The Worst Joke Ever

Brian settled into the chair at the head of the table. As he looked upon the five men seated at the other end of the table, he couldn't keep his thoughts completely from Deanna, and their unborn child. He just knew he had to prevail here, in this meeting, but he was quite confident he would.
At the top levels of the Simprano crime syndicate, the true day-to-day power was wielded by five Underbosses. All cat burglars, street hawkers, counterfeiters, getaway drivers... all the rank and file answered either directly or indirectly to these five men. Whom in turn, answered to one person.

Brian.
"Gentlemen," he said, without preamble. "I've called this meeting for a very specific reason." He got up and walked around the five men seating around the table, and when he returned to his place at the head of the table, he pulled out a file from one of the syndicate's archives.

"It involved the termination contract on this woman," he said, as he pulled a picture of a red-haired woman with blue eyes out of the folder and pushed it and the file into the middle of the table. "I am here to inform you all that this contract is to be considered dissolved. This woman, and all her family, are to left alone by us, for now, and forever."

The five of them leaned over the table to read the file. The two elders at the table, Sluggo and Meathead, glanced briefly at the picture in recognition, and then back to me without a word, and assumed a neutral look on their faces. Bucketshoes, in the white suit barely gave the picture a second look - he was one of the more recent Underbosses, and this matter had been before his time. The two nearest to Brian's position at the table, made no attempt to hide their surprise.
"You're lifting the death mark on this woman?" the one on Brian's right, named Fishbait, asked incredulously. "Her testimony put Dredge and Sludge away for life for taking care of that old floater. She's got to pay for that!"

"Yeah, Dredge is my cousin," Coffin replied, on Brian's left. "He's gonna be locked up in that drywall-decorated six by four cell for the rest of his life thanks to her. Why should we let her off?"

"Because any harm done to her now would be meaningless. I have it on good information that her memory was lost, completely and irrevocably, due to the previous attempts to carry out the contract on her. For all intents, that woman is dead now, and her body is inhabited by a new woman who has done us no wrong."

Coffin snorted slightly, yet deferentially. "Are we supposed to ignore that she looks a lot like the woman you rescued from that asylum?"

Brian paused for a minute, then casually touched his finger to his lips. "Coffin, where is your father now?"
"My father?" Coffin replied. "He's home, in our villa, enjoying his retirement."

Brian tapped his fingers together. "And *why* specifically, is he home?"

The protest drained from Coffin's face as he understood what his Leader meant. "Because... because you forged the documents necessary to give him an alibi for the night he carried off his greatest smuggling score."

"And, given that, do you continue to object to lifting the contract on this woman?"

Coffin sighed, then got up from the table and bowed to Brian. "No, Leader. I will obey your decision."
Fishbait watched this display with disdain, then walked toward Brian. "I continue to object to lifting the contract on this woman. I don't care that she is your wife. This contract predates you. I will not consider it dissolved until it is carried out." He stood there defiant, looking Brian in the eye.
Brian had planned for this - he'd honestly planned on more than two objections, but Meathead and Sluggo hadn't reached such an advanced age in the service of the syndicate by opposing the Leader when he said what was to be. He got up, and walked over to the defiant Fishbait, who stood with his arms crossed.

It was time for a little Carp Diem. Brian reached inside his uniform, and took hold of something he held very close to his heart. Its surface felt slightly cold, but Brian grabbed its tail end with confidence, feeling the strong scales in his hand. With a move almost too fast to see, he brought it out and applied it with force to the side of Fishbait's head.
The sound of the dead fish hitting the side of Fishbait's head echoed in the room the way only a blow with a dead fish could. That is to say, not at all, but it still got the point across. So to speak.

Fishbait's eyes were wide when he realized what had just happened. His Leader had just hit him upside the head with a dead fish. "Holy mackerel!" he cried, as he stumbled to his knees.

"Bass, actually," Brian said, putting on his most commanding tone. "I did not hit you just for the halibut, but to remind you of some of the... corrective remedies I have available to me, as Leader. Do you need to experience.... any others?"

With those words, Fishbait's head went utterly white, and he dropped to his knees again, begging for forgiveness.
"Please, Leader, no more. I have realized the error of my ways, and wish your forgiveness. If you say this woman is to be spared, then spared she shall be, for all time."

(Now will be a small intermission, where small ice creams in very large boxes will be sold)
"Wait wait wait. Let me get this straight. You've guaranteed our safety.... yours, mine, our unborn child's, and that of any other relatives you or I may have, forever, by hitting one of your underbosses upside the head with a stuffed fish?"

"Bass, actually..."

"Bass, trout, catfish, triple-speckled-Wrightian-sporefish, it doesn't matter. Brian, this is the craziest thing I've ever heard, and that's coming from someone who spent several months locked in an asylum with Anne."
"Well, it wasn't just that, my love," Brian tried to explain. "It was the threat of the 'other methods' available to me that caused him to give up in terror."
"What other methods? You told me it's not worth the time to make sure someone stays dead. What 'other methods' could there be?"

In response, Brian moved to the bookcase, and took an old volume out of it. He did not open it, but turned and put it on the coffee table."This book contains much of the rules and traditions of Leader of the Simprano crime family. Even Leaders such as myself are bound to follow its guidelines, and respect its lessons from Leaders and Dons from ages past. I was required to read it as part of my indoctrinations, cover to cover. Now, if you read the section I've marked with the bookmark, you'll see why we are totally safe."

With a raised eyebrow, Deanna picked up the book and walked (well, waddled) over to the couch with it and sat down. She opened the book to the marked page, and read what it said there. She glanced at Brian, then resumed reading, a smile coming to her tanned face. Brian walked over and sat next to her as she read.
"Do you believe it now, Deanna?" Brian asked. "Those five words *will* keep my Underbosses in line, and through them, all my henchmen, everywhere, for all time, even if I quit my job."

Deanna smiled, and then closed the book, and scooted over closer to her husband. "I do understand now. I believe you, more than ever. We are truly safe."
"Now, we can think about other things... such as, what to name the baby?"

"We can't plan that yet, Brian. We don't know if it will be a boy or a girl."

"Well, it's bound to be one of the two...."

"Smart aleck."

"Your smart aleck."