ALL THESE
BELEAGUERED
MILEPOSTS
Those Italian guys can just shake it all off - Milan to
Pavia, dealing with something. Carabinieris are watching
us n.ow Call off the waiter; I'd rather not eat here today.
This third bottle of Chianti was the clincher - just
a local red, probably cheap enough, but it runs like
a gasoline to the guzzling gullet. I'm done.
-
If they guys had a notion, they'd shoot me dead just for
being a stranger here now. I do like the girl one, though -
she was a gun looks like a soft-pillow pin-up for my
aching heart. If that other guy's name is really Alonzo
Malefioso I'll eat my own heart : that's such a fake
name I could puke. Don Corleone, where are you now?
-
Make mine fizzle with the local volcanic water.
Put anything else in there and I'll sure pass out.
Let me sleep, maybe three weeks ought to do it.
Ah, all these Italian plans and plains, hills and valleys.
Rick Steve's guidebooks made no mention of these.
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