A tourist wanders into a back-alley antique shop...
A tourist wanders into a back-alley antique shop in San Francisco's Chinatown. Picking through the objects on display he discovers a detailed bronze sculpture of a rat. The sculpture is so interesting and unique that he picks it up and asks the shop owner the price. "Twelve dollars for the rat, sir," says the shop owner, "and an extra thousand for the story behind it." "At that price, you can keep the story, old man," he replies, "but I'll take the bronze rat." The transaction complete, the tourist leaves the store with the bronze rat under his arm. As he crosses the street in front of the store, two live rats emerge from a sewer drain and fall into step behind him. Nervously looking over his shoulder, he begins to walk faster, but every time he passes another sewer, more rats come out and follow him. By the time he's walked two blocks, at least a hundred rats are at his heels, and people begin to point and shout. He walks even faster, and soon breaks into a trot as multitudes of rats swarm from sewers, basements, vacant lots, and abandoned cars... following him. Rats by the thousands are at his heels, and as he sees the waterfront at the bottom of the hill he panics and starts to run full tilt. No matter how fast he runs, the rats keep up, squealing hideously now not just thousands but millions, so that by the time he comes racing to the water's edge a trail of rats twelve blocks long is behind him. Making a mighty leap, he jumps up onto a lamp post, grasping it with one arm, while he hurls the bronze rat into San Francisco Bay as far as he can throw it. Pulling his legs up and clinging to the post, he watches in amazement as the seething tide of rats surges over the breakwater into the sea, where they drown. Shaken and mumbling, he makes his way back to the antique shop. "Ah sir, you've come back for the story," says the owner. "No," says the tourist, "I was just hoping you had a bronze sculpture of a lawyer "

A story behind a gun
Big Louie the Torpedo was becoming increasingly curious about one of the newer members of his mob, Benny the Rod. Benny had been in the business for many years in another part of the country. During that time he had garnered quite a reputation for being the most conscientious and honorable hit man available. He was also considered quite eccentric, perhaps odd, in that for the last ten years or so he always kept one hand in his pocket - clutching his cold steel weapon in readiness (hence the nickname, Benny the Rod).

When Benny arrived at Louie's office, the question was put to him.

"So what's the story with you and this here gun of yours, eh? Like, are you scared or somethin' or you just want to always be ready or what?"

"Not scared ..." Benny growled, "been doin' it dis way ever since me sister-in-law's weddin' 'bout ten ten years ago now".

"Oh yeah? ... so ...?"

"Well, I used ta know her fiance at da time - a no good chisler. He never even loved the goil so much ... but he made her happy and so I kept me mouth shut about it", Benny explained.

Louie leaned in, expecting the point of the matter.

"And since dat time I gotta do it dis way".

"But WHY?!", Louie finally demanded?

"Well, I was at da wedding", grumbled Benny, and I wasn't about to say nuttin' about it then, so now I gotta do like da preacher said ...

"Speak Now or Forever Hold Your Piece!"