You are escorted by two men inside a room with elegant furniture, so elegant that you, on your fruit vendor's salary, could never afford it. Sitting at a desk is Don Vincenzo, the local Mafia boss.

Mr. Annunziata! What a pleasure to see you here!

The room reeked of cigars and alcohol, as did the breath of Don Vincenzo; fat, old, and dressed in layers of fancy clothes too tight for him. A large sweat stain stained his shirt, on which rested a heavy golden crucifix.

It has come to my attention that you, Mr. Annunziata, have not paid the amount we require monthly. Do you know what this means?

The two men throw you to the floor.

You don't want to force us to dissolve your children in acid, would you, Mr. Annunziata?

Don Vincenzo was not joking, and he would not accept negative answers.