by John Brooke
removed his putty colored, wide brimmed fedora,
lit a votive candle and placed it carefully
in his namesake Saints little shrine.
He was dressed in signature style, white chalk-striped
black suit with wide lapels and wearing
black and white spectators. Thadeus looked
every inch the Mobster Kingpin.
He fell to his
knees, bowing his head, put his hands together
and prayed Oh Saint Thaddeus, alias Jude,
please help me in my hour of desperate need.
Dear Jude, Patron Saint of Lost Causes and
Hopeless Situations, I pray for your
miraculous intervention today, per favore. Amen.
himself as a single tear trickled down his cheek,
struggled to his feet and slammed on his
fedora. He tapped the bulging shoulder holster
under his jacket. As he stormed out of his
trailer he muttered Must do my duty. Point
of family honor.
waddled between the big buildings to number seven.
A security guard opened the door for him. He
braced himself and stepped quickly into the set.
Right onto his tape marked place. The Director
shouted "Time! Mark! Action!"
by Robert De Niro, the mega star, walked onto the
set, a mocked up office of the Kingpin.
Overcoming his stage fright with divine help of
Saint Jude, Thadeus delivered his lines with
chilling grace. Good job, Carlos. You done
good. Now, goodbye, we dont need you no
His hand dove into the shoulder
holster and pulled out a
screamed the Director.