…Not only the Italian men do never jerk off (not even when they are boys), or so they say, Italian men do not fuck with hookers, or so they say. But if one want to pass in some “highway” where those women work the street at night, and even in the evening, there are such long raws of cars, such traffic jams, that it is literally impossible to arrive home with less than a hour of delay. One could use that time to fuck one of those street hookers, since the time spent in the jam is more or less the same, before getting back home for dinner. If Italians do not fuck hookers, what would they be doing, lining up, by the thousands, right where the whores beat the road at night?
Francesco Paolo Mazzei’s justified concerns involved also a frightening issue: his brother in low, the private, independent, so to say, accountant, the business consultant, could have been, should have been, spying on him at night as well as during the day.
Perhaps Mazzei’s ex partner, L.T. Marognoli, had not shown up at the airport for this reason and not the other? He had told him hundreds of times “I do not talk to your lawyer, I do not want to talk to your accountant, I do not want to be introduced to any of your whatever professional collaborators, I am not going to meet your accountant…” and the reason was quite obvious. According to the new regulations, and those unjust new laws were enforced in no less than 100 countries around the world, and in all at the same time, “your own lawyer, your own accountant, your own trusted professional, notary, financial consultant, whatever his/her qualification might have been, he had to spy on you, because that was exactly what the new laws forced him/her to do. “Investigate on your customer’s activities and report to the so called authorities”. Telling your customers about this new spying activities was already an offense in itself. Marognoli told him, Mazzei’s trump-lawyer-lover, who would have been his third wife, she also told him, and yet he had decided to take him with them, assuring himself the need to refrain from laying hands on those spicy asian asses available at the Amazonia and all around that small hot area in Wan Chai. Lisa was waiting for him without even knowing him and he would have had the best sex experience in his entire life, if he only could have found a way to get rid of those two useless companions.
According to the meaningless statement they gave to the police, the three “men”, and not the woman, they went to the bank right after having completed the VISA’s formalities at the Hong Kong airport. At the bank, at the Hang Seng bank, they were told what they should have known it all already. The company director, their company director, who happened to be also the only nominee share holder of the company, had closed the bank account already, precisely because Francesco Paolo Mazzei, one of the 3 men mentioned before, had asked him to do so, just a couple of nights before, via email. He had asked him, but as it frequently happened with the Italians, “”they say something they do not mean for real, or perhaps they ask you to do something while they are thinking you wouldn’t do it for real, as well es anyone of them wouldn’t do it, or they say it just to test you, to see if you really are going to do it, or if you really are capable of doing it.
Marognoli, their partner and real business consultant, was perfectly capable of doing it, he was the director, not the nominee director, the real and sole director of the company, and although he was also the nominee shareholder of the same corporation, as well as the only (real) director, he had all the powers needed to do whatever he wanted to do with all the company’s assets, no matter what.
Mazzei had to appear “shocked” at the unexpected news and that he was “shocked” was state on the complaint filed by him and his associated at the Wan Chai police station. The only evidence he could have had presented was that he was “shocked”. And he was not actually “shocked” as he pretended to be, because he had been notified about the closing of that bank account two days before already. He was stressed because he had no guide for the night, nobody escorting him in the evening, nobody introducing him whores and dancers at the Amazonia and at the other bars nearby where everybody was “looking for strange”. Such a frustration should have been expected, since the fact that Marognoli did not want to meet him along with his accountant-brother in low and had had no intention of spending the night with the bunch of them.
And yet, after half a year spent jerking off in Italy, after 15 hours flying, he was hoping to meet his partner anyhow, at the airport, or at least at the Amazonia, and to try to have a nice evening, pretending that nothing had happened. He was alone, instead, with the other two clowns, now, and he had to arrange everything by himself, including the action with the spicy asian asses operating in Wan Chai…