Yeah, this ain’t so bad, see. I’m still the boss, still the big cheese. I used to be the king of Chicago, now I’m the king of the jungle. Yeah, that’s right, seems I’m a friggin’ lion now.

 Don’t ask me. One minute I’m sitting by the pool at my Palm Island estate, but not feeling that great come to think, and next thing I know I’m a goddamned lion. Still, at least I don’t have the clap no more. First thing I checked.

 So I’m living in this goddamned cave, out on the edge of the desert. First time I go out to have me a bite to eat, y’know, I realize, wait a minute, I’m a lion. I mean, it ain’t like I can just go over to Harry Caras and get me a steak. Shit, I was gonna have to kill somethin’. Not that I ever had a problem wackin’ mugs but Christ I never used to eat them afterwards. Besides if I kill something how am I gonna cook it? I’m used to finest cuisine, I don’t wanna be chomping on no raw gazelle.

 But eventually I’m so hungry, I dunno I think I go a little crazy. I catch this antelope thing, everything goes red, the next thing I know I’m lying there next to a disgusting pile of bones and guts and shit. But at least my stomach’s full. So, I used to be Al Capone, now I’m Al Capone the lion. I can still do anything I want. Ain’t nobody gonna push this pussycat around.

 On my way back to the cave, son of a bitch it’s like I stepped on a thumb tack, only worse. I look down and there’s this big assed thorn, size of your thumb, sticking out my paw.

 I manage to hobble back to the cave and when I get there wouldn’t you know it, just my luck, I just ate - at no considerable inconvenience to myself I might add - and here they’ve delivered! There’s this guy just sitting in my cave. Some asshole wearing a ragged little dress. Anyway the faggot looks real scared when I stroll in. I like that. Reminds me of the old days. What? No the scared part, not the dress. Pay attention why don’tcha?

 So lucky for him I’m not hungry no more and anyway my paw is hurting like a son of a bitch. I lay down and try to get hold of the thorn with my teeth, but nothing doing. The stiff is watching me and he starts edging toward me, the whole time staring at the thorn. Well he don’t exactly look like any doctor I ever saw, but I start to thinking maybe he can help me. Sure enough he reaches down, gets hold of that thorn and pulls that sucker clean out. You have no idea how much you miss having a thumb until you don’t have one. Of course Fat Louie found out that the hard way but then he never should have tried to pull that grift in me. Anyway, once that thorn is out of the paw, man that feels good. Plus I’m so full of antelope and comfortable now that I decide to take me a nap. When I wake up the guy’s gone, which is probably just as well ‘cos I’m hungry again.

 So one day I’m walking past this outcrop of rocks and this big goddamned net falls right over me. I’m thrashing around trying to get free when these faggots in little skirts with broom handles on their heads, for chrissakes, start jabbing at me with spears and I’m getting real mad when some mug hits me hard in the back of the head and out go the lights.

 Next thing I know, I’m waking up with the king of headaches in what looks like some kind of a goddamned zoo. So I have me a roar or two, just to let the local wildlife know who’s boss. Turns out though that if I want eat I have to work. Not that the work is anything too difficult, not for a lion. I just have to go out into this big bullring sort of place where there are all these boobs running around screaming and shitting themselves. There are also a whole lot of people watching, like an audience. So, what am I now, in a circus? Well in a kind of way yeah, I am. Some more of those guys with the long spears make it pretty clear it’s in my best interest to rip these screaming guys to pieces. So I oblige.

 Things go on like this for a while. Then one day, son of a bitch, into the ring comes the guy from the cave, the very same guy that pulled the thorn out of my paw. Recognize him right away, I do. Well, what am I gonna do? I’m standing there staring at him and he was staring back at me and I realize he’s so shit scared he doesn’t recognize me. Mind you, I’m quite a big bigger than last time, those Christians are fattening. So I raise my paw and lick it. I try raising an eyebrow but I’m not exactly sure lions can do that. Anyway, suddenly he stops shaking and this dumb grin comes over his face. And I’m thinking you are one lucky goofball. Not only do you pull a thorn out of a lion’s paw without getting eaten, you pull a thorn out of a lion’s paw who used to be Al Capone. Because if there’s one thing that’s hard and fast in the mob, it’s that if you do me a favor, then I owe you a favor.

 So I walk up to the mug and make like a big house cat, purring and rubbing against him so hard I almost knock him over. The crowd is going nuts and nobody knows what the hell to do, but in the end the emperor does something with his thumb and they lead me and the boob out of the ring. Whaddya know, they let us both go free.

Now here I am, back on my old turf, or rather scrub and sand, out here on the edge of the desert. So anyway, look, I gotta get going. Could have sworn I just caught a whiff of lioness broad. So, mind how you go, and mind who you are. You ever need a favor, you know where I am.