It's just this little chromium switch, here... (derspatchel) wrote,
It's just this little chromium switch, here...

Buddy Cianci: A face you can trust

One of the funnier stories that's come out this week is that everybody's favorite mob mayor, Buddy Cianci, will be in charge of sales and marketing for XV Beacon, a totally classy luxury boutique hotel somewhere on Swanky Street here in Boston.

That is, he gets the job once he's released from his five-year federal prison sentence.

Oh, Buddy! We love you and your lovably corrupt ways. An openly corrupt city government, such as Cianci's in Providence or Honey Fitz's in Boston back at the turn of the 20th century, is a government that Gets Stuff Done and doesn't have to play the hypocritical moral high road card. None of that indignant denial, none of that "I am shocked, SHOCKED to discover gambling going on here!", just a "Hey, you want a favor from Buddy? C'mon down and bring yer checkbook." Just don't get him thinking that you're fooling around with his wife, or he'll go after you with an ashtray and fireplace log. No kiddin.

By the way, his former wife's name is Nancy Ann. One can only hope that Nancy Ann Cianci is now helping Bob Loblaw with his law blog.

Anyway. Universal Hub, which is giggling as loudly as anybody over the idea of Buddy being an upscale pitchman, is running a commercial contest which invites readers to send in their own commercials featuring Hizzoner and the hotel. Here's my entry, written in under 20 minutes thanks to a 30-minute lunch break:


(FADE IN on Uncle BUDDY CIANCI, in the lobby of the XV Beacon boutique hotel.)

BUDDY: Hi there! Buddy Cianci here for Ecks Vee Beacon, the new
luxury boutique hotel in downtown Boston, Massachusetts. Now you're
probably wondering, hey Buddy, for a mayor who never forgot
Providence, what are you doing so far up 95? Well, I'll tell you. For
the past few years I've learned quite a bit about personal
accommodations, believe you me. And when I took a look at this new
luxury hotel, well, I realized that compared to a cell at Fort Dix,
this place is paradise. I mean, just look around at all the fancy
stuff they got crammed in here. Look over there. That's real gold, I
bet! And this is just the lobby! You oughta see the rooms -- hell,
let's go check out a room now. Hiya, elevator operator!

(CIANCI approaches an ELEVATOR OPERATOR who has the misfortune to be
in the lobby right about now.)

OPERATOR: Hello, Mayor Cianci! Don't hit me.

BUDDY: I want to show the nice television people out there one of the
suites. So let's take 'em up to one, shall we? How about, say, the
29th floor?

OPERATOR: Well, Mayor Cianci, sir, we don't have that many floors, we
just have--

BUDDY: Don't make me light a cigarette.

OPERATOR: 29th Floor it is! Be careful of the doors, please.

BUDDY: See that kind of service? That's personal service for just the
type of person you are. And did you hear that? Twenty-nine floors!
That's big for a building, people. And lemme tell you some more about
the joint: Situated in a 1903 Beaux Arts Building that juxtaposes
cutting-edge technology with extraordinary Jeffersonian styling,
Fifteen Beacon is-- oh, what the hell does that mean, anyway? Put
down the freakin' cue card, Fingers.

FINGERS (off-camera): 'Kay.

BUDDY: All I'm trying to say is folks, this place is pretty damn swank and
if you don't believe me, come on over and take a look.

OPERATOR: Here we are, 29th floor! It's just mistakenly labeled as the 8th.

BUDDY: There, that wasn't so tough, now, was it?

(BUDDY exits the elevator with FINGERS close behind. Suddenly FINGERS
stops and drops the ELEVATOR OPERATOR cold with one to the jaw. BUDDY
turns around, fishes out a wad of bills from his pocket, peels off a
$20, crumples it up and throws it at the kid.)

BUDDY: Get something nice for your mothah. Now, folks, check out this
beautiful corridor. The hotel designers coulda skimped, you know,
they coulda just said "Oh, it's a hallway, nobody cares enough about
it for us to take the time and make it look special" but they didn't.
These furnishings and accents are A-plus class all the way! This
wallpaper's pretty classy. It's all my cousin's work, by the way.
Don't he do a fine job? He's a good kid.

(BUDDY, FINGERS and the CAMERA have stopped at a door.)

BUDDY: Now let's take a look at some of the accommodations you can expect
when you're up here luxuriating in luxury.

(BUDDY opens the door and begins to show the room off.)

BUDDY: This sweet suite is 900 square feet with a rainforest shower,
whatever the hell that is, plus whirlpool tubs, and in the bedroom--

(The BEDROOM DOOR is opened to reveal a COUPLE IN BED.)


(In a furious rage BUDDY runs to the FIREPLACE, grabs the LOG out of
it, and hurls it at the two in the bed, who are thankfully now
off-camera. The COUPLE screams.)


WOMAN: It burns, oh God, it burns!

(BUDDY peers a bit closer at the two.)

BUDDY: Oh, my apologies! I thought you was my wife. And I didn't
know that thing was lit.

(BUDDY peels off four bills from wad and throws them on the bed.)

BUDDY: There, go get some aloe vera. C'mon, Fingers, let's go show
off the lounge instead.

(The group leaves the suite and heads back for the ELEVATOR, which is
now empty.)

BUDDY: Looks like you're driving, Fingers.


(The ELEVATOR begins to descend.)

BUDDY: You know, it's a funny thing I found a log in their fireplace.
They told me the one in my room was just for show and that's why it
would stay empty.

(We're back in the LOBBY and are now walking towards a RESTAURANT.)

BUDDY: Back on terror firmer! Now you may think that all this place
has going for it is classy rooms. Well it's also got the finest in
fine cuisine anywhere. Why, featured here is a restaurant called The
Federalist, but I don't think I can go into there since I've crossed
state lines. But it's also got a wine cellar!

MAITRE'D: Actually, sir, the name of the restaurant is The Wine Cellar.

BUDDY: Holy crap! You got a restaurant IN your wine cellar?

MAITRE'D: The restaurant IS the Wine Cellar, sir.

BUDDY: That's a stupid thing to call a restaurant. Get us a table!

MAITRE'D: Right away, sir.

(FINGERS drops the MAITRE'D with a sucker punch to the gut. BUDDY
pulls out his roll of bills and peels off a few, which he throws at
the MAITRE'D on the ground.)

BUDDY: And we'd like a nice table, if you know what I mean.

(FINGERS and BUDDY ignore the MAITRE'D anyway, step over his prone
form, and head into the dining room, where they take any table they

BUDDY: Some of this wine is real old, folks, so you know it's good.
And the food, why, mama mia! So good you'll swear you weren't in
Boston. Plus I hear their marinara sauce is out of this world.

MAITRE'D (beckoning a waiter over): "Clemenza" is in the building,
repeat, "Clemenza" is in the building. Be sure the kitchen opens a few
jars of Mayor's Own Marinara.

(A tall man in a BUSINESS SUIT and a bulging BRIEFCASE approaches the table.)

TALL MAN: Cianci.

BUDDY: Senator. You, uh, got the iPods?

TALL MAN (tapping briefcase): Certainly do.

BUDDY: Well, folks, it looks like we're going to have to wrap our tour
up a bit early. We have to wait for our meal and you can't rush food
that good and besides, it looks like I've got some work to do while I
wait, anyway. So you come on over to the Ecks Vee Beacon, right on
Beacon Street in Boston. There's a taste of the vig waiting just for

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