Ray Liotta and Gilbert Gottfried enter Heaven. Gilbert says, “Who saw Sudden Adult Death Syndrome coming? But I’m supposed to believe mob actors are dying peacefully in their sleep now? That death wish feels rather wishy washy to me Ray. That’s like Johnny Sac wishing he could blame lung cancer on his wigger son’s Cyprus Hill record collection, since he became an unemployed DJ on the Jersey Shore. Can I call you Ray? My hit cameo in the Sopranos movie never scored me an invite to Rao’s.” Ray Liotta says, “You weren’t in the Sopranos movie.” Gilbert replies, “James Gandolfini’s kid was less menacing in it than the Aflac duck. So, what difference does it make? Hillary Hammertime Cankles lives but were not in hell, not that my people believe in that. Being stuck in the 2nd Avenue deli with Benji from the Howard Stern show who expects immediate fawned upon service was hellish enough.” Ray Liotta says, “But I thought your people didn’t believe in Heaven either. God must have hooked your less annoying half.”
Gilbert says, “Don’t you have some coke to hide up your ass? Before Paulie wakes up in a hellish mood after realizing that he sold his soul to the devil, so his daughter could win an Oscar for playing a jezebel whore in a Woody Allen film with a queen’s accent, after attending Harvard university off his 2 seconds of screentime kissing dago wap bastards between staring seriously and stuffing his fat face in Goodfellas. Pauli, your precious Godfather, is like the Sulkin Stromboli who sporadically talks.” Ray Liotta says, “I hope God grants me black out powers like he did for Jimmy Cann in the seventies and eighties. Because you’re more annoying than Paulie from the Sopranos on instant messenger with his new Canadian shrink that he got on the cheap because of nationalized healthcare “Tony takes me for granted Pierre. And I’m the one who introduced him to bialys after Carmella urged him to take it easy on the carbs during the Atkins craze diet fad in the nineties. Bialys are anorexic bagels, and twice as delicious, fuckin forget about.” Goodfellas Grumbling, Challah. Thanks for the memories fellas and for giving New Yorker characters a cool name, very, very much.