Get down on your knees and beg forgiveness."

"Piss off Dick!"

"Joey says getting down on your knees is all your good for." Dick chortles. Continually, he reminds Barb of her kinky-sex fling with Joey, and how Hammer screwed her over on his promise.

"Back off Dick!" Susan warns. "And please go wash your hands."

"Go to hell!" He puts his recently cleaned out nose in the air. "I'm the Head Pro. You'll start treating me with the respect I deserve." Dick lets out another creepy chortle. He hammers the counter, making the two ladies jump, starting his fist massage routine. Been a while since Dick hammered down. Guess he figures being Head Pro now, makes him tougher.

Barb groans as she sizes up Dick. "Oh God! Where did you steal that get up?"

"Pretty snazzy new threads!" He pulls a prissy pose for the ladies. "And Miss Barb the almost-wedding breakup Queen, you should see the brand new 1960 yellow VW Beetle I picked up as a present to myself for becoming Head Pro."

"Saw that cute little sissy car." Barb pulls Dick's multi-coloured hat over his eyes. "Perfect powderpuff car for you."

"You're just jealous!" Dick fumbles about as he straightens his hat, and stomps his foot. "Enough!" He attempts to deepen his voice. But his voice sounds like cats claws screeching on a chalkboard. "You bitches need to be whipped into line."

Barb pretends to snap a whip. "Crack! Bet you know all about that game."

He blushes, shaking his smarting fist at Barb. This hits close to home. For he rather enjoys those master-slave whip and bind sexual experiences. "You bitch!"

"Please don't use that awful word around me," requests Susan. "Why must you call women that?"

"Cause I hate all of you," he spits out. "Even you, Miss Goody-Goody."

"Relax Dick," Susan says.

"Won't relax until I destroy you two bitches." He sniggers. "Oh, sorry Susan. That bothers you." A knee slap and a lengthy stint of obnoxious laughter sounds from the Head Pro.

Barb kicks him in the shin. "Show some class!"

"Ouch!" Dick rubs his aching shin.

"Say it again, and you won't be walking for a week," cautions Barb.

Mr. Short sticks out his tongue at the Barracuda. "Now its time to get down to business." He stands on his tiptoes. "You're fired!" He flashes a malicious grin. "I love those words. Let me say it again. You — are — fired!"

Susan wags a school teacher like finger at him. "You can't fire Barb! You don't have that authority."

Joey storms into the coffee shop. "But I do!"

Susan puts her hands on her hips. "Are you sure about that?"

Joey throws a chair across the room. "Damn right I do. I runs this joint. I gonna lower the boom on Barb the barracuda."

Barb clenches her fist. Her leg twitches. Is she about to kick or punch Hammer? Will she nail him in his crooked shaft? Instead, she sticks out her tongue, rubbing her crotch, mimicking Joey.

"Sorry gentlemen," Susan digs in utilizing a firm tone, "this must go to a vote at the upcoming Board meeting. Since Barb is not just a Golf Pro, but one with a special status, due to her excellent showing at the Micky Write Invitational. Most press this club has ever had."

"Fuck that!" Joey kicks another chair. "Her and Billy will be gone." He then reaches down and begins his habit of scratching his crotch. Did Barb's parroting gesture get him started?

Dick cheers on Joey, "You tell 'em Boss!"

"Too bad. Have to wait until we meet as a Board and vote," Susan looks down at the scratch fest Joey enjoys. "And itchy fingers, keep your hands busy with this." She hands him a cup of coffee.

Joey shuffles his feet in embarrassment and mutters, "Don't need no fucking Board."

"No decision on staff until the Board meets Joseph," pronounces Susan. "I'm sure Eddie will agree."

Susan isn't sure Eddie Corsini will agree, But worth playing the bluff. For she will squeeze every ounce of power she can out of her daughter, Virginia's, 20% of Golden Eagle stock in trust. The good-hearted Susan hopes she can protect Barb, although, she's not sure how much.

Joey throws his cup at the wall, taking the cup smash count to six. It draws Barb a little closer to Billy who has seven glasses broken and leads in the Pebble Beach bet.

Except, Joey doesn't care about that bet, he just hates his cousin Eddie, who now owns 20% of the club just like himself. And since Eddie took over as the Corsini Godfather, he's rode Joey hard. The mention of that pompous jerk makes Hammer back off the firing right at this moment.

"Won't matter. Barracuda!" Joey slaps Barb on her pear shaped ass. "Time we's get to the Board meeting, we's be throwing you and boozing Billy out the door."

"You tell 'em Boss!" Dick, the King of sucking up says.

The athletic Barb returns the insult by delivering two firm smacks to Joey's well shaped ass, making him jump and flush. "Oh, by the way, Hammer, Golf Digest wants to do a big article about me next month. Better make up your mind soon if you want me." She slaps Joey on the ass again. "Cause you certainly wanted me when I was spreading my legs for your crooked salami."

TWO

Billy Parks and Rosa Corsini sit one hour from touchdown at San Francisco International Airport. The first two weeks of their honeymoon in Italy overflowed with tension. For the third week, they're renting a car, driving over to Napa Valley, and then making their way back to Palm Springs. Billy hopes the change of scenery will melt Rosa somewhat.

Billy confessed all one evening in Rome. From the one night with Sophia in the back room of the Pro Shop, to his sober stag gone bad, resulting in his blacking out and having passionate sex with Barb. But it is sex that he can't seem to recall. The spill-the guts story didn't thaw Rosa by even one degree. In fact, it even got colder.

Except, in the bedroom, she ran insatiable. Between the sheets, she screamed for more, sucked Billy dry, spread at will, scratched, spanked and slapped in ecstasy. All while never smiling the soothing smile of sexual satisfaction. But demanded more dirty delights from her husband.

Billy appears exhausted. That won't stop the former babe hound. He wonders if he can ever satisfy this passionate twenty-one year old wildcat? One more week of honeymoon, and he ponders if the raunchy Rosary-wearing Rosa will break his withering shaft?

A hostile Rosa turns to Billy, levelling a frosty look. "Hope you've planted your seed in me." For if Billy can provide stud service and produce a Bambino, Rosa acquires the final 10% of Golden Eagle shares available to her. That final 10% would bring her portion to 40%. Thus, solidifying her as the largest shareholder in Golden Eagle, allowing Billy's sperm to assist her in fulfilling her ambitious goal of being Head of the Club.

"Hope so as well." Billy attempts to hold her hand.

She whacks his wrist. "And then I won't have to touch you again."

Billy chuckles to himself. He wonders how she'll satisfy her endless appetite for cock she acquired recently? Although, he knows there would be a line up of volunteers, if he is cut off by the curvaceous spicy beauty. "Oh Rosa, can we ever move on?" He peers around to see if anyone watches. He slides his hand under the blanket Rosa holds on her lap. He slips his expert fingers under her skirt, slithering smooth as sneaky silk under her pink panties. He zeros in on her glory zone.

Rosa glares at him with hatred. "Never! You pig." She raises her hand to slap Billy. "And that tramp Barb better be gone by the time we get there next week. Or I'll be lining up to have her whacked." Clearly, she was listening when Joey flings around the whack word. She whimpers. Her cheeks acquire a touch of colour. She lowers her hand in defeat.

Billy grins and whispers in her ear, "Your pussy never lies." He continues to loosen up his reluctant wife as her temperature trends upward. Her thighs ease apart and her eyes dilate.

"No, Billy!" She grips her arm rest, and turns her face away.

"Oh, Rosa." Billy purrs like a trouble seeking tomcat. "Let's just relax and enjoy the last few minutes of the flight." His magician-like fingers manipulate and massage, probing with a gentle g-spot touch, feeling the growing warmth and wetness.

Rosa sucks in a weakening breath and whispers, "Oh Billy! Stop! Stop!" She bites her lower lip determined to resist, shaking her head in defiance. "Stop you jerk!" But then she peers over at his bulging pants, and begins to lick her lips like a starving animal who has just seen food.

Billy smirks in his knotty boy manner. He witnesses her passion meter shoot skyward. She purses her lips, arches her back, widens her lust-filled eyes even further in excited anticipation. She gives Billy that inviting finger-me-faster expression and mutters, "Ooh! Ooh!" She grits her teeth, throws her head back, shutters, shrieks and releases her love juices!

A passing Stewardess delivers a knowing wink on her way by. Billy returns the wink along with a proud-as-punch smile.

An embarrassed Rosa slumps back in her seat. She turns toward her beaming husband. "I hate you!"

A hate-filled Sophia and her three humongous Romano brothers storm into the pristine front entrance of Golden Eagle. They wear grim faces and all fists are clinched. Waiting sombrely in that entrance ready to greet the hostile looking group, stand the handsome Eddie Corsini, his coke-lapping, black-toothed Rottweiler, Killer, and his equally rotten-toothed body guard, Bubba. This is shaping up as the showdown at the GE Corral.

Eddie, still wearing his arm in a sling, wrinkles his nose at the barnyard like body odour radiating from the three brothers. "That's far enough!"

Sophia and her muscle-bound rank-odour brothers halt. "We're here to serve important papers to the Corsini scum." She slaps an official looking envelope in Eddie's hand. "These are divorce papers for Rocco."

The former Head of Entertainment at Golden Eagle has had it with the Corsini family. She joined forces with her three bottom feeding brothers who own the Rancho Mirage Golf Club. She feels with her heavy handed leadership, she can volt the family to a new Mob level. But will the three stooges welcome their pushy sister?

For the Romano brothers not only run a sizeable portion of the drug trade in the Coachella Valley. But they've muscled in on many other illegal activities, that they got their unwashed and blood-stained hands on. They're shy when it comes to utilizing a bathtub or shower. Can we put it down to the boys wanting to conserve precious water in the dry California desert? Or are they just filthy pigs?

Right then, Dick and Barb walk down the hallway. They step in behind Eddie and his pack of meanness. Eddie sneers at the sight of Barb and Dick joining the discussion. As does Sophia, who spits at Miss Bond. Barb winks back at her.

Eddie looks down. He shuffles his feet and mumbles, "I'll take care of these." He shoves the divorce papers in his briefcase.

Sophia's youngest brother, Johnny Romano, drools and leers at Barb. He leaves no doubt of where his lust meter stands in regard to the well-shaped Golf Pro. Barb keys in on Johnny's desire as her eyes water from the farmyard like fragrance. She coughs and hacks. She grasps a bottle of Chanel No. 5 from her purse. She sprays the front entrance, ensuring each brother receives a perfume shower.

"Smells real nice!" Johnny smiles showing off his four missing teeth.

The smell challenged Sophia sniffs the air. "What are you talking about? Don't smell anything."

"I believe you've lost your sense of smell Jersey girl," Eddie teases. "Who knows how many others have nose issues around here?" He smirks as he looks over at Dick.

A cowering Dick shuffles, wanting to flee. "Yeah, that Billy's got quite the trunk." Dick sniffs the air. "But mine works good."

"Mine too," says Johnny as he continues to drool over Barb. "And Barb, you sure smell pretty."

"Get your mind back on business little brother. You're such a player!" Sophia elbows Johnny in the ribs as the other two brothers let out their golly gee chuckles.

"Such a Playboy!" Barb says with a sarcastic tone as her stomach does backflips from being this close to all three turnoff tooth-missing thugs.

Sophia holds up another set of documents. "And these launch a lawsuit against Golden Eagle Golf and Tennis Club. They result from Candy Spooner's attack on myself, and the extensive emotional and physical damages I suffered." She shoves the documents into Eddie's hand.

Eddie rolls his disgusted eyes. "Is that it?"

"We'll also clean out my office." Sophia and her brothers move to step around Eddie's Golden Eagle gang.

Eddie places himself in front of the trouble-seeking group. "Don't think so."

Killer delivers a low growl.

"Boys!" Sophia, the former stripper named Hot Legs, chuckles as if she's got this showdown in the bag. "You know what to do." The three Romano brothers flex their muscles and showoff their goofy grins.

Barb wedges into the conflict circle. "I can avoid a lot of unnecessary pain. At Joey's request, I cleaned out Sophia's office. All personal items were shipped over to the Rancho Mirage Club."

"Can't trust this bitch!" Sophia elevates her malfunctioning nose in the air. "Going to see for myself." Hot Legs takes a long stride. Killer snaps at her. She jumps back. "Boys, take care of this fucking dog!"

"Not worth it," says Carlo Romano.

"You cowards!" Sophia screams at her brothers. She fumes, fuse almost goes off. She grinds her teeth. She spies a smirking Joey and a beaming Candy down the hallway stepping out of Hammer's office. That triggers a Hot Legs explosion. Sophia grasps a glass vase off an end table. The red head fires the vase at the wall, sending it into thousands of pieces.

"Don't worry." Johnny Romano sighs with sibling disgust. "We's paying for that one."

"What yous guys doing?" Asks Joey as he approaches the group. He walks like he's got a hammer up his ass, scratching his balls, and struggling to do up his zipper. Man, that guys zipper is down a lot in public.

Eddie shakes is head with revulsion. "And what have you been doing?"

"Interviewing Candy," replies Joey. "Head of Entertainment. Very skilled gal."

"Fucking slut!" Sophia hisses and cringes. For she did enjoy that role, Queen of Golden Eagle. She regrets Joey and her having that mega fight before Rosa's wedding. Sophia hopes she's moved on to bigger things, if only her goofball brothers would get in line.

Candy wipes some of Joey's creamy-like deposit off her lips. "Hammer conducts an in-depth interview." She thrusts out her perky breasts and giggles. "I think I did rather well."

Joey cackles. "Sure did Honey." He pats her on the bum. "Best the Hammer's ever had. I mean, ever interviewed."

"I was the best you ever had!" Sophia takes an aggressive step towards Joey with fists ready to strike.

Johnny inhibits her progress. "Another time Sis."

Joey cocks his head. "Not even top ten."

"I'll kill you!" Sophia endeavours to break free. Johnny's grip on her holds firm. She continues to snipe, "Your crooked cock couldn't satisfy me! Couldn't satisfy your dead wife!" She struggles with even more determination. She manages to utilize one of those long-limber legs to deliver an extended-reach kick directly into Joey's itchy crotch. He doubles over in pain. The irate Sophia shrieks, "Try and do an interview now!"

The Romano brothers escort their cursing and struggling sister out the front door. Johnny's last words are, "Be back for the Poker Derby." For word's out, Joey's casino is hosting one of the biggest winner-take-all poker games ever organized on the West coast. Only rich Mob and celebrity types can afford the humongous entry fee.

Sophia manages to make one last statement as she smashes the matching glass vase, leaving the expensive set scattered on the floor.

"Good riddance to Jersey trash!" Eddie then turns to Barb. "Why are you still here?"

"I went to fire her, but..." Dick says.

Joey moans, groans and slowly stands erect. "Damn Susan stopped us guys!"

Eddie points at Barb. "Well, I'm here now. Fire her!"

Barb's eyes twinkle and tease as she touches Eddie on the arm, proceeding to knock his fedora off his head. "Tell baldy about the Golf Digest article."

"Some golf rag gonna do a feature on this piece of trash," explains Joey between short strained breaths.

"And I can talk all sugar and spice about this place." Barb curls a contemptuous lip. "Or I can tell the world what sadistic scum bags you bastards really are. Make your choice."

"Tramp!" Joey shakes his fist at her. But the effort has him wobbling. Candy grips his arm, steadying Joey. For she must support her new ball-bashed man target.

Dick also attempts to support his Boss as he shakes his tiny fist at Barb. The Barracuda grasps his fragile fist and twists. It results in a cry of pain from the Head Pro.

"Such a creep!" She follows up with a pull of Dick's nose bringing the little man to his knees.

Killer snarls at her.

Barb lets Mr. Short's nose go. "Your lover protects his bitch." That canine has been smitten with Dick and his leg from their first meeting, call it puppy love, or puppy lust.

"We's gonna fix you." Joey wants to take a threatening step towards Barb. Except, his legs and testicles feel like lead.

A confident Barb doesn't flinch. She bounces on her toes. "Make your decision quick. Smart men would keep me here at Golden Eagle." She flashes a bright smile, batting her long eyelashes. "Cause Johnny Romano has made me a firm offer." She's not going to tell these thugs that water-adverse Johnny's offer is contingent on some stinky sex favours. "Their Rancho Mirage Club wants me desperately, and the worldwide publicity I'll bring. Besides, do you fools really want me working for your number one competitor with all I know?" She salutes and walks off with a wicked wiggle in her walk, leaving the group speechless.

A concerned Susan sits in a jail cell at the Palm Springs Police Department. She talks to a rather stunned and somber Rocco Corsini. The big fella is under arrest for charges resulting from an FBI sting operation led by Susan's brother, Agent Finder.

Rocco appears haggard! Unshaven, greasy hair, drawn face, dirty ragged clothes and a nasty odour radiates from the giant. He even lost a few pounds due to the crap being served up at the jail. In addition, he supports a nasty slash across his bicep.

Susan touches him on that slash. "Rocco, what happened?"

He passes giant-sized gas. "Sorry," he hangs his head, tapping his injured arm. "Some loser tried to stick me."

"Who?" She coughs, whipping out her perfume, filling the jail cell with the fragrance.

He shrugs one shoulder, rubbing his injured arm. "Was dark."

A prisoner in the neighbouring cell says, "Spray some of that sweetness over here."

"And no more beans for Rocco," another prisoner yells out with laughter sounding from many in the jail block. Rocco flushes, hanging his head a little lower.

"I am having a doctor look at that cut." Susan says with worry in her voice.

"Just a scratch."

"No, it isn't!" Susan begins wiping dried blood from Rocco's bicep. "Has anyone been here to see you from your family?"

"Just my brother before the wedding."

"As I thought." She opens a bag by her side. "I had the guard go through it. I brought you a care package."

The first smile forms on Rocco's face since he's been here. "Thanks."

"You are very welcome!" She fans herself, then spreads the contents on the cot. "All the basics: clothes, razor, toothbrush, mouthwash, etc."

"Why? And after I..."

Susan lays a warm smile on Rocco. "I've always thought you were mistreated by your family. You were too trusting and too loyal. They took advantage of you."

"All of 'em?"

"Yes, all of them except Rosa. I also thought you had much more potential than you or your family believed."

"Really."

"Definitely Rocco! And I even brought you a chessboard."

His face brightens. He leans forward in excitement.

"Yes." The one time Mob-boss girlfriend continues. "And books on chess theory. I remember when you started to sneak to the chess club. I was the only one that knew."

Rocco blushes. "How?"

"Had a friend tell me Rocco? And you were too embarrassed to tell anyone. And you stopped so quickly."

"Yeah! Da family would a just road me if they found out."

"I also heard you had potential." She touches his hand. "Just cause others may think you are stupid, doesn't mean you have to act that way." For Rocco may not have had the language skills, but hidden in the huge brain, there could hide some solid logic capabilities.

Rocco scratches his chin. "But..."

"You need to shed this muscle man, no brains image."

"But Susan."

"Also brought you books on diet, exercise, self confidence, and even an article on eliminating flatulence."

He hangs his head again. "Thanks."

"And it is time to face the fact. Sophia and you are over."

"But, maybe the baby I heard about from Rossini."

"Do you really think the baby she claims she's carrying is yours?"

Rocco ponders for a long moment. "No."

Susan hands a set of documents to Rocco. "Divorce papers from Sophia. She wants to end it quickly. So she is filing them in the State of Nevada."

A tear rolls down the big man's cheek. "No!"

"Yes, but I don't think Eddie had plans to pass the documents on to you. Thank goodness Barb told me. We snatched them out of his briefcase, when he and Bubba were distracted with another horny Killer — nervous Dick episode."

"Wanna try one more time with her"

"She's done with you Rocco. I'm sorry, so, sorry. But you need to move on."

The big man shakes. "Guess so." Rocco begins to cry. "So hard!"

Susan hands him a tissue. "Of course it is. But you need to start over. And putting Sophia in your rearview mirror is the best thing you'll ever do."

He shuts his eyes while he thinks for a minute. "Yeah."

"Rocco, I had my lawyer go over these documents. Straight forward stuff."

"I'm gonna sign?"

"Good decision." She points to multiple spots, hands Rocco a pen. The giant reflects for a moment, sniffles and signs in each spot using a slow deliberate signature. "Done!"

Susan packages up the documents, "That's the best thing you'll ever do."

Rocco blows out a cleansing breath. "Feel better already. She's a snake. But I loved her."

"You sure did!" Susan pats him on the shoulder. "Now it is time to re-invent Rocco Corsini."

He wipes away the last of the tears. "But, but how?"

"I have a few thoughts Rocco. But step one of your fresh start — time for you to make a deal with the FBI."

THREE

One uneasy fellow hoping for a fresh start, sits in front of a stern faced Doctor. That diligent Doc removes bandages from Timmy Raker's face at an antiseptic-smelling private hospital in Beverly Hills. It has been two weeks since the surgery to correct his disfigured mug. Also, the Doc has removed a cast from Timmy's broken arm.

The White Knight received numerous injuries in a brutal late night unsolved attack back at Golden Eagle. All and all, his recovery has been miraculous when one considers the magnitude of those injuries. Now all eyes lock on the want-to-be actor's face as the moment draws nearer. Will Timmy lose some of those hideous scars acquired in the attack? Will he regain some of his handsome facial features? Or will he still refer to himself as a monster?

A nail-biting Maria Rodriguez locates herself near him. Howard Mortimer, the Hollywood producer, hovers in the background, awaiting the face unveiling. The bandages slither to the floor.

Maria shrieks! "Oh my God!"

Howard gasps. "Oh Timothy!"

Maria places the mirror in front of Timmy. "Yes!" He springs to his feet. He shakes the Doctor's hand. "Thank you! Thank you!"

Timmy and Maria embrace. "And thank you for sticking with me." He turns to Howard. "And thank you for making this happen."

Howard basks in Timmy's excitement. "You are very welcome! It has dramatically improved your facial features. However, a bit of scarring remains. Making you the perfect star for our upcoming martial arts movie."

Timmy sighs with relief. "Didn't sleep a wink last night." He pumps his lethal fist. "But now..."

"We commence shooting tomorrow Timothy. So keep studying your lines."

Timmy turns to the bashful Maria. "You turned me down when I asked you to move to Hollywood with me."

Maria shakes her head. "Just can't."

"But..."

She presses her fingers to his lips. "Go and become a mucho star. You'll forget all about me back in Palm Springs."

"Never! Never! I'm so happy when you're near!" Timmy drops to one knee. "Maria, will you marry me?"

The night before the not-so-happily married Rosa and Billy return from their honeymoon, and the night before the first ever Golden Eagle Board meeting, a slippery strategy session unfolds. Eddie, Joey and Dick position themselves around a table at the Golden Eagle Bar.

Killer lies at Eddie's feet with tongue hanging out. He drools as he gives the spiffy-dressed Dick the adoring want-you wide eyed gaze. Killer continues to have puppy dog eyes for Dick. Bubba holds a short leash on the Rottweiler. This to ensure, there will be no more embarrassing incidents in regard to Killer's sexual preferences.

"I have all necessary steps in place to guarantee the Board meeting unfolds exactly as planned," Eddie says in a determined tone. "You two know your roles. I want no mistakes."

Both men nod.

"Glad you understand," continues Eddie. "In addition, we must be thinking about removing certain irritating obstacles."

"Gotta deal with Billy," Joey says. "Now that they's married, the bum would get her shares if anything happens to Rosa." Hammer scratches his lower section in that embarrassing area.

"Yes, you are grasping the idea. But one step at a time with Billy." Eddie slides a pen over to Joey. "Please play with this so I don't have to watch you pleasure yourself. And carry a pen at all times. In order that I never have to witness that horrifying act again."

Joey turns multiple shades of scarlet. He grasps the pen. He begins fidgeting those fingers, making that pen do twirls and backflips.

Eddie savours a sip of his wine. "Barb must be dealt with as well. But once again, one step at a time."

"For sure!" Mr. Short agrees in a weak voice. For Dick will agree with anything Eddie says. He's terrified of the Mob Boss. Dick's wet-his-pants disorder raises its ugly head as a few drops begin dribbling out.

"Both have become a major nuisance!" Eddie brushes his hands together. "We start at the Board meeting. Then we want the job completed."

"So how?" Joey inquires while he continues to put the pen through the paces, resulting in blue ink dripping on his shirt and tie.

The Corsini Godfather shoots Joey a scathing look. "Please! Do not make me spell it out!"

Killer takes his eyes off Dick for a second. He issues bone-chilling growls directed at Hammer.

Joey slides his chair away from the guard dog and his raiser sharp teeth. "Okay! Okay! I see."

"Yes, it may become unpleasant," Eddie informs the table. "We all must do our part." He frowns at Hammer. "And Joey, you can start by changing your shirt and tie."

Joey looks down. "Gees!" He grabs a napkin, attempting to wipe off the ink. It results in a much larger ink stain.

Eddie grumbles. "I am surrounded by fools!"

Dick sinks a little lower in his chair, hoping Eddie doesn't notice him. But unfortunately, the Head of the Corsini family turns to the Head Pro. "Dick, I want to win that Poker Derby. You will play a part in that plan."

"Sure, sure Eddie, anything you need." Dick feels relief. His body relaxes. For that doesn't seem too onerous a task in his mind.

Except, Eddie's intense eyes then bore into Dick, sending the little man to shake again. "And here's what else I need you to do."

One new husband, who knows all about eyes boring into him, is Billy. He drives all night in their rented car. Early the next morning, the strained and stressed couple arrive in Palm Springs following three weeks of honeymooning. They speed straight to Golden Eagle. Rosa heads directly to see her close confidant Susan at the Golden Grill.

"Why's Barb still here?" Rosa asks. "I saw her outside the Pro Shop."

Susan takes the Catholic girl's hand. The two sit down at a corner table. "Not that simple, she's about to do an article for Golf Digest. Having Golden Eagle's name mentioned is a huge plus for the club."

A tired Rosa clinches her fist. "But I told..."

"That decision's for the Board."

"Will you vote with me on tossing her in today's Board meeting?" Rosa inquires.

"We must think what is best for the club." The peace-keeping Susan holds up a calming hand. "I know what happened the night before the wedding was unacceptable. But..."

"But what that tramp did!"

"Rosa, she does want to apologize to you."

"No way!" The hot blooded Italian beauty folds her arms. "Never want to see that backstabbing wench again."

"Please Rosa. Let her apologize. And after that if you still want her gone. She said she will leave."

"Damn! I hate her!" Rosa touches the gold cross hanging from a thick new gold chain Billy purchased for her in Rome. A long silence unfolds. "I'll do this for you. But that's the only reason." She tightens her determined jaw. "But, I'm not changing my mind."

"Thank you! Give me a second." Susan slips out. In a few minutes she returns with a sheepish looking Golf Pro.

Barb stands in front of Rosa, head hung low, shifting from one foot to the other. "Rosa, I, I am so sorry. I was wrong. What I did was unforgivable. I don't blame you for hating me."

Rosa stares off into space. She's as cold as Arctic ice. The seconds seem like an eternity for Miss Bond.

Barb carries on, "Hate me. Don't hate Billy. He was not himself that night. I took advantage of that."

"He was drunk." Rosa huffs. "Lying jerk! And he still swears he didn't."

"He swore he didn't drink that night." Barb sits herself down at the table. A puzzling look envelops her face. "I've seen Billy drunk many times. And he wasn't acting like that."

The owner of the Golden Grill leans forward. "What do you mean?"

Barb taps her chin as she thinks. "Don't know. His eyes, his walk, he was like in another world. But not drunk."

"Not drunk," repeats Rosa.

"And he whispered to me in church that he didn't remember a thing after a certain point the night of the stag." Susan rubs her temples. "And I've never heard Billy say he didn't remember after drinking. Never once." She pauses for a moment. "Aha! Maybe he was..."

"And you know, he kept babbling on about how great it was not drinking," Barb reveals. "He was so happy that him and Dick buried the hatchet. And that Dick even bought him one of those huge fruity non-alcohol drinks."

"So, he remembered up to that point." Susan's face dawns with understanding. "Damn that Dick!" She slaps her forehead. "Now I know for sure, Billy was telling the truth."

"That little prick!" Barb looks at Rosa. "And I know another thing for sure. He loves you, and only you!"

Rosa's mouth curves into a hopeful smile. "Do you truly think?"

Barb takes Rosa's hand. "There's nothing between Billy and I! Absolutely nothing! You my dear, are the love of Billy's life."

"That's for sure," reinforces Susan.

"Rosa, I wanted to get this apology out of the way. Then I'm going to leave Golden Eagle. In spite of what I've told those clowns who want me out." Barb stands and hugs Susan. Then turns to Rosa with sincerity written all over her face. "I'm so sorry." A tear rolls down the Golf Pro's eye. "I'll miss you guys." She turns to leave.

Rosa sucks in a breath. "Stay."

Barb wrings her hands. "Are, are you sure?"

"Yes," Rosa glares at her. "But if you ever screw Billy again." Rosa pops her derringer out of her purse. She points it at Barb with one hand — holds her gleaming cross in the other. "You're a dead lady!"

Billy feels as if he has come back from the dead. He strolls about the Golden Eagle grounds, enjoying the sweet-smelling sculpted greenery. He's home. He feels great! Three weeks away from his piece of paradise, he revels in the tranquil morning. He savours the majestic moment. He realizes how much he loves this crazy club. Billy pauses under his favourite shady tree, which graces him with a scenic view of the first tee box and the eighteenth green.

"Get to work Mr. Schnozzle!" A dapper dressed Dick yells and races towards Billy. "You lazy bastard!" The high pitched voice of the new Head Pro sends the birds in that special tree to squawking.

"Great to see you too, Dick. Far out threads!"

"I'm a trendsetter!" The ego-swelling Dick positions himself directly in front of Billy. He shakes his Head Pro fist. "You call me, Sir. I'm your Boss. You'll treat me with respect." Suddenly, some droppings rocket downward from the sky, missing the spiffy dressed unaware fellow by a fraction.

Billy glances up, noticing the conspiratorial birds puffing up their proud feathers. He smiles at the cheeky chitter circle. "You're certainly my boss. How are things running?"

"Never mind! You need to get to work. You Golf Pros are so useless." Dick will not admit what a disaster the last three weeks have been without Billy. But he's the Head Pro, and that's all that matters. Therefore, Mr. Short begins digging for gold.

Billy looks away in disgust. "I will. But promise me one thing. Please stop picking your nose."

Dick halts the mining exercise. "Sure, sure."His face does flame with embarrassment — resulting in his currently oversized ego deflating somewhat.

Billy pats Dick on the shoulder. "It is great to be back Boss!"

Dick musters up some Boss courage, and pumps up that ego. "But don't get too comfortable Billy the big bill. Cause when I get approval." The new Head Pro makes a slitting motion across his throat.

The new round of bird droppings score direct hits on Dick's ostentatious hat. The little man doesn't notice.

Loud celebratory chirping erupts from the treetop. Billy wears an ear to ear grin as he contemplates if he should inform the pompous ass of the foul present.

"And I'll fire anyone close to you," threatens Dick.

After that comment Billy decides he'll not advise Dick of his crap hat.

A final dropping lands on Dick's mining finger at the exact time he is about to pick his snot box. In goes the finger. Billy's stomach does a lurch. "Please never pick your nose again in front of me."

"Is your giant hooter jealous?" Dick laughs, poking Billy in the stomach.

"No, but I'll break your finger if you gross me out again. And please Boss, make that the last big nose crack."

"You, you can't tell me what to do."

"Just did!" Mr. Parks scowls, grinds his teeth, and locks eyes with Dick.

This forces the Head Pro to step back, looking down at his shoes. "I, I have to go see Joey." Dick scurries off with knees knocking, bird shit dripping from his nostrils, and mocking chirps and cheeps directed at his back.

Billy proceeds towards the maintenance shed. He spots Henry, the Maintenance-Man walking toward him.

"Billy, welcome back," thunders Henry. "And you're leading by one in the Pebble Beach bet." The two embrace, demonstrating the close bond between the long time friends.

"Great to be back Henry."

"I've been wanting to talk to you."

"What is it?"

The elderly Maintenance-Man nods his head to the side. "Lets go where its quiet." They head off where prying eyes and finely tuned ears will not bother them. They walk in silence for a distance. Henry stops and looks Billy straight in the eyes. "Billy, you know I see stuff round here."

"You don't miss much."

"Yeah, been afraid of speaking up, cause..."

"What is it Henry?"

"Well, no one gonna listen to old Henry, me being black and all. It be 1960, but it isn't so good for my types. Maybe some day, but..."

"I'll sure listen."

"Yeah! But if old Henry speaks up, them cops not gonna take my word. They may finger me."

"Okay Henry, what did you see?"

"Remember Billy, when that Dishwasher was killed?"

"Chuck!"

"Remember when Timmy was hurt bad?"

"You bet I do."

"A different car was used both times to get away." A nervous Henry shuffles his feet. "But, it was the same driver of them cars that makes not a lick of sense."

FOUR

Two hours before that first ever Golden Eagle Board meeting, a guy who has been accused of seldom making sense, strolls into work. The ink-stained shirt wearing Joey opens the door to his office — and baby what a big surprise. For sprawled across his desk lies the Tennis Pro, Candy Spooner. She's dressed in red slinky silk tight lingerie, red high heels, red garter and fishnets.

"Bella!" Joey goes bug-eyed. For Candy presents quite a picture on his desk, holding a glass of wine.

She beckons the Hammer to join her in the love game. She puckers her wide inviting red lips and says, "Hello Boss! Do you like my new work outfit?"

"Yeah!" Joey gulps as his hungry eyes take in the slinky picture. "Real, real red letter day!" Also, he notices how her lips are twitching. He'd heard from some of the boys, who have shared Candy's treats in the past, that the more aroused the Tennis Pro becomes, the more rapid the lip twitch.

She reaches down and reveals her massive bottom lips which are every bit as inviting to Hammer. "Should we finish the seal-the-deal interview? Want to make sure I'm part of today's Board appointments."

Joey leers, inching closer to take in the sweet sight. "Hmm. Head of Entertainment."

"Can show how entertaining I can be."

"Bet you can entertain real fun like." Joey gulps again as he notices the twitch theory applies to her bottom half as well. He has also heard from the boys, how her vast vagina can propel a pingpong ball. Now that would be a show he thinks.

She winks and lets out a knotty snicker. "And I'm about to entertain your brains out!"

"That's what the Head of Entertainment gotta do." He flashes a lecherous smile, tosses his pen in the corner. He saunters the rest of the way to her, grabs her glass and drains it.

She slips two fingers into her cavernous pussy and releases a seductive moan. "Oh Joey!" She massages herself, pulls her dripping fingers out and licks them one at a time. "Ooh, I think I'm ready." She giggles. "Time for your tennis lesson."

"Where does I start?"

"Start with a basic stroke Hammer. Get your racket ready."

Joey breaks into an upcoming-sex sweat. "Take one big racket to play that there court."

"Oh yeah!" She then begins to run her fingers up his thigh, proceeding to his racket. She raises her eyes in surprise. "The outfit isn't doing it for you?"

"Oh Honey, I dig the red getup! Just wanna little persuasion."

"Ooh!" Her friction-generating fingers work that racket, playing a solid lob and volley game. "Now my true talent will come out."

"Wow! Smooth stroke! Talented broad." Joey begins to simmer down under. "Talented with all that there spy-like work you done for me."

"Ooh Joey! You know how I love the undercover action."

"Dames following orders gets me hot."

"Done everything you asked." All her skillful finger work now stiffens the crooked racket. She licks her rapid twitching lips. "Except, my turn to give an order. So give it to me right here. Right now!" She wiggles into position, spreads her legs and arches her back.

"Wow!" Joey steps up to drive his point home.

She groans. "Yes! Drive me Hammer!" She digs her nails in his firm ass. "And drive me hard!"

Joey slams his penis into her wide-spread offering. "Great fuck! Much better than Sophia!"

"Oh Joey! I'm gonna love working under you!" She wriggles her ass ensuring an even deeper penetration. "Hammer me hard!" She rips his shirt open, raking her nails across his chest, and sings the sultry song, "Let me entertain you!" She continues to sing the turn-on tune while Hammer finds his back and forth volley rhythm, learning all about Candy's type of love game.

Another type of game is about to begin. This game ranks every bit as sleazy as Candy's. For the first official meeting of the Golden Eagle Board awaits kickoff, and the oak tabled conference room acts as the crooked playing field.

Eddie sits at the head of the table with Joey, Susan, Rosa and Dick positioned around him. The manipulating Eddie left nothing to chance. For he strategized the seating plan, ensuring the sitting chart works to his advantage. He even cut down Rosa and Susan's chairs to ensure they feel small and insignificant.

An intimidating Big Bubba hovers behind Eddie. Killer hangs at Eddie's side, lapping up the coke in his doggy dish. Yes, Killer just can't kick the habit. The dog's loud slurping penetrates throughout the room. And anyone within three feet of that doggy dish, receives a coke shower. But there is not a soul that will complain about Killer's deplorable manners.

"Why is Dick attending?" Susan inquires.

"Someone needs to take minutes," replies Eddie.

"I will do it," Susan announces. "You may leave Dick."

Joey's a sight for sore eyes. He wears a shirt with lipstick and ink stains with buttons missing. He grips a dripping pen in one hand and leans forward. He pounds the table with his free hand. "No fucking way!"

Susan grins at Hammer. "Joseph, first off, put the pen down before you paint us all blue." The room enjoys a chuckle. "Second, I'm buying you a walking cane. It will be on your desk in the morning. Maybe that will keep your frisky fingers from creating continuous chaos."

Joey rants, rages and wears a rosy red embarrassed mug. He attempts to save face by continuing to demand Dick take minutes.

"Relax Joey," Eddie says. "It will give Miss Clark something to do." He enjoys reminding the middle-aged Susan of her unmarried status. For his Uncle Vinnie refused to tie the knot with her many years ago when she became pregnant with his child.

"What does that mean Edward?" Susan asks, knowing Eddie hates when anyone calls him Edward.

Eddie snarls as he plucks at the cuff of his expensive silk shirt. "Unfortunately Miss Clark, you did not contact our lawyer in Vegas to activate your trust status."Eddie flashes a victory smile. "In order that your daughter Virginia Clark's 20% could be voted on by yourself."

"What?" Susan leans forward with an anxious look. "You never said anything about that."

Eddie laughs in a scornful manner. "Do I have to tell you everything?" Eddie feels as if he has more than paid Susan back for calling him Edward. He despised his grandmother who called him Edward, and that same grandmother thought the world of Susan.

Susan's eyes bore into Eddie. "Does that mean Rosa was to contact the lawyer about her marriage?"

"Yes, of course Miss Clark. Therefore, the additional 10% she was to receive upon her marriage is not votable either."

"But you or Papa should have told me," scolds Rosa. "So that means I can only vote my 20%, not the extra 10%?"

"That is correct," says Eddie.

Joey scoffs. "Gotta be more on top of things Rosa. No time for honeymoons."

"Why didn't you tell me Papa?"

"You a big girl now. Maybe your cheating husband should a told you."

Susan and Rosa share a glance, both feeling like they have been out maneuvered by these slippery sharks.

Eddie utilizes a triumphant voice, "Therefore, due to the ineptness of some of the Board members. The only votes that can be counted today are: Joey's 20%, my 20%, and Rosa's 20%. But nothing out of Rosa's trust, and nothing from Miss Clark on behalf of her daughter."

"Jerks!" Rosa smacks the table. Clearly, she's acquired that habit from her hammering father.

"Settle down," commands Joey.

"And respect your Papa's wishes," Dick adds.

"We's being real patient with yous dames," Joey says. "So get in line."

Rosa gives her father a look that could level him. He hums, grinning back at his daughter like the cat that swallowed the Golden Eagle canary. He feels she deserves this board beat down. For he can't believe she went ahead with the wedding. He'll give her the cold shoulder until she cracks. He knows she will. Especially, since her and Billy aren't getting along.

Eddie thinks he's got the ladies right where he wants. "Rosa, you can stay, but listen and learn. And out of the goodness of our hearts, Miss Clark, you may stay and take minutes. And Dick you can stay as a special guest."

Joey sticks out his chest. "Time for yous gals to learn who you are dealing with." All the men enjoy a lengthy laugh at the ladies expense.

"All right then, let us proceed," says Eddie. "I will put forward a number of motions. We will vote on all of them at once to accelerate the process. First, I will become Chairman of the Board for a five year term. Second, Joey Corsini will take on the new title of General Manager of Golden Eagle. Third, we will confirm Dick Short as Head Pro. Even though, he has been operating in that capacity for three weeks now. Fourth, Candy Spooner will be named as the new Head of Entertainment."

"Sweet, sweet Candy!" Joey scratches his sore balls. "And very well deserved."

"Too much sweets can kill you," Eddie snipes. "And finally, Billy Parks and Barb Bond will be terminated immediately."

Rosa stands, her pupil's flaring. "No way!"

Eddie asks in his mocking tone, "Aren't you happy the two, who cheated on you, and made a complete fool of you, will be gone?"

"Both scum!" Dick adds.

"Getting rid of the trash." Joey whacks the table with pen in hand, ink squirting up into his face.

Susan gapes at Joey's actions. "What about the Golf Digest article?"

Joey waves his ink stained hand in a dismissive manner. "Don't care what some fucking golf rag says."

Rosa fumes. "If, if you cared about this Club you would!"

"Drop it," Joey commands. "Sit down! Just a brat!" He knows if he pushes his daughter hard right now, she'll cave, and it'll be clear sailing.

Rosa squares her shoulders. "Papa! Please go wash your face and hands. And for God sakes, change that shirt! And finally, please don't play your sick games with me."

Joey leaps to his feet. "Don't fucking talk to me like that!" "Told you to sit down right fucking now!"

This time he is sure she will cave like a whipped puppy. His deceased wife always did, after she made one, maybe two determined stands. He'd push harder and harder, bully her until she broke. His wife would always capitulate. He always got his way. He's confident it'll be the same with his daughter.

Rosa gesticulates for a moment, but then stops. She takes a number of calming breaths, glaring at her father. "Enough Papa." She doesn't flinch. She doesn't blink. Her eyes penetrate deep into her father's soul. A cold silence envelops the room. "I'll be back for the next Board meeting, armed and ready for battle."

Joey sees a side of his daughter that scares him. But he'll never show that. He throws his head back and guffaws. "Rosa, stop making a fool of yourself."He gestures towards the door with his thumb. "Now get the fuck out!"

"Screw you!" Rosa tosses a glass of water in his face. She clutches for her cross. "You'll not emotionally abuse me." She storms to the door. "The way you did to my mother! Practically drove her to the grave!"

Twenty minutes later, more abuse awaits as Barb and Billy are escorted into the conference room. Waiting for them are Eddie, Dick along with a clean shirt wearing and ink-free Joey. All three faces support glowing smiles. Bubba and Killer hover at their usual spots. Susan vacated the room, no longer hanging with the trash.

"No use sitting," commands Eddie. "This will be quick."

Rosa steps in the room behind Billy and Barb. "Papa! I'm giving you one last chance to re-consider. Otherwise, it is all out war."

Joey stands and points at the door. "Get out Rosa. We's decided."

"I'm staying," Rosa says. "I want Billy and Barb to know, I had nothing to do with this."

"So shut up," Joey roars. "Let us guys do our job."

"Barb Bond and Billy Parks," Eddie glowers at each of them. "We are terminating both of you immediately."

"About time," Dick chirps. "I've been carrying them for years."

Rosa turns to her husband. "I couldn't stop them."

Billy scowls at her. "Are you sure you couldn't? Or maybe you didn't want to?"

"No, Billy, please understand," begs Rosa.

He pulls away from her as she goes to touch him. "I've had it with this place! You can go to hell!" Billy turns and walks out the door, yelling for all to hear, "Going for a drink!"

"Stop Billy!" Rosa shouts.

He continues to walk away. Before Rosa exits the room, she gives Joey, Eddie and Dick a want-to-kill-you look. "This means war! And Papa, the first shot will be directed between your abusing eyes." She departs calling after Billy.

"Dames all the same!" Joey brays. "Nothing but trouble!" He walks over and punches the wall. He cringes in pain.

Eddie and Dick nod their heads.

"You three are true male chauvinist pigs." Barb frowns. " All of you should be put away! Better yet, castrated!"

Joey grits his teeth. "Clear out! Barracuda's done here."

Barb commences a fit of hysterical laughter. The men in the room think she's gone crazy. Finally, she gains control of herself. "It's just so funny."

"You have been fired," states Eddie. "What is so funny about that?"

"Cause you clowns aren't firing anyone," the Barracuda pronounces.

Joey uses his good hand to throw a full glass of whiskey crashing against the wall. "What the fuck you talking bout?"

"You're fired, fired, fired!" Dick stands and throws his glass at the wall as well. But he misfires. He shatters a whiskey decanter sitting on a side board along with the whiskey glass, which leaves that count at nine. Is Billy's lead of three too much to overcome?

The lame throw sparks Barb's laughter again. When she finishes, she rubs her hands on her thighs with her blue eyes gleaming. "Ah Dick! You're such a wimp."

Eddie glances over to Bubba, pointing at Barb. "Enough!" He rises and snaps, "What part don't you understand? Or do you think that stupid Golf Digest article or the Romano job offer are protecting you? Cause they are not."

She slaps Eddie on the arm. "It's you that doesn't understand, when Joey the goof here." She points at Hammer, "Had me clean out Sophia's office. I conveniently found a rather incriminating document."

Joey advances towards Barb with an aggressive step. "No one threatens Hammer!"

The nimble Golf Pro hops back. "Just did. And if anything happens to me, the document's in trusted hands. And will be passed to the appropriate people." She exhales and plants herself in a chair. "Too bad for you chumps, Sophia was such a sloppy one."

"She's bluffing!" Dick hollers.

"Damn right, throw her out," demands Joey.

Bubba grunts and moves towards Barb.

She holds up her palm to halt the dentally-damaged bodyguard. "Does the code word, Cash in VC, mean anything?"

FIVE

That same afternoon over in Hollywood, Timmy attempts to find meaning himself. Howard Mortimer steps into the actor's trailer on the movie set. He sits down beside the martial arts expert and asks in a gentle tone, "What is it?"

Timmy groans. "I screwed up that scene."

"In my many years as a Producer, I found it is quite normal to have unsatisfactory scenes. All actors deliver subpar performances through an entire movie shoot."

"But, Mr. Mortimer, that's the second one today."

"Relax Timothy! We are calling it a day. I am motoring to Palm Springs immediately, returning late tonight."

"Why?"

"The Membership Committee I recently established and chair meets with Joseph Corsini concerning the difficulties surrounding that classless casino. As well as, the substandard performance of Mr. Short, the new Head Pro."

"Fools to demote Billy."

"Quite right Timothy! William was making phenomenal progress. He is a champion fellow!"

"Poor Billy! My best friend will have a Pro Shop mess on his hands with Dick in the Head Pro role."

"Hope we are able to assist William tonight. However, for you, it is time to let go."

Timmy sighs in defeat. "I can't get over why Maria turned me down. And slipped back to Palm Springs without saying a word."

Another lady, who doesn't say a word, slips somewhere. Although that somewhere, happens to be the newlywed's bedroom. This is the couple's first evening back from their honeymoon. Standing in the doorway, Rosa watches as Billy packs his bags.

She gazes at Billy's excellent physique and handsome profile. She loves to admire and touch those hard muscles. She reflects on his great personality, and feels fortunate to have him for a husband. But wonders if they can repair the damage? Could it start here? For this is the bedroom the two newlyweds have not broke in. Will they ever?

"Quite the first day back," Rosa says.

Billy continues to pack his items into a suitcase. He fires in the clothes without folding them. He takes out his anger on the garments.

"Look Billy. We need to wipe the slate clean. " She steps towards him, taking his hands. "You can't run."

Billy begins to speak. But nothing comes out. He seethes inside. But, the erotic fragrance from her perfume makes his head spin. Damn, he wishes those stimulating fragrances didn't have that intoxicating effect on him and his shaft.

"Sit please," Rosa commands. "I think something has been uncovered that may help us clear the air."

He resists, but then sits down on the edge of the bed, folding his hostile arms across his chest. "And what's that?"

The black-haired Rosa wiggles her hips, undoes her ponytail, and shakes out her beautiful flowing hair. She knows this drives Billy and his shaft crazy. "Did you ever consider that the drink Dick gave you at your stag had some sort of drug in it?"

He scrunches up his face as he struggles to recall. "I never..."

"I think Dick slipped you something."

He scratches his uncertain head. "Um! But..."

"It very well could have been."

He slaps his knee. "That little jerk!"

"True. Another thing, your night with Sophia happened before you and I hooked up. So, that's in the past. If the baby is yours, we'll deal with it."

"If it..."

"Exactly, if it is yours. And if she's even pregnant. With her, we don't know." She massages his shoulders, releasing some of the tension.

Billy melts a little, and lets out a small chuckle. "No kidding. She's crazy!"

"One final thing, do you have feelings for Barb?"

"No! No! No feelings, whatsoever. And I know she doesn't have feelings for me, in spite of what she said at the wedding."

"Think you're right." She massages her husband with more of an erotic motion, taking all the tension out of Billy's shoulders. Although, creating some further tension below the belt.

"Oh Rosa, that feels good!"

"Also, they didn't fire you and Barb in the end."

Billy jerks his head back in surprise. "Why?"

"Don't know what changed their mind. But you two are back."

"Excellent!"

"And as of tomorrow, my new name will be Rosa Parks." She giggles. "It has a nice lasting ring."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely!" She touches his nose. "So how about..." She lays a passionate kiss on his lips.

The tantalizing taste of her lips disorients Billy. Regrettably for Billy, the kiss ends. "How about what?"

"The evening's young!" Rosa whispers in her Italian accent.

"Yes, it certainly is." That intoxicating accent drives every part of Billy's body wild. Even that sizeable nose tingles with desire.

Rosa steps back, slipping her dress off. Then with a wicked grin, whips her black lace bra and panties off. "Voila!" She tosses them at her husband. The temptress thrusts her humongous breasts forward, wearing nothing but her five-inch Italian stiletto heels. She purrs like a pussy still in honeymoon heat. She inches closer to Billy, rotating her hips. "How about we start our honeymoon all over again?"

His breath quickens. "You mean like a second honeymoon?" The sight of Rosa's exquisite body fuels and feeds Billy's desire. It sets his shaft to throbbing.

She blows him a kiss. "You bet!" She slinks forward, and unzips Billy's pants. Pulls out his shaft, working him to a feverish state with her nimble fingers. She pushes him down on the bed. "But for round one, you lie back and enjoy." She kisses him long and hard, coming up for air panting. The ready-to-ride Rosa playfully pins her man's arms to the bed. "Cause Rosa Parks is driving this honeymoon ride."

Howard experiences an enjoyable ride as well, but it occurs in a stretch limo. He arrives in Palm Springs in plenty of time for the early evening meeting in the Conference Room. He utilizes a new driver. It happens to be the Private Investigator he hired to look into his son's death. That same PI that Joey wouldn't allow to speak with any of the Golden Eagle staff. While this meeting unfolds, that driver plans to do some skulking around. And maybe, just maybe the PI can get a definite lead on Chuck's murder.

The Membership Committee communicates all of their concerns. They show the upmost respect to the Golden Eagle representatives. Joey perches at the head of the table, Dick at his right hand. All through the presentation the two keep sharing knowing glances. They roll their uninterested eyes in unison. They pass notes between each other. They giggle like a couple of knotty school boys. Dick enters and re-enters the room numerous times. As well, Joey plays with his pen, leaving ink stains from head to toe.

So the proceedings arrive at the point where Howard wraps up the pitch and asks, "Mr. Corsini and Mr. Short, are there any questions or clarifications before you respond?"

Joey shakes his disinterested head, and turns to Dick who replies, "Not a one."

"Excellent," says Howard. "We anxiously anticipate your professional response."

Dick scampers to the door to open it for Hammer. Joey stands and speaks in a condescending tone, "All of yous can go fuck yourselves! And Mr. Hollywood Producer, them new specs makes your mug even more ugly."

Dick cackles. "Got that right Boss!"

Joey tosses a pen at Howard. "Hope yous gonna crash on your ride back. Cause your driver gotta broken arm."

Hammer marches straight over to his favourite place to enjoy another type of ride. The thrilling and addicting roller coaster ride of a casino. Gambling's Hammer's bag. Joey puffs on a big cigar — feeling like a million bucks when surrounded by the sights and sounds of a gaming establishment.

The Golden Eagle General Manager scans the joint while he leans on a fancy new walking cane. He enjoys the snappy silver-handled cane Susan purchased for him. He believes it adds a touch of class to his look. Especially, as he holds court at his smoke-filled poker-playing palace.

Hammer loves this gambling den he built right in Golden Eagle. His very own mini-Vegas casino, top of the line. Only those privileged enough receive the invitation to attend. And the swanky joint has been jumping and hopping ever since it opened.

Although, the trash Joey invites doesn't fit well with the high-brow Golden Eagle cliental. Hammer's proud of himself for ignoring all complaints raised by the snobby Golden Eagle members. As well as shocking the shit out of those full-of-themselves old cronies.

Joey snaps his fingers. The newly appointed Head of Entertainment saunters over to him.

Candy plants a wet juicy kiss on her boss. "Hi handsome! Love the cane!" She cuttles in for a hug and squeeze. "Thank you so much for the job. I won't disappoint."

"Fitting in perfect!" Hammer tosses his cane aside. He grabs her by the ass. "Hey doll! Joey's Place hopping tonight."

"So crazy! You run such a swell joint." Candy plants another kiss on Joey. She sniggers as she grasps a handful of Joey's delicious buttocks for her own pleasure.

"My dream's to make this joint." Joey puffs on his cigar. "To make this joint, and this here entire club, all mine!"

"And I'm here to help." The affectionate chick tugs on his tie.

"So was Sophia. And look what happened."

"I'm not Sophia. Do you miss her?"

Joey slaps her on the ass again. "Not when I got the best piece of ass in town."

She slithers her hand down to her crotch, and touches herself, letting out a sensual sigh. "Ooh Hammer!" She juts out her hip. "Maybe later, to celebrate my appointment, I'll entertain you with some ping pong magic!"

"Now that's a magic show I gotta see!"

Candy shimmies even closer to him. "You know that night Sophia and I had our fight right here in your casino?"

Joey grins as he recalls the dame scrap. "How could I forget?"

"Before the fight, I was dying to get him out of here, and show Rocco my favourite trick!"

"Too bad the goof never got to see that there magic."

"Do you miss not having Rocco hear to share the dream?"

"My brother's loser city with no smarts. And Sophia's coo coo."

"Be careful Joey! They may want revenge."

"No chance! Sophia can't chew bubblegum and walk at the same time. Rocco can't even chew bubble gum."

Candy pretend slaps Hammer. "You're terrible! But they were loyal to you."

"Ten times better off without 'em. Time to soar on my own!"

A slippery shyster, who also wants to soar, knows Joey will be tied up in the casino for a long while. Especially, if that bubbly cheerleader type Candy gets her hands and lips on him. So the Head Pro sneaks into Hammer's empty office, time to play pretend.

Dick sits like the king of the GE castle in Joey's big black leather chair. He pours himself a drink, lights up a big old cigar, putting his feet up on the desk. Except, his short legs keep flopping to the floor, until he finally wedges himself in the chair, finding an awkward big boss position.

"Ah! Kinda how Joey does it." Dick thinks how great it'd be if he were Head of Golden Eagle. He'd run things much like Hammer. But with a bit more class. He'd have a ton of big strong body guards around, way more muscle then Hammer's got hanging about currently. No one would give him any lip. He'd have heads broken.

He reflects how being Head Pro was his dream. But now that he possesses that title, he thirsts for more. Dick laughs at how little he does as Head Pro. And how all of the complaints that Howard's committee raised rang true. And those complaints were related to things he did. Even though he told Joey and Eddie that it was stuff the other Golf Pros did. First chance he gets, he'll tear a strip off the Golf Pros in front of Joey and Eddie, just to show all of them how tough he is.

Dick contemplates which horse to back, Eddie or Joey. For although they appear as if they're working together right now, once they eliminate the others, they'll clash. Only one will survive. He must back the winner he figures. Unless a long-shot like Sophia comes through in the end.

"No matter what, my future shines bright!" Dick takes a shot of the whiskey, chokes and spits it out. "Rotgut!" He inhales a puff of the cigar. He coughs and hacks for a couple of minutes. Finally, he barks out, "Cheap shit! Wait until I drive things around here."

The door swings open with a sudden swirl. " Caught you!" Barb shouts. As she witnesses the shock on Dick's face, she enjoys a loud knee-slapping laugh.

The surprised Dick tumbles out of the chair, spilling the drink on himself, dropping the lit cigar in his lap. "Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!" he attempts to untangle himself, making the comedy show even more hilarious for Barb. He rubs his crotch.

"Did you want me to call Killer in to lick your boo boo? He'll make it all better."

Dick scrambles to his feet. "Get the fuck out."

"All you're dreaming and scheming, but you'll end up screwing it up!"

"Watch me, Barracuda! I'm General Manager material."

"The only thing you have in common with the current General Manager, is you both have unique peckers."

Dick picks his Golden Eagle whisky glass off the floor. He throws it at Barb, missing her, breaking the glass and Joey's third place trophy from a poker tournament. Ten of the whisky glasses destroyed, Barb will be paying for Billy's Pebble Beach party weekend if this madness continues.

"Hammer will be spanking you for that trophy take down," Barb teases as she shuts the door.

"I — will — kill — you!" He bellows at the top of his lungs. He kicks the chair. "Ouch!" he plants himself back down, massaging his soar toe. "Well, I better get at it." Dick picks up the phone receiver and dials. "Hi Sophia. You and me gotta talk!"

SIX

Four weeks later Agent Finder from the FBI would love someone to talk as well. He sits with his sister Susan and Rocco in a dark room in a safe house in the outskirts of Palm Springs. Rocco has been staying there under heavy guard. But Rocco hasn't talked. He protected his family, not spilling an ounce of useful evidence.

"Take all the time you want to think over your decision," Agent Finder says. "Not an easy one."

Rocco nods.

"However Rocco," Agent Finder continues. "We've information that has come to the attention of the FBI. Nothing that can be 100% proofed yet."

Rocco raises a curious eyebrow. "What is it?" But Rocco doesn't speak with as thick an accent. His enunciation rings clearer. Are those speech lessons and readings Susan gives him helping the big fella? How many words has he expanded his vocabulary by?

Agent Finder clears his throat. "That someone in the Corsini family contracted that knife attack on herself in jail."

"My brother wouldn't tell you," says Susan. "If he wasn't sure it is true."

A cleaned up Rocco leans back in his chair and exhales a long breath. "Done tons of thinking this last while." That's not all Rocco has done. He lost weight on his body and face. He worked out that body and exercised that mind. He looks rather handsome perched in front of his chessboard. "The news you share won't change my decision."

"But one of them tried to kill you," pleads Susan.

A muscle in Rocco's mammoth jaw twitches. "Good point. Very good point, but family is family." He thinks for a long moment, biting his lower lip. "Greatest chess player in the United States and the world back in the eighteen hundreds, played a famous chess game against a Duke and a Count."

"What's chess got to do with this?" Susan asks.

"Well, this here player sacrificed much material through the game," explains Rocco. "But in the end, he won." He wipes his forehead. "Just like the pickle I'm in. If I come clean, I risk a lot. My life."

"You'll be protected," Susan assures the giant.

"That's right!" Agent Finder leans forward and makes a move on the chessboard. "You'll be a hero in my mind."

Susan's entire face lights up. "A real winner."

"But will I be alive to enjoy your view?" Rocco's eyes dart about the room. "Mob will finger me as a snitch and a dirty rotten fink. Never be safe again." He lets out a bitter chuckle. "But it's time to play the risky game." The reformed Rocco gulps and whispers, "So here is what I know."

The morning of the Poker Derby and one sharp gal who also knows a few things waltzes into the Golden Grill. The only person in the room is the middle aged owner who is pulling out her famous breakfast muffins from the oven. "Susan, we did it," Rosa says. "And boy, do those smell great."

Susan holds out a pan of muffins. "Did what?"

Rosa snatches a hot muffin. "Just came back from my lawyers. I've exercised a clause in the Incorporation Agreement of Golden Eagle. As a major shareholder, I've requested a special Board meeting."

"Excellent Mrs. Parks! Ever since the last Board meeting four weeks ago, you've been determined to understand how this Board works?"

"And this time Susan, as long as you and I stick together, we can correct the crap Eddie and Papa pulled at the last meeting." Rosa enjoys a bite. "Oh my God! So good!"

"Your mother would be so proud of you. You've turned into a real business tigress!"

"I got to dreaming yesterday, and do you think all the unused land Golden Eagle owns next to the golf course, could ever host a huge open air concert or music festival?"

"Anything's possible." Susan rubs her chin. "Just think, people coming from all over the world to a weekend concert in the Coachella Valley. Sounds crazy, but..."

"But back to reality," says Rosa. "I have two days before that special meeting. And a lot to figure out before we take control of this ship."

Barb strides into the Golden Grill with Billy walking two steps behind yelling, "This is crazy!"

"Rosa, I need you to talk some sense into your husband," begs Barb.

Rosa gives a lopsided grin. "Could you ask me something a little easier?"

Miss Bond enjoys a hearty laugh as she grabs a hot muffin. "I need a favour. Want to use my prize money from my top thirty placing to enter me in the Poker Derby tonight."

Susan gasps. "But Barb, you've never played poker."

"That's why I need Billy to play for me. I never beat him in our bets. But most important, I've heard of him cleaning up at tons of poker games." Barb samples the melt-in-your-mouth muffin. "So yummy! Better than sex!" Rosa nods her head in agreement and giggles.

"But Barb, those are small time poker games," explains Billy. "This is the big time." He looks down. "And that's when I was drinking. I play better when I am hammered. And there's no way..."

"That's good to hear," Rosa responds. "But why Barb?"

"My chance to earn enough money to carry me on the LPGA for at least two years."

"But you could loose what you earned," points out Susan.

"That would only carry me for a short time," Barb says. "Even the Golf Digest article didn't get me any sponsorships. This is the way I can hit the tour, and no money worries. And extra money for those things that can make a real difference to my game."

Billy shakes his head. "Just too risky!"

"But no hard feelings if we don't win," assures Barb.

Rosa looks into her husband's nervous eyes. "Up to you Billy. But I think you should."

"Go for it, Billy," the supportive Susan encourages. She enjoys a bite from one of her tasty delights. "Oh yes! Even better than a threesome!" Rosa, Barb and Billy's mouths hang wide open in shock.

Billy grabs a muffin, takes a bite and moans for a long moment.

Playfully, Barb elbows Rosa in the ribs. "He just came!"

Billy blushes and takes a second before he speaks. "I, I don't know about playing poker." He squirms and shuffles. "Besides, probably too late to enter." He hopes it is too late. For he feels the decision has been made, and he has no chance against three scheming muffin eating women.

Susan and Rosa share a conspiratorial glance as the owner of the Golden Grill says, "I think we can take care of that detail."

That afternoon a guy who wants to take care of details, but they are dirty details, walks Killer out on the plush grass of Golden Eagle. Bubba hangs fifty feet behind to ensure there are no surprise attacks on the Mob Boss. Eddie contemplates how satisfied he is at this point of his life. Everything seems to be going his way.

Eddie chuckles and mutters to Killer, "Rosa played right into our hands — special Board meeting. That girl is as stupid as her mother. Oh but, every bit as desirable."

Eddie misses Rosa's mother. How he yearned for her — coveted her — lusted after her. He regrets never bedding her. Even though, he bragged he did. He regrets how ugly it ended. "So Killer, will I ever find love again?"

Killer growls.

"You are probably right!" He inhales the scenery at Golden Eagle. Part of that spectacular scenery he salivates over, is the vivacious Barb Bond at the driving range. "Ah, I sure could get used to spending more time in Palm Springs. And how I will create an entire new stable of submissive sex weaklings. Too bad Miss Bond has an overabundance of spirit to make a suitable sex slave. But I'll enjoy taking her hefty entry fee at the Poker Derby tonight."

Killer barks in agreement.

"You do see the world clearly." The middle aged Eddie leans down and pats Killer on the head as they walk. "You are the only one I can trust."

Killer lets out another affirming bark.

"And my friend, for me to spend more time in this paradise, I must be able to effectively drive all Corsini family interests from this location. As well as, I must totally drive the Golden Eagle show. That means everyone who has any ownership position in Golden Eagle along with a few others." He looks back at Barb. "Must die!"

Killer lets out a double affirmation bark.

Joey's Place bursts at the seams. The smoke filled joint rumbles as all poker tables shuffle, fold, hold and call. Mobsters and Hollywood types including Sammy, Dino and even the singing stud Frankie participate. Even Johnny Romano shows under a strict one night truce between the two warring clans. A bottle of aftershave was dumped on the youngest Romano brother before entering the casino. Thus, ensuring he'd not be alone at the poker tables.

After all the preliminary rounds, and all the chips are counted. It is time to announce the finalists. Four players make it: Eddie, Sammy, an Old Spice smelling Johnny Romano, and Billy. Yes, no booze Billy has advanced to the final table. The final showdown where the pressure rides high. The tension will be excruciating. The table where the player with the biggest balls will walk away a winner.

Billy sweats and calculates through that final showdown game. Hand by hand, the tension mounts. Billy would kill for a drink. But he stays strong, stays in the groove. As the finish line nears, Eddie and Billy are the only two remaining. After a number of pressure-packed back-and-forth hands — it all comes down to one decisive hand.

This final hand is surrounded by utter silence. Both perspiring players lean forward ready to lay their cards down. Both are all in. All chips sit in the centre, all eyes focus on the cards about to be revealed.

"Full house," Billy declares as he lays down his cards. He has given it his all. He's so thankful none of the girls came to witness. For he couldn't face any of them, especially Barb, if he loses this last hand.

"Interesting!" Eddie drags out the moment. He looks at the apprehensive crowd, waiting on his next move. "Thank you all for coming. Coming to witness this momentous event." He slams his cards down. "Four of a kind!" He leaps out of his chair, raises his arms in triumph. "Winner and champ!"

Immediately after the successful Poker Derby, a supporter of that champ slimes over to hang with a snake, and fulfill Eddie's other ask. For Eddie's first ask wasn't as easy as Dick initially thought it would be. Flashing all those signals as he slithered around the poker tables, was tricky and thrilling.

Dick felt on top of the world when sending signals to Eddie, while he played Billy in that final game. Screwing Barb out of her money, and being a part of beating Billy sat sweet. Dick thinks, it doesn't get any better than that. Except, he does feel exhausted. He wonders if he can deliver on ask number two?

The self-centred Sophia smokes a cigarette in her four-poster bed. Dick lies beside her. He has worked her hard for the past weeks to bring her to this point, now to finish the job. He shares highlights of the Poker Derby, not the cheating of course. The former stripper feels slighted she wasn't invited to the Poker party. Also, she feels slighted at how Dick's penis is responding.

She wears slinky sexy lingerie. It fits tight as a kettledrum skin. Is she putting on a few pounds? Is she actually pregnant? And is she losing her touch? For Hot Legs has graced Dick's penis with as professional a stimulation session as she has ever given. And nothing, absolutely nothing stirs for Mr. Short.

Sophia supports an aggravated look on her face. She turns to the Head Pro. "Your dick is dead."

"Ah well, I'm trying to..." Dick fusses as he peeks at his unresponsive weapon.

"I've sure as hell tried. It has no spark." She flings her lit cigarette on the floor, pushing him down on the bed. "Let me try again. Love a challenge — Love it rough, rough, rough!" She locks her angry lips around Dick's member and commences to suck like a high powered vacuum cleaner. She digs her long lethal nails into his skin like a determined cat climbing a tree.

"Woe!" He feels the incredible force generated by her battle-like blow job. He feels those scratching cutting claws. He cringes in pain. "Ow! I, I don't know Sophia."

Hot Legs continues on, ramping up the effort. Almost blowing her brains out as she applies even more suction to the time-honoured task. Her frustration mounts. She pinches him on the rear, digging her claw like nails in deeper.

"Ouch!"

She spanks him a number of times. Dick thinks how that usually works for him. But no reaction from the dead zone. She delivers one more smarting spank.

Sophia comes up for air. "Man Dick! Nothing!" The frustrated Jersey girl wrenches his nipple.

"Eek!" Dick covers his pained face.

She delivers a hard vicious punch to his stomach."What the hell's going on?"

"Ow!" He curls up in a ball. "Please, please stop!"

"This droopy dick drives me crazy! Never had this happen with any other man." Sophia guffaws. "Well, maybe once or twice with stupid Rocco. Man that guy's dumb!" She kisses Dick's cock. "But this little jerk is really pissing me off."

"Maybe the stress of the Head Pro job's getting to me?"

"What fucking stress?" She slaps his face. "You do fuck all. Billy runs the place."

"Ow! But I oversee things." The Head Pro sticks out his chest. "I'm the big picture guy."

She pokes him in that scrawny chest. "Your Joey's flunky!" She gives his pecker a hard yank.

"Ouch! Am not!" Dick thinks just how crazy this broad is, and can't wait to escape from her grasp. But, he must do what he was sent for.

Sophia lights up another cigarette. She takes a puff and blows smoke in Dick's face. "You are so that pig's flunky!"

"Ah, speaking of Joey, he feels bad with what happened between you and him."

"Oh Bullshit!"

"No, Sophia! He really feels bummed out! And well, he'd love to get a chance to talk."

She arches a cynical brow. "No fucking way!" She pokes Dick in the nose. "I vowed to never speak to a Corsini again."

That's what Eddie and Joey predicted. And that's what they insist he change. "Oh please, please Sophia. Give Hammer a chance to smooth things over. He's been so sad since you and he..."

She tilts her head in surprise. "Seriously!"

Dick thinks he may actually have the street-wise hussy softening just enough. "He misses you. Yes, I think he truly misses your special skills."

"I'll make a deal with you," purrs Sophia. "I'll apply my magic mouth and touch one more time. If little dick salutes." She issues one last solid slap on his ass. "I'll talk to Joey."

SEVEN

The next afternoon Maria feels as if someone slapped her in the heart. She slumps in a chair in the corner of the empty bar, crying her pretty Latino eyes out.

Billy spies his distraught friend, making his way to her. Now Billy is not feeling very chipper himself. Informing Barb that he lost her prize money proved painful. Of course, she thanked him, and was real swell about it. But, he feels like crap. And he came so close, so very close.

"Okay Maria." Billy plunks himself down beside the troubled girl. "Time to talk."

She shakes her head.

"You have to talk to someone. You've devastated Timmy. You're devastated yourself."

She continues to ball her eyes out, laying her head on the shoulder of her trusted friend.

Billy puts his arm around her. He lets her cry it out for a few minutes. "There, there, it can't be that bad."

She cries even more, soaking Billy's shirt.

He utilizes a comforting tone, "Then let me attempt to put two and two together." "Has this got something to do with Eddie Corsini?"

Upon hearing from Billy that Eddie is causing some sort of distress, Timmy speeds to Palm Springs later that afternoon. Howard gave the budding martial arts movie star a couple of days off. Timmy heads straight for Golden Eagle, and straight for Joey's musky-odour office, where Eddie Corsini hangs out.

Timmy busts through the door. "Joey, Bubba, Killer get out!" Timmy shoots all a menacing glare that should wilt even the hardest of tough guy or dog with an ounce of brains.

"Bubba, Killer do your job," Eddie commands as he steps behind his bodyguard.

The two have experienced Timmy's skill, and they have over an ounce of brains. A scared Killer yelps, pissing on Eddie's pant leg. Bubba shakes and looks down, capitulating as he backs to the door.

Clearly, the GM's brains are not functioning. For real slow like, Joey reaches into his suit coat pocket. He smiles as his fingers touch the hidden gun, thinking the martial arts expert will not notice the gun he pulls out.

Timmy's powerful punch in Hammer's chest hurls him back. The gun discharges. Another window smashes. How much time do the janitors at Golden Eagle spend cleaning up glass and installing new windows? Also, they should clean up Joey, sprawling flat on his ass, gasping for breath.

"Everybody out!" Timmy roars. "Except Eddie." Timmy hands Bubba five bucks. "Go get a big lunch for you and Killer. Susan would love to see you two. And I like your new teeth." For finally, the hulking bodyguard did acquire a gleaming new set of false teeth. Bubba leads a whimpering and whining Killer out of the office with Timmy yelling, "And someone fix Killer's dental mess."

Killer lets out a confirming bark.

Timmy grabs a panic faced Eddie by the throat. "I can say what I have to in front of Joey, if you know what I mean? But I think Joey should leave for this."

Eddie, still wearing the sling, orders, "Joey out!" Hammer moans and groans as he exits the room.

"Somehow, you didn't understand what I meant when I said that I know." Timmy had alluded to Eddie that he knew what happened in the death of Joey's wife. And Eddie's hands wore dirty stains.

"You can't know. You're bluffing."

"I don't bluff."

Eddie stares at the martial arts expert and attempts to read his expression. "There is no possible way I can be implicated in that death."

"We'll see." The White Knight rams Eddie against the wall. Eddie's fancy fedora flutters to the floor, lighting up the room with his smooth shiny head. Timmy graces Eddie with another rough ride against the wall. "But you must be threatening Maria."

"I, I never did," Eddie pleads in a strangled voice.

Timmy tightens his grip. "Liar!"

"I didn't!"

"You're such a sick bastard! And you'll never quit hurting people!" Timmy slams Eddie against the wall a couple more times. The Godfather crumples to the floor. "So to ensure you leave Maria alone. I'm going to end this."

After dealing with Eddie, a determined Timmy heads straight for the Golden Eagle Bar. He assumes the standard one-knee proposal position. "Maria, the threat from Eddie is eliminated for good."

"No, Timmy! Don't make me say no again."

"Eddie will never bother you again. It's over." Timmy pulls out a sparkling diamond ring. "But I'll not stop bothering you. Please marry me?"

"No, Timmy!" A haggard looking Eddie hobbles into the room. Maria carries on, "Oh Timmy, you are a dear friend. I've wanted to tell you. But well, I love Eddie now. He makes me feel like a real woman!" Maria races into Eddie's arms. With his fedora back on, Eddie levels a cocky grin at the devastated Timmy.

Dick also wears a cocky grin as he hears voices coming towards the back room of the Pro Shop where he skulks alone. He shoves a key into his pocket. He extracted that tiny key from Barb's purse which sits on the table. The Head Pro snickers and whispers to himself, "Well, well, I now know where Miss Bond hides her valuables."

A hot and sweaty Billy and Barb open the door and enter.

"Are you two taking a break?" Dick bellows. "Fucking useless Golf Pros."

Barb plunks herself in a chair. "And what have you done today?"

"I don't answer to you." Dick stomps his foot with his brand new top-of-the-line golf shoe. "Get back to work!"

"As usual, you didn't come into work until after lunch." Billy shakes his weary head in disgust. "We've been going hard all day." He plants himself in a chair. "And we both have lessons to give in ten minutes. So..." Billy pours himself and Barb a glass of grape juice. They enjoy a refreshing drink.

"Both of you are losers," chides Dick, "Barb, the broke barracuda, and Billy, the card bungling boozer."

"Get lost!" Barb snarls as she wipes her face with a towel.

"Can't wait until I can truly fire you bums," threatens Dick.

"Be careful who you step on while on the way up," Barb warns. "Cause you might meet those Golf Pros on your way down."

"I'm only going up. And I'm going to love stepping all over you two in my expensive footwear." Dick knows that this most recent finding in Barb's purse will be one more thing that assists him in his climb upward. "Love having you low life's at the bottom of the ladder. And watch your dreams shatter — like the out-of-funds bimbo, Miss Bond." Dick pokes her on the arm. "No more Ladies Tour for you."

"And you'll never take another step on that ladder in those shoes." She leans over and pours her grape juice on Dick's bright orange and yellow golf shoes. "And no more eye-straining footwear on the course."

Dick tap dances backwards in his now mainly purple golf cleats. He rages. "You piece of garbage!" He steps forward, and shoves his trembling fist in Barb's face. "You just wait. I'm going to surprise you!"

Barb grabs Dick's thieving fist, "Surprise us and do some work around here."

Dick's head almost explodes with his rage. "The next surprise might be your last!"

The night before the Golden Eagle Board meeting and Hammer wants to pitch some sleazy slimy surprises. He may have to do some smooth talking. But, he knows if he plays this hand right, he can talk this broad into anything.

Joey places his feet up on his desk. His glass rides full of whiskey, cane on his desk, and the phone receiver in his hand. "Sophia, just hear me out."

Joey looks up at the ceiling in disgust as she continues to rant. He waits another minute for the storm to clear. He's glad Dick managed to orchestrate this call, and soften up Sophia a little, before he makes his next move. For Rocco's former wife and his former lover, carries some kind of major hate on for everything Corsini.

"Come on Beautiful! You is the best!" He smiles as he knows this will take time as he continues to receive an earful. But Hot Legs isn't yelling quite as loud.

"Hey Doll! Enjoy the dozen long stems? Them flowers reminded me of them long legs of yours." Joey thinks how the thorns on the roses also remind him of the scratch-happy Sophia.

"Sure miss my gal!" Joey coughs. "Nobody, but nobody, gives better..." He grabs his crotch.

The volume drops another notch. Although Joey does wonder if the self-absorbed dame will ever stop flooding the phone line with her anger? But one more flattery fib, and he feels he can play this money-hungry mouth-piece.

"Queen Sophia, casino ain't the same without you round." Her volume becomes more tolerable. Now Joey thinks it's getting time to close the deal.

He grasps his cane, rapping it on his desk. "Are you gonna snipe all night? Time for a truce. Here's the deal from Eddie and me. We's need an answer now." Hammer figures once this deal goes down, it'll be the last joint project for Eddie and himself. For over time, his battlefront must shift towards the know-it-all Mob Boss, but, first things first.

Joey enjoys a long drink. Nonchalantly, he hums until Sophia finishes her final bit of whining. He waits for her to take a breath and says, "So, here's the deal." "First, yous Romano's get an even bigger piece of the drug trade in the Valley. Second, yous get a chance to get back that evidence Barb holds. Third, we's willing to give you 1% piece in Joey's Place. Hottest casino in town. All this for yous guys, but yous gotta pull off this here triple play for us guys in the morning."

EIGHT

Early morning of the big board showdown, and golf's the game, no baseball in sight. Barb hits golf balls out on the Golden Eagle driving range before the sun rises. Just enough light to operate, but not enough to see clearly. Billy stands to the side analyzing her swing.

He gives a thumbs up. "Nice shot! Your consistency is amazing!"

"Thanks to you my friend."

"You're ready to make a serious run at the Ladies Tour."

"Just got no cash to properly take a run at it."

"Barb, let me apologize again."

She takes another swing. "You don't have to keep saying you're sorry. You did all you could."

"No I didn't," Billy says. "That's why last night I called the boys."

"What boys?"

"Sammy, who already was willing to put up more cash. Then Dino and Peter threw in a pile of greenbacks. And finally, Frankie came through big time. So Barb, the Pack of four cool cats will become your primary sponsor for the next two years."

"Wahoo!" Barb throws her hands in the air in excitement.

A gunshot rings out. She grabs her shoulder and hits the ground. Another gun shot rings out with Billy grasping his stomach. These are bullets flying, not baseballs. Two more gunshots echo through the course.

Two hours later Susan sits beside Barb's hospital bed. She holds the Golf Pro's hand, pressing a cool cloth to Barb's forehead. "Is there anything else I can do?"

"No, I'm fine."

"This is terrible Barb! But I'm glad they got the bullet out of your shoulder. It didn't hit the bone. And the other bullet just grazed your leg."

Barb moans. "Ah! Hurts like hell!"

"I bet! And that Billy!" Susan releases a sliver of a smile. "What luck! Bullet hit him square in his heavy belt buckle, ricocheted, and broke the window in Dick's new Beetle. Oddly, It was the first time in ages Dick was at work that early. The other bullet singed Billy's big toe."

Agent Finder strides into the hospital room. Susan makes brief introductions, says good-bye and departs.

Agent Finder gets down to business. "Miss Bond, your bank alerted us that first thing this morning, a lady somewhat matching your description attempted to impersonate yourself."

"Why?"

"Miss Bond, the individual attempted to gain access to your safety deposit box. Fortunately, the teller is a former golf student of yours, and knew it was an impostor."

"Those bastards!"

"Miss Bond, time to tell the FBI everything you know about what has been going on. And I mean everything."

She grins and winks at the handsome FBI man. "Well, Agent Finder, let's start with Uncle Vinnie Corsini."

The deceased Uncle Vinnie's favourite relative finished a lengthy early morning meeting with her lawyers. Rosa stands primed and ready to fight her father and Eddie. Since the last Board meeting, she's spent many hours learning and strategizing her next move.

Rosa hasn't heard of the shooting involving Billy and Barb. She pulls up into the parking lot at Golden Eagle. She doesn't notice the van slipping up right beside her. She steps out of her car. A massive hand is clamped over her mouth. She squirms, scratches and fights, but to no avail. Roughly, two thugs throw her into their van.

From a couple of hundred yards away, Henry witnesses the crime and yells at the thugs. The van squeals its tires and speeds off. Henry races to the Pro Shop. "Billy! Rosa's been kidnapped! But I got a good look at them."

First thing, Billy calls Timmy. A broken hearted Timmy stayed at his place last night. Maria crushed him. Her declaration of love for Eddie left the White Knight devastated. Will a Rosa recovery mission help Timmy mend his broken heart? He's racing over to Golden Eagle. Billy told the want-to-be movie star where to meet him. For they have someone to squeeze before any rescue mission can commence.

Billy limps into Candy's office. She inspects her nails while she sits behind her big new shiny desk. Has sweet Candy and Joey done the dirty deed on this desk as well?

"Where did they take Rosa?" Billy asks.

"No idea what you're talking about," replies Candy with a bright smile.

Billy grabs her by the arm. "Talk."

"You're hurting me. I'm Head of Entertainment. I'll have you fired."

"Where's their hideout? My wife's life is at stake."

"Get lost," yells Candy. "I've no idea what you're talking about."

Henry steps into the office. "Yes, you do! Saw you with 'em the night of Chuck's murder. Need I say more?"

Her eyes blaze. "That's a lie."

"Sure." Henry scowls. "And that was you with 'em the night Timmy was attacked."

"Another lie." Candy stands, shaking free from Billy's grip and points to the door. "Both of you get out!" Except, Candy shows a touch of nervousness. For if Joey ever found out she had any involvement with Timmy's beating, her current cushy role could be in jeopardy.

"You drive a mean getaway car," adds Henry.

"Start talking now!" Billy grasps her arm again. "Or you'll never make it to trial."

"Leave me alone!" Candy slaps Billy's face with her free hand. "I'm telling Joey! You'll both be fired!"

They hear tires squeal to an abrupt stop. A car door slams.

"You're in serious shit!"Billy threatens. "Start talking!"

"You schmucks don't scare me," Candy says.

Timmy runs into the room. One look at the man's eye's, and Candy shakes in fear.

"She knows where they are," states Billy. "But won't talk."

The longer she looks at the White Knight, the more she shakes. She drops her gaze, begins to shed a few tears. "Ah, I, I, know nothing."

Billy sneers. "You're a liar."

"Leave me alone!" Candy takes a swing at Billy and misses.

"Pretty lady," Timmy says in a low voice. "On the count of three, need I say more?"

"One!" Billy barks out.

"Know nothing." She bites her lip.

"Two! Time's running out," says Henry in his deep intimidating voice.

Candy opens up the tear floodgates and begs. "Please! Please!"

Timmy advances with an aggressive step. "One last chance."

"Okay! Okay!" She takes a long breath. "The Romano boys have a small cabin tucked away up in the hills of their property where they make moonshine. Hard to see the cabin in the canyon."

Billy scratches his head. "Hey! I know where that is." He glowers at her. "Better not be screwing with us. Henry, see that she doesn't go anywhere. Call Agent Finder, tell him everything, and let him know where we're going."

Timmy drives like a maniac. They proceed as far as they can by car. "Walk from here," Billy commands.

Timmy screeches to a stop. "We need help." He pulls a gun out of his glove compartment.

"Didn't know you packed?"

"Karate only gets you so far." The martial arts expert pulls out a baseball bat from under his seat. Baseball's my other love. He hands the gun to Billy. "Let's go!"

After a short silent walk, the two crawl the rest of the way to a side window of the secluded cabin. They peer in the dirty cracked window. A squirming Rosa's tied up and gagged. Rosa's eyes are watering, she appears as if she is ready to pass out. Could it have anything to do with the fact the unkempt putrid-smelling Romano boys are near?

For Carlo, Johnny and Nicky Romano sit around a table, guzzling whiskey straight out of a bottle. A slow gum chewing Sophia stands over them and lectures her brothers. Every few seconds she strikes her middle brother Nicky and a helpless Rosa on the head.

"I'll go in the front," whispers Timmy. "You cover the windows. If they get by me, or come out through either window, shoot to kill!"

Two minutes later splinters fly as Timmy barrels through the cabin door. Johnny's taken down with one swing. Carlo goes for his gun. Carlo is disposed of. Nicky fumbles for his gun.

Sophia works her gum hard as she orders, "Shoot the bum!"

One home run swing and Nicky's down and out.

Hot Legs continues to rant. Billy plunges through the window. He unties a struggling Rosa. Sirens sound in the background. Sophia grasps her own gun from her purse, aiming it at Billy.

An untied Rosa hurls a chair at Sophia's arm, knocking the gun out of her hand, and discharging the weapon. The bullet takes out a second cabin window. Need those Golden Eagle janitors to clean up this mess.

Sophia attempts to grasp her fallen gun. Billy snatches it up first. She yells, "You fucking scum."

Rosa grabs Sophia's purse, seizes her cheap perfume. She sprays each stinking Romano brother, emptying the entire bottle. "Even Sophia's cheap perfume's better than nothing."

Billy sniffs the air. "Not by much."

Sophia glares at Rosa. "I hate you. Your mother was a tramp!"

A hard breathing Rosa slaps Sophia's face. She grasps her forgive-all cross.

Sophia spits at Rosa and continues, "She screwed everyone, even Eddie." She shouts at Timmy, "And I'm glad we fucked up your face!"

Agent Finder and two other FBI Agents scurry into the room with guns drawn. "Everybody freeze!" He inhales a whiff of the air. "Smells like a skunk met a toilet in here."

Sophia takes a whiff herself. "You're all crazy!" She points to Timmy and Billy, making her declaration of innocence. "These animals attacked the law abiding Romano family." She then points to Rosa. "And this witch is their leader."

"The real criminals are out cold," Billy states and points at Sophia. "Except, for that one who claims she carries my child."

"Not your kid. You're not man enough!" Sophia laughs like a crazed hyena. "Henry's the father!" She continues to laugh and jeer at Billy.

"I wouldn't be laughing if I were you." Agent Finder begins handcuffing Hot Legs.

"Fuck off you bastard!" She begins chewing that gum at an accelerated pace. She attempts to kick the FBI man. He steps aside, avoiding her attack. "They are the criminals."

Agent Finder places her against the wall. "Sophia Corsini, or is that Romano now, you are under arrest for the first degree murder of Vinnie Corsini."

Rosa's hand goes to her mouth. "No!"

"Yes!" Agent Finder confirms. "Sophia, along with Joey and Eddie Corsini had a hit out on Vinnie. Thanks to Barb Bond and other informants, we've enough to make it stick."

"Nothing sticks to me," boasts Sophia. "All I ever did to the old grump was light his toupee on fire with my smoke."

"And that's why Uncle Vinnie sent us here," Rosa says. "Papa and Rocco were only joking when they dared you."

"I take all dares seriously," hisses Sophia. "But Uncle Vinnie's whacking isn't on me."

"Oh yes it is," Agent Finder says. "As well as the first degree murder of Chuck Mortimer, known as Chuck the dishwasher in certain circles."

She fights to free herself. The agile FBI man anticipates her every move — enraging her even more. She shouts, "Joey ordered that hit."

"That hit falls on all of you," insists Agent Finder. "Howard Mortimer's Private Investigator came forward this morning with solid evidence, pointing to Joey and all the Romano family. Topped off by what Henry saw, and what a songbird named Candy is singing as we speak. And that songbird was playing both sets of Mob brothers."

"That bitch! Want my lawyer," Sophia demands as she attempts to stomp on Agent Finer's foot.

Once again, he steps aside, thwarting her efforts

"You'll need a good one. Cause you're also being charged with today's attempted murder of Barb Bond and Billy Parks, kidnapping of Rosa Corsini, and the list goes on."

Rosa hugs Billy. This is the first she's heard of the attempted murder of her husband. "Oh Billy, did they really try to kill you?"

"But as usual, the Romano's messed it up," replies Billy.

"Fuck you!" Sophia shouts. "My brother Carlo's usually a crack shot!"

Rosa attempts to kick Sophia. She misses. "You're the one that's messed up!" Agent Finder looks the other way. Rosa gets a solid kick in on Sophia's ankle this time. She grasps that precious cross. "Forgive me Father."

Sophia tries to kick Rosa back. She misses. In the effort, she commences to choke on her overworked gum, rendering her helpless.

The other FBI Agents begin handcuffing the Romano brothers. Agent Finder points to Timmy, Billy and Rosa. "I'm heading to Golden Eagle. But I need you three to stay and give statements to my boys." He points to the three Romano brothers. "And when these criminals wake up, their charges will be every bit as severe as the smell-challenged Sophia's."

NINE

"Guess Rosa won't show," asserts Eddie. "Her time is up. Let us begin without her."

"Stupid kid!" Joey triple pounds the table with his fist. "Uncle Vinnie was a bloody fool to give her any of this here Club."

Eddie, Joey, Susan and Dick sit in the conference room prepared to begin the special Board meeting with Bubba and Killer playing their protective roles. Susan threw Eddie off. For this meeting, she didn't sit in the shortened intimidation chair prepared for her.

Susan ingratiates Eddie with a knowing look and winks. "Give her a few minutes Edward. Timmy and Billy may find her."

"No fucking way!" Joey hollers. "Get on with it."

Susan folds her arms, glares at Joey and Eddie. "If I find out either of you..."

Joey guffaws. "Kidnap my own Rosa. Don't be stupid. Saw some official looking chump hauling Henry and Candy away. Maybe them two had something to do with it."

Susan thinks of ways she can stall this Board meeting. Or better yet, have it cancelled. "If Rosa isn't here, this meeting should not proceed."

Eddie speaks in his firm Godfather tone, "Rosa requested this special meeting, therefore, it will proceed. With or without her."

Susan spies Joey playing with an ink-dripping pen. "Joseph, where is your cane?"

"Shit!" Joey grabs the cane. He begins playing with it, leaving sizeable ink smudges all over his fancy walking device.

"And why's Dick here again?" Susan asks, stalling a little more.

Eddie scoffs. "As I, the Chairman of the Board, stated previously, Dick is here to take minutes."

"And as I stated previously Edward," Susan fires back. "Dick please leave. I'll take them for now. In the future Golden Eagle would prefer someone with more integrity taking our minutes."

Joey double whacks his cane on the table. "Shut up! Know your place. Does you even belong here?"

"Glad you ask Joseph. Both Rosa and I took the necessary legal steps to ensure that I can vote my daughter Virginia's 20%, and Rosa can vote her 30%."

"So I've heard Miss Clark," Eddie says.

"Changes the dynamics," informs Susan. "When Rosa and I team up, you two take a back seat."

"Yes," agrees Eddie. "That is why Joey and I are putting forward a vote to this meeting, where we have one vote per shareholder, rather then weighted voting."

"You can't do that," protests Susan.

Eddie lets fly with his cocky grin. "Of course we can."

"But we'll end up in a bunch of ties," Susan points out.

"You catch on quickly," says Eddie with his sarcastic edge. "You and Rosa on one side Joey and I are on the other. However, we are also proposing all ties will be broken by the Chairman of the Board. Who happens to be me."

Susan tosses her pen on to the table. "You guys are so sleazy!"

"We will have our lawyers embed this, so it can't be changed." Eddie sighs with a deep satisfaction as he slides the pen back to Susan. "Let us put it to a vote under the old rules."

"Just too bad, Rosa's no showed," Joey says as he shares a conspiratorial grin with Eddie and Dick. All three of their faces glow with that, we got this all locked-up look.

"Oh, one point before we proceed." Susan's smile grows. "Too bad your stint on the Golden Eagle board must end."

Eddie sits up straight. "What are you talking about?"

She walks to the door, opening it. In steps the new and improved Rocco.

The huge man moves with a self-assured manner, sitting in a chair next to his brother Joey. Rocco delivers a playful punch on Hammer's bicep, making his brother flinch. "Ciao Brother. Can leave now Eddie. All's in order here."

Joey stares as if he has seen a ghost. Eddie fumes and asks."What the hell is going on?"

Susan slides a document to Eddie. "After talking to Vinnie Corsini's lawyer. We learned that you did not mention a small clause in Vinnie's Will. That if Rocco was divorced from Sophia within one year after Vinnie's death, he was to inherit the 20% which you had claimed."

A furious Eddie stands, sending his chair crashing to the floor. "No way!" He rips up the document.

"Oh yes!" Susan insists. "Upon Rocco's divorce with Sophia being finalized. We contacted Vinnie's lawyer, and the shares are now in Rocco's name. And that was a copy. Would you like another Edward?"

Eddie points at Rocco and Susan. "Bubba throw them out!"

Susan turns to the big fella. "Bubba, you know what we talked about."

"Sorry, Boss." Bubba gazes downward. "On your own."

Eddie snarls. "You are fired!"

Bubba shrugs. "Just a job."

"Thank you Bubba." Susan gives the big man a warm smile. Faint sirens sound in the distance. "Edward and Joseph, it is over. There is a pile of evidence lined up against both of you. Murder, attempted murder, etc."

A frightened look floods Eddie's face. "I will beat all charges." For the first time, the Mob Boss feels he may have underestimated Susan. He never thought the do-gooder was a threat.

Joey laughs with nervous fingers flying. "Fucking right! I'm bulletproof."

"To start with," says Rocco, "there's a snitch in jail that's fingered yous two."

"For what?" Eddie inquires.

"Contract to stick me." Rocco scoffs. "Lucky he screwed up."

Both Eddie and Joey gulp, swallowing guilty saliva. For Eddie wanted Rocco disposed of, so his 20% ownership could not be challenged. And Joey wanted Rocco out of the way, so that his brother could never come after his balls for having the affair with Sophia.

"And there's a number of credible witnesses like Rocco and Bubba that are ready to testify against you two criminals," Susan says. "As well Edward, the evidence that Timmy's Society collected on your murder of Joseph's wife is rock solid."

Hammer springs out of his chair. "What?" Joey glares at Eddie.

"She's lying," Eddie says. "You and I were together at your joint, the night she died at your home."

Joey scratches his head, attempting to bring back the memory of that confusing and drunken night. "But..."

Eddie goes on the offensive, pointing at Susan. "Killer, get her!"

The thirsty canine continues to lap up his coke.

"Even Killer sees the wind has changed direction," says Susan.

Killer barks in agreement.

"I'm still in charge." Eddie whips the gun out of his suit coat, steps up behind Susan. He points the barrel at her head. "This Godfather runs this show!"

Rocco rises, levels an immense finger at Eddie, and speaks in a confident tone, "Hand it over."

"Back off you Ape!" Eddie warns.

Rocco's gaze alone seems to be wilting Eddie. "Do the noble thing? Give it to me." The big man inches forward. "Do it for the family's honour."

Joey wonders if he has underestimated Rocco all these years? He doesn't like the confidence radiating from his younger brother. So, he'll step in and take charge. "Back off Rocco!" He swings his cane at his brother. He misses, smashing everything sitting on a tray on the table. Joey attempts another vicious swing of the cane.

Rocco catches the cane, sets it aside. Two powerful punches from Rocco leaves Joey sprawled out on the floor. "Wanted to do that for years." Rocco turns back to Eddie. "Put down the gun!"

The siren increases in intensity. A wild look fills Eddie's eyes. "If I'm going down. People are coming with me."

Killer slips up beside Eddie. The guard dog's nuzzling up to Eddie like he is all buddy-buddy again. Has that pooch changed sides one more time?

Killer leaps and rips a chunk from Eddie's arm. Eddie screams as his arm is wrenched. The gun goes off. This time, no window's broken. But Eddie clutches his chest, falling to the floor.

The gunshots stir Joey. He pretends to be out cold, slips his hand into his suit coat, removing his gun, real smooth like.

Rocco catches Joey's movement out of the corner of his eye. Joey's intent is clearly to kill his brother, gun aimed at his head. Rocco snatches up the cane with alarming speed. He swings at Hammer. All actions feel like they occur within a spit second.

The gun fires. The cane strikes Joey square on the head, sending him into another time zone. The bullet grazes Rocco's arm, carrying on to smash another window. Would investing in bullet proof windows be wise for Golden Eagle? It's another glass mess for the janitors to clean up. But this time, there's some crooked Mob blood to mop up as well.

Killer leaps on to Joey just in case Hammer comes to.

Agent Finder busts through the door with two other FBI Agents. All have guns drawn. Are these FBI boys always just a touch late for the real action?

Susan cries out in concern, "Rocco!"

"Just a scratch," Rocco says as he shrugs it off.

Susan stammers as she looks at her brother, "Thank, thank you."

"Just doing our job." Agent Finder kneels beside Eddie, and feels for a pulse. "He's dead."

Another FBI Agent feels Joey's pulse. "This chump's still ticking."

"Take him away," orders Agent Finder. "When he wakes up we've a long list of crimes to read to the crook. Only crime he wasn't in on was Timmy's beating."

It takes a few minutes as Eddie and Joey's bodies are removed. Joey begins to wake as he's carried out. He swears and flails until handcuffs are slapped on him. He is rushed out of the club. Suddenly, a piercing wail fills Golden Eagle. For Maria sees Eddie's dead body being whisked through the entrance and away from Golden Eagle.

"Poor girl!" Susan says. She turns to Agent Finder and asks, "Can we have five minutes?" He nods and shuts the conference room door, leaving Dick, Bubba, Rocco, Susan and Killer.

A terror stricken Dick cowers in his chair, chest rising and falling with short breaths. Susan glares at him for a long minute, making a steeple with her fingers.

Dick decides to go on the offensive, pointing at Susan. "Get, get her Killer!" He hopes that Killer's former fondness for him will motivate the canine to obey him. But puppy love is a fickle game.

Killer growls at Dick. The Rottweiler walks over to Susan. He waits to be petted.

"Eek!" Dick wets himself. Will poor Dick ever shed that nervous habit? He ruins his expensive red and yellow checkered pants.

Susan continues to glare at Dick, making his discomfort even greater. She sighs in absolute disgust, "Oh Dick. What to do with a weasel like you?" Rocco leans over the table and grabs Dick by the scruff of the neck.

"I, I never did nothing," Dick sputters.

Susan taps her fingers on that table. "The FBI have enough to make a solid case to put you away for a while. Not near as long as Joseph is going for. But a while."

"No, no I did nothing." Dick begins to cry. Rocco lets him go. The little fella slumps down in his chair.

"Or you can testify at the trial like Bubba," she offers. "And you can stay on at Golden Eagle."

Bubba smiles with his new set of dentures. "We'll support each other." The out-of-work bodyguard gently takes Dick's hand. "And we won't have to hide anymore."

"Oh thank you Bubba!" Dick hugs the big boy. "I'll testify too."

"Good idea!" Rocco grins as he looks at the coming out couple.

Dick relaxes. "Phew! I thought I'd be going..."

"But if you ever," Susan threatens. "Ever get out of line. We've enough to open a number of charges on you. Do you understand?"

"I, I do." Dick hangs his head.

"I'm serious Dick," Susan says. "The only reason I'm considering this is cause of Golden Eagle's new security guard Bubba. So don't screw it up!"

Bubba smiles as he realizes how short a time he was out of work.

"The other reason I'm giving you a chance Dick," continues Susan. "Time to stop living the many lies you've lived. It must have been tough. But, you can be a leader in the homosexual world. Maybe one day Palm Springs will accept you guys openly."

"Thank you!" Dick whispers. "I feel freed."

"Thank you as well Susan!" Big Bubba leans over and hugs his new-found love. "I'll make sure he doesn't stray."

"Excellent! Cause he's on an extremely short leash," warns Susan. "Now we've a few items to vote on quickly. She takes Rocco's hand. It looks like my fiancé and I are the only voters."

Twenty minutes later hop-along Billy and Rosa enter the conference room. Susan stands there, gazing out the window with Killer by her side. Upon seeing the two, Susan hugs Rosa. "Thank goodness you're all right."

"We came as fast as we could," Billy says.

"It worked out. And I want to congratulate you Billy. For you are the new General Manager of Golden Eagle. With a muzzled Dick as Head Pro on a trial basis. And Barb fully sponsored by the pack of cool cats and Golden Eagle when she's recovered."

"Wow!" Billy embraces Susan. "Thank you!"

Susan turns to Rosa. "And Rosa, sad to say, Edward's dead. Also, he was the murderer of your mother."

Rosa clasps her cross and mumbles, "That jerk!" Billy hugs his wife. For he knew of Timmy's suspicions. Except, he promised to not say a word to Rosa until more evidence could be gathered by the White Knight.

Susan touches Rosa's arm with heavy concern. "And unfortunately, your father will be doing a lot of time. I'm sorry."

"Oh Papa!" Rosa gasps, holding Billy tighter. "But, he knew what he was doing."

The caring Susan looks into Rosa's eyes. "Are you going to be okay?"

Rosa wipes away a tear. "I'll be okay. They deserve what they got. Especially Eddie! Sadly, one life taken, one life..."

Susan beams as she picks up on Rosa's meaning. "I'm so happy for you two."

"Why?" Billy inquires.

Rosa elbows him in the ribs. "Daddy!"

"Oh my God!"Billy hugs his wife even tighter, practically taking her breath away. "We're going to have a bambino!"

An excited Rosa and Billy hurry off to announce the good news to the family at Golden Eagle. They leave Susan alone with Killer. She pets Killer and says, "The first thing I'm going to do for you my new friend is get your doggy teeth fixed."

An excited Killer barks.

She strokes his soft coat. "And welcome to the real Golden Eagle family."

She considers how Golden Eagle is truly a family. They may be a dysfunctional family. But they're a family. She's so very pleased. All those who she loves are taken care of. Billy and Rosa are on their way. Barb can focus on the Pro Tour.

Susan studies the carnage in the room, counting broken items, realizing with the six shattered Golden Eagle cups Barb hit the dozen mark. She wins the Pebble Beach bet with Billy. Finally, the girl has broken through in the Billy betting game.

Susan pets Killer again. "Even Dick, may have finally found happiness."

Killer lets out a happy-for-them bark.

"But poor Timmy, unlucky in love, but hopefully, his movie career can take off. Unfortunate Maria, sweet naive Maria. She backed the wrong man."

Killer gives an agree-with-you bark.

"Will the White Knight and her reconnect?"

Killer shakes his entire body as if to say he just doesn't know. For Killer's dog sense only goes so far.

Susan tickles the dog's ear, reflecting on what an amazing ride has unfolded since the Corsini's purchased Golden Eagle. And what a rewarding ride for herself. The transformed Rocco and her are happily engaged. He'll be such a good stepfather to her daughter she thinks.

Also, she owns 100% of the Golden Grill. Between Rocco and her daughter, they now have 40% of Golden Eagle. And she, Susan Clark is now the Chairman, or is that the Chairperson of the Board. Susan feels great knowing she's the one driving the Golden Eagle bus for now. And she'll turn it over to Rosa when the mother-to-be is ready.

Susan ponders how she too can play a mean game of chess, not the kind Rocco plays. She chuckles. "Glad I made sure Vinnie had that unfortunate accident. There's no way I would leave it up to those incompetent clowns, Edward, Joseph and Sophia." She hugs Killer. "That Vinnie Corsini should have never threatened to cut my daughter, Virginia, out of his Will after he gave me the Golden Grill."

Killer acknowledges her confession with multiple knowing barks.

Four months later the hot new Hollywood star Timmy Raker finishes a heartfelt kiss with his beautiful new bride. What a passionate kiss! It sets the flashbulbs to popping! Billy and an already showing Rosa stand up for the beaming couple. The entire Golden Eagle family is there to share in the special day. Even a proud Dick and Bubba are their arm in arm, smiling for all to see.

Timmy looks his bride in the eyes and says, "I love you!"

The adoring bride turns to her husband. "And I love you! My White Knight!" The blonde Barracuda and recent winner of her first LPGA tournament lays a passionate kiss on her Hollywood hero.

Flashbulbs continue to go off. The Hollywood press have swarmed to the wedding. They are already calling this new celebrity couple, TimBar.
  1. CoachellaCrooked

