[ WP ] You are a travelled drug-dealer in the state of New York and open a pizza place as a cover for a drug operation . In doing so , you find your true passion , making pizza .

Bobby was always hesitant with bad news. He seemed very hesitant to finish his current sentence. 
 
 `` And, uh, the only guy left alive at the cook-site was given a message for you.'' 
 
 He looked up at me. 
 
 `` It's the Chinese. The Dragons. And they know our headquarters is here. They're coming here next.'' 
 
 `` Those fuckin' chinks.'' 
 Brick chimed in, 
 
 `` Boss, we got ta hit them now, and we got ta hit them hard.'' 
 
 I heard yelling from the kitchen upstairs. 
 
 `` Just... give me a second.'' 
 
 I ran upstairs to the kitchen. Vincenzo and Ricky were arguing about something, until I smacked Ricky on the head and told them both to get back to work. Two cheese pies were about to burn in the oven, but I took them out just in time. 
 
 I saw a deep-dish pie was next on the order list. Ricky always makes the sauce too sweet for them and, well, I was already in the kitchen and it would only take two minutes to get it ready for the oven. 
 
 I came back downstairs. 
 
 
 `` Do n't worry, boys.'' 
 
 I undid my apron, and noticed I got sauce on my tie. 
 
 `` We're gon na retaliate. But not yet. If we're going to war, we need guns, ammo, men. We stay quiet for now. Build our munitions. Keep Gino's Pizza going strong.'' 
 
 
 `` About that, boss.'' Bobby interrupted. 
 
 
 `` We uh, well we sorta think you're taking this whole pizza thing a little too seriously. You seem to be getting kind of, uh, distracted. Maybe we should just turn it into a laundromat or somethin'.'' 
 
 I looked at Bobby. To the unfamiliar, what he had just said may have not seemed like much, but he had called me out in front of my own men. He directly questioned my ability as the leader of my crew, in front of everyone. 
 
 But more importantly, he suggested closing down Gino's. 
 
 `` What did you just say?'' 
 
 Bobby was taken aback, but silent. 
 
 `` Bobby, really, please, I'm asking you what the fuck did you just say to me?'' 
 
 `` I-I did n't mean nothin' by it, boss, I was just-'' 
 
 I grabbed him by the hair, and looked him deep in the eye. 
 
 `` Am I calling the shots or are you calling the shots, Bobby?'' 
 
 `` Y-you're callin' th- 
 
 I punched him square in the face, and grabbed a meat cleaver. 
 
 `` That's right! I'm calling the shots! Me!'' 
 
 I grabbed his arm and laid it on the desk. 
 
 
 `` And if you ever say some ignorant shit like that again,'' 
 
 I brought cleaver down fast into the wood next to his hand. 
 
 
 `` You're losing this fucking hand, understand me?'' 
 
 `` y-yes, yes.'' 
 
 Bobby was now crying, and his nose was bleeding. 
 
 
 `` Everyone get out.'' 
 
 My office cleared. 
 
 
 The truth was, I did n't want to do it. Not just hurt the kid, but the whole game. I did n't care for the violent life anymore. But the Dragons are ruthless. They'd tear this place down. If I wanted to protect Gino's I'd have to stay and fight this war. 
 
 People were gon na get hurt. People were gon na die. All just to keep some pizza place going. 
 
 I looked at the framed article on my wall. 
 
'Gino's Pizzeria Voted Best Slice In Brooklyn' 
 
 
 Well, not just some pizza place. 
 

