Now's the time to camp at my door wait for the chance to trash me. Go ahead and trash-talk me.
Whereupon I'll finally get the opportunity to hire a hitman. Seriously. A cool 3 thou to chop off a few hands? At least that's the going price according to recent news reports.
Or hire them from Gangsters Inc.
Who shall I chop up today?
New York has the Mafia and their pizza ristorantes. Tokyo has the Yakuza and their sake bars. Over here in Miri, we have the gangsters and the outdoor kopitiam called Gangsters Inc.
Ever had a burly tattooed gangster throw a pan of grilled chicken at your table? A surly waitress munching on bubblegum while she trims her painted nails on a kitchen knife? Anxious patrons huddled at the dark corners perched on their stools ready to escape in case of a gunfight?
Best of all - with the dozens of patrons beating down the doors - you actually have to call and make reservations at this exclusive joint. At least a day before. Or risk losing the table.
Paul : Hello, is this Gangsters Inc?
Gangsta : What's the matter with you? Don't tell me that you're that innocent. Because it insults my intelligence and it makes me very angry. Now, whaddayawant!
Paul : Could I make a reservation for five?
Gangsta : Bada-bing! Our food will blow your brains all over your nice Ivy League suit!
Paul : Uhh. Nice?
Gangsta : Leave the gun, take the cannoli!
Okay. Maybe a lil less Godfather and more Kung Fu hustle. Then the gangsta proceeds to whisper the directions to the secret cafe sotto voce - liberally sprinkled with vulgar profanities.
Truly service with a gap-toothed smile.