An odd panoply of dilletantes was assembled at the midtown coffee shop sipping Illy out of bespoke Kandinsky coppe:
"So anyways", Martin Luther went on, "jah, I had to hide out in that Benedictine platz after I iced out that Prussian.
The whole thing just kind of snowballed, before you know it you got revolutions all over the platz, now sleepy Joe is all about the oil fields and Vlad is an egomaniac or something, go figure."
"Same here", lamented Bernardino of Corleone, "only in my case it was a Greek guy trying to put up a passport office over on Lampedusa to block a bunch of my homies, seriously!! I mean!!!
I'm not like you, I don't have Merkel out in Wurtzburg giving me a penthouse to hide out in and calling it "the treaty of Westphal.".
So what happened?" said Luther. "I'm curious".
"yeah, Jesus forgave me and brought me some artichoke and anchovie pizza, it was kind of nice so I figured heute nacht ich blieben in diese stadt."
"Ermegerd! Sprachte deutsche!" Luther's face lit up like a tanenbaum.
Meanwhile, Roncalli was taking notes furiouly. "I better get this write", he said,-- "or is it right--Lord knows Bugnini didn't. --O waiter, can I have some biscotti?--Now, as I was saying, we need to clean up the language here."
"Hey, Gioa'", said the waiter, referring to the pope in the gerga of his own hometown as he extracted the biscotti from a large jar, "Can you say a few masses for my soul if I give you extra cookies?"
"No can do, dawg, Martino 'bout to pitch a hissy fit" said Roncalli."He doesn't even like my second breakfast 'cause he wants the money for his gf.
At that moment, Dud appeared with a case of almendra biscotti. Jackpot, she said with glee.
Joe's Coffee let me use the oven for a bake sale over at Saint Colombo's.
"Doesn't seem fair", Romero interjected, "my orto crew got gypped on the almonds and the gringo middlemen cashed out and bought manses in San Juan!"
That's why Angelo is gonna seed Union Square with fruit trees and stuff, said Dud.