You came to me with your family. In peace. We talk, eat, we have a friendly sit down.
I feel it is good, and we laff all night. Like family, capisci?
Wifes talk, yada yada yada – and our kids play like brothers and sisters. I bring out the good wine, the good whiskey. Treat you like family.
Then I wake up and – hey! – waddayaknow? You have left scarves and shit in my home. Like you piss territory, in my home?!
You give me no choice, Don Vittore. I have your knitted item of preference, and I am keeping it hostage, until you pay me respect. Lemme lay it down for you:
I want a lunch, at a good locale in Lund, WITH a beer, within twenty days.
Or I will have my little knife friend talk to your little scarf, and feed him to the fishes. Capisci?