He was seventy-three and somewhat regal. His name was Vito and the proud Sicilian drove a pristine Cadillac and sported a pinky ring.
He was many things, but not mafioso.
As he slid out of the barber’s chair after his weekly shave and haircut, a thunderous crash sent glass everywhere. The Chevy flew into the shop and pinned the recently-occupied barber’s chair against the wall—the confused driver still behind the wheel.
Once the crash victim had been taken away, Vito generously tipped the barber.
“That was a—
“Don’t say it, Vito,” said the barber. “Please.”
“A close shave.”
Prompt: A close shave