Vincent tilted his first class seat back and ordered a drink.
Seated next to him was a man who looked familiar, but who he could not exactly place. Finally, curiosity got the better of him and he said, "You look familiar to me, but I cannot exactly place you."

"I am," the man said, the musical diector of the Metropolitan Opera of New York.

"Of course," Vincent said, "and I'm....."
"Vicent Corleone....mi dispiasce la noticia di Don Michaele."
"Grazie."
Not one to mince words, Vincent immediately began talking about his cousin Anthony, who was still doing operas in Europe, but had never played at the Met.
"It would do my late uncle a great service if you could grant one small favor."
"What is that?"
"Give VIncent the lead tenor role in La Traviata."
"That I cannot do, and I'll tel you why."

He was becoming agitated. "Anthony Corleone ruined one of the MEt's grratest protogees' a natural tenor. We had him taking singing lessons, acting lessons, and along comes Anthony with his guinea charm and olive oil voice and they run off like the two finnocchios they are. And just to show you its not all dollars and cents, let me tell you this...he was young, he was beautiful, he was the best piece of stuff I ever had and I've had 'em all over the world." So you tell that Dago goombah I'm gonna run him out of the business. Now you get outta here and go ride in coach!