What’s a job you would like to do for just one day?
Confessions of a One-Day Mafia Don (Forgive Me, Father)
Look, I’m a Christian. I believe in turning the other cheek, loving thy neighbor, all that good stuff.
But sometimes — just sometimes — a little voice inside me whispers, “Wouldn’t it be fun to be a Mafia Don for one day?”
Not forever! Just one glorious, power-tripping, cannoli-stuffed day.
Then I’ll repent, return to Bible study, and maybe sponsor a soup kitchen. Pinky swear.
Here’s how my one-day reign of (mostly harmless) power would go:
7:00 AM — Wake Up Like a Kingpin
No alarm clocks here — I’m awakened by my personal violinist softly playing the “Godfather” theme at the foot of my bed.
I rise, wrap myself in a robe embroidered with “Don of Dons”, and accept an espresso from my loyal butler, who greets me with a respectful, “Buongiorno, Boss.“
Today, my only goal: Absolute domination… and maybe a nap.
9:00 AM — The Gathering of the Five Families (and Cousin Vinny)
I arrive at the sit-down in a stretch limousine longer than Noah’s Ark.
My captains and capos await me — all with slicked-back hair, pinky rings the size of golf balls, and suspiciously large “sports bags.”
Today’s agenda:
- Expand our front businesses (bakeries, pizzerias, maybe a daycare if we’re feeling ambitious)
- Remind a few forgetful clients of their “obligations” (strictly with words… mostly)
- Approve new uniforms: all members must wear matching pinstripes and sunglasses at all times. Even at night.
12:00 PM — The Power Lunch
We take over the fanciest Italian restaurant in town. (Sorry, reservations are for civilians.)
The Don — that’s me — is served first: a platter the size of a small moon, piled high with lasagna, meatballs, and enough garlic to ward off an entire vampire apocalypse.
At some point, I dramatically remove my sunglasses, look over my plate, and say to a trembling new associate:
“You come to me… on the day of my unlimited breadsticks… and ask for a favor?”
Everyone applauds. I take a bow.
2:00 PM — Handling “Business”
I sit in a massive leather chair, receiving guests who line up to “pay their respects” and make requests.
- One guy asks for help getting a better job. Approved.
- Another asks if I can “handle” his nosy neighbor. Denied — go love your neighbor, pal, this is the Christian Mafia.
- Some kid wants me to sponsor his Little League team. Not only do I sponsor it, I rename it: The Little Capos.
They leave kisses on my ring — or, because it’s allergy season, awkward elbow bumps.
5:00 PM — Giving Back to the Community
I gather the crew and march through the city handing out cannolis, paying off layaways, and tipping pizza delivery drivers like royalty.
Sure, we may look intimidating, but we’re just a bunch of softies in sharp suits with marinara stains on our ties.
Robin Hood wishes he was this stylish.
8:00 PM — Family Dinner: Mafia Style
The entire extended family — blood relatives and “business family” alike — piles into Nonna’s backyard.
There’s enough pasta to feed a Roman legion and enough loud arguing to shatter windows.
At some point, Uncle Sal tries to convince everyone he invented mozzarella. No one believes him.
We finish with a massive group prayer. Even the toughest wiseguys bow their heads, rosary beads clinking like pocket change.
10:00 PM — Closing Reflections
As the stars twinkle above, I lean back in my chair, puffing (pretend) on a cigar.
The day was thrilling. Delicious. Terrifying… mostly because of Nonna’s driving when she brought dessert.
Would I want this life forever?
No. Too stressful. Too messy. Too much dry cleaning.
But for one day, I was the Don.
And tomorrow, I’ll be right back in church, lighting a candle, and whispering,
“Forgive me, Father, for I have worn too much cologne and maybe bullied a Little League umpire.”
Amen.
Disclaimer: No real crimes committed. All cannolis were given freely. God is still firmly in charge.
📅 Official One-Day Don Schedule
| Time | Activity | Notes |
|---|---|---|
| 7:00 AM | Wake up to live violin performance | Only the “Godfather” theme is acceptable. |
| 8:00 AM | Espresso + Cannoli Breakfast | Protein? Never heard of it. |
| 9:00 AM | Mafia Family Sit-Down | Pinstripes required. Sunglasses encouraged. |
| 12:00 PM | Power Lunch at the Italian restaurant | Bonus points for intimidating the waiter. |
| 2:00 PM | Handle Business (a.k.a. Approve favors) | Kiss the ring or no cannoli for you. |
| 5:00 PM | Community Outreach: Random Acts of Cannoli | Be scary and generous. |
| 8:00 PM | Massive Family Dinner | Loud arguing = signs of love. |
| 10:00 PM | Reflect, Repent, Repeat (next lifetime maybe) | Confess: “Forgive me, I was fabulous.” |
📜 The Commandments of the One-Day Don
- Thou shalt never disrespect the cannoli.
(Always take it. Never refuse it.) - Honor thy consigliere and thy capo.
(But still make it clear you run the show.) - Thou shalt wear pinstripes like armor.
(Even while napping. Especially while napping.) - Thou shalt speak softly and carry a big pasta fork.
- Forgiveness is divine — but forgetting? Fuggedaboutit.
- Thou shalt accept kisses on thy ring with grace (and sanitizer).
- Thou shalt keep Sunday sacred — for sauce making and family feasts.
- No horse heads, no concrete shoes — only spicy verbal warnings.
- Always leave the gun… but absolutely never leave the cannoli.
- Thou shalt always, always repent before bedtime.
R-Rated Religion 