Page 88 of Bless This Hot Mess

“And what about you three?” Weinus fired back from across the desk. “Three middle-aged wannabes trying to flipthe script at the local radio station and dreaming you’ve got enough talent to catch the attention of real big city celebrities? Do you think you’ll ever walk a red carpet with Bryan Adams or the Barenaked Ladies? Or win a Juno with your drivel?”

“We are getting the attention we deserve–from Ricky Martin! And Sarah McLaughlin, Sugar Ray, and the Crash Test Dummies!” Rebekkah stammered. Just then, the bells on the front door jingled.

“Who could that be?” Betty said to herself and darted out of the room.

“My eleven o’clock?” Weinus guessed, grateful for the opportunity to end this unscheduled ambush and with dread slowly rising at the realization he hadn’t finished his homework for his arriving client.

Heavy footsteps crossed the creaky old wooden boards of the lobby, which groaned under the muscled mass of Mr. Rino Ferrari. His lavish scent arrived a moment before him as he strode in the door. He looked from person to person as if trying to piece together what kind of meeting might be taking place and why.

“Rino!” Trinity gasped.

“What are you doing here?” Japheth asked, suddenly aware of his posture.

“What am I doing here? I was on hold for fifteen minutes, so I decided to just drive over,” Rino said cooly, spreading his hands as if presenting the solution to a math problem.

“Mr. Ferrari, sir. I amsosorry. I meant to getrightback to you and then these meddling kids…” Betty stammered, trailing in the door.

“We’re not meddling! We’refixinga muddled mix-up!” Rebekkah protested.

“Wait. Are youfollowingus?” Ronald asked, suspicion flirting with worry.

“This is all Weinus’ fault. If he’s even a Weinus?! He’snotwho we thought he is,” Japheth said solemnly and crossed his arms, nailing Stanford with another death glare.

“Then who is he?” Rino asked, successfully hiding his amusement at Japheth’s bombast and bluster.

“He’s our lawyer! Or… we thought he was our lawyer!” Japheth replied.

“Well, that’s cozy isn’t it,Mi Tesoro? Weinus, Weinus, and Ware are my lawyers, too,” Rino said, smiling at Japheth and then at Weinus. It was a hard smile, without joy.

“Which one?” Japheth dared to ask.

“Stanford Weinus, this one right here. And this one right here is late. Again.” Rino said, jabbing a finger onto Stanford’s desk and leaving it there to make a point.

“Mr. Ferrari. I, ummm… I have those release forms for you. Yes! Don’t mind the coffee rings. If you just sign here… and here… and here!” Weinus said, producing documents that looked like they had already lived several lives.

“So, it’s done now? Fully executed?” Rino asked.

“Oh my God!” Rebekkah hissed in a whispered yell, clutching Japheth’s sleeve.

“Fully executed!” Weinus said proudly. “Well, half-executed. But I assure you, Betty and I will finish them off.”

“My family gives your family a lot of business, Stanford. Don’t we?” Rino asked, conversational as a loaded gun.

“Yes, of course you do!” Weinus swallowed hard.

“I’d appreciate it if I didn’t have to wait on hold for fifteen minutes during my workday–just let me know that you’re busy and call me back. I’d appreciate it if I didn’t have to call you and leave you messages for weeks–just to get a few little things executed,” Rino continued and gestured around theroom at Trinity, every syllable polished and punctuated with Italian musicality.

“Oh my God!” Rebekkah whispered again, because when in fear of your life, call the Big Guy on repeat.

“I’m a reasonable man. Don’t make me do something unreasonable. Like taking my family’s business to another law firm in Greater Napanee and the Land O’Lakes region.Capisce?” Rino said, his patient smile never moving.

“Capisce!” Stanford squeaked.

“And my little friends here.I miei piccoli amici. They’ve received a few demand letters from some record labels and musicians who have bees in their bonnets about some sampled music, so I need you to help them out,pronto. Put together responses–today–outlining their rights as parody performance artists and how the demands are frivolous.Capisce?” Rino instructed, his iron pointer finger still denting the desk with his demand to ensure he was indeed understood.

“Capisce!” Stanford repeated.

“Okay. That settles everything. Except for this,” Rino said, slamming the papers back down on the desk with the ceremony of a knighthood. “I think I’ve waited long enough. I’ve been very patient but delaying my gratification for so long really puts me on edge. Let’s take the edge off, shall we? It’s gonna feel good to finish. Weinus? Do you have a pen?”