Tony, remaining in his hunched-over posture, hissed at Vito. Spittle flung from his decayed lips and pointy teeth as his gaze darted from the shotgun to Vito’s eyes.
Smith stood and turned to face Vito. “Don’t do anything stupid. My little friend here hasn’t eaten yet today, and he gets pretty cranky when he’s hungry. And I just know he’s looking at that gut of yours as a gourmet meal.”
“What the f**k is that?” Vito mumbled and rolled a bulge from his bottom lip and spit a wad of chewing tobacco onto the hallway floor at Smith’s feet. “Is that a f*****g Halloween costume or something, fella? He looks like a cross between The Exorcist and them zombie creatures from Dawn of the Dead.”
“Yeah, it’s a Halloween costume. Just go back to your little cubicle and—”
Vito arched his back, and his
