Debut novelist John Marshall knows from funny. As an Emmy-nominated writer specializing in late night comedy shows, Marshall has worked with the top of the top: The Chris Rock Show, Politically Incorrect, Tough Crowd with Colin Quinn and The Electric Company. He is a regular contributor to The Huffington Post, MAD Magazine and, in case you were wondering who wrote those fun comics in your bubblegum packs, Marshall’s your man, as a writer Bazooka Joe Comics. Here, we offer a sneak peek into his hysterically funny novel THE GREENFATHER, a send-up on all things mafia and green related.

Chapter 22

Officer Jones and Officer Bamfuscotchianograbolio stood on the sidewalk near 79th Street. It was 6 a.m. The East River was a few feet away.

“Quiet, ain’t it?” said Officer Jones.

“Think it’ll stay that way?” said Officer Bamfuscotchianograbolio.

“Nah,” said Officer Jones. “In this neighborhood? In this river? Something’s bound to turn up.”

“Hahahahahahaha,” said Officer Bamfuscotchianograbolio. Officer Jones made the same joke every morning, but he never got tired of hearing it. Actually, he did, but Officer Jones had seniority, so he figured he’d better laugh at it.

“Well, well, well. What have we here?” said Officer Jones. Down the sidewalk were two large men in black coats and black hats. They were headed toward the river’s edge.

“Two mob guys,” said Officer Bamfuscotchianograbolio. “What are they doing?”

The two men were struggling to lean over, looking in the water.

“We’re about to find out,” said Officer Jones. The cops started running toward the men. They caught up with them as one was sticking his finger into the water.

“Whatcha doin’ there?” said Officer Jones.

The man turned around. “Yo, Officer Jones!”

“Bulbous Benny!”

“How ya doin’?” said Bulbous Benny. “This is Diabetic Reynold.”

“Sure, I remember him,” said Officer Jones. “How’s the wife?”

“She’s good. Yours?”

“Aren’t you gonna introduce me?” said Officer Bamfuscotchianograbolio.

“I’m sorry,” said Officer Jones. “Bulbous Benny, Diabetic Reynold, this is Officer Bamfuscotchianograbolio.”

“What’s your name again?” said Diabetic Reynold.

“Officer Bamfuscotchianograbolio.”

“Officer Bamfuscotchianograbolia?”

“Officer Bamfuscotchianograbolio.”

“Ah,” said Diabetic Reynold. “I thought it was Bamfuscotchianograbolia. With an ‘a.’”

“What are you up to?” said Officer Jones. “Dumping a body?”

“Nah,” said Bulbous Benny. “Takin’ water samples.”

“Hahahahahahaha,” said Officer Jones.

“Hahahahahahaha,” said Officer Bamfuscotchianograbolio.

“No, seriously,” said Bulbous Benny. “Show him, Reynold.”

Diabetic Reynold opened his coat. Strapped to the insides were sample containers.

“It’s a new thing,” said Bulbous Benny. “The boss wants us to test the river for contamination or some shit.”

He took a container from Diabetic Reynold, scooped it into the river, and looked at the water.

“Yo!” said Bulbous Benny. “A fuckin’ bad pH balance.”

“You’re really not dumping a body?” said Officer Jones.

“You’re not gonna pay us off to look the other way?”

“For what?” said Bulbous Benny.

“My kid’s birthday’s coming up,” said Officer Jones.

“I hear you,” said Bulbous Benny. “But the Family ain’t payin’ off cops no more.”

“Why?” said Officer Jones. “Is it the economy?”

“It’s Frankie,” said Diabetic Reynold, who was scooping up some more of the river. “He’s into the environment. Hippie shit.”

“Excuse me, but did you just say the earth is hippie shit?” said Officer Bamfuscotchianograbolio.

“Easy, Officer Bamfuscotchianograbolio,” said Officer Jones.

“No, Officer Bamfuscotchianograbolia has a point,” said Bulbous Benny.

“Officer Bamfuscotchianograbolio,” said Officer Bamfuscotchianograbolio.

“Officer Bamfuscotchianograbolio,” said Bulbous Benny.

“How long are you guys gonna stay green?” said Officer Jones.

“Frankie is very committed,” said Diabetic Reynold. “To him, it ain’t a fad.”

“Will the Family ever go back to the way it was?”

“Sure,” said Bulbous Benny. “Frankie says he only wants to be boss for a short time.”

“Every boss says that,” said Officer Jones.

“Tell me about it,” said Diabetic Reynold. “Next thing you know, fifty years have gone by and they’re at their retirement party.”

“Do mob bosses have retirement parties?” asked Officer Bamfuscotchianograbolio.

“‘Retirement party’ is a euphemism for being whacked, Officer Bamfuscotchianograbolia,” said Diabetic Reynold.

“Officer Bamfuscotchianogra—”

“Don’t say your name again,” said Bulbous Benny. “It takes too much time.”

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