"This is a beautiful, [b]gorgeous[/b] lookin' thing," Mancini babbled "with a rack an' a rear like you wouldn't believe!" 

The mobster slowly climbed out of his chair, wandering over to the drinks cabinet that he kept in the corner. With shaky hands, he cracked it open, taking a swig of scotch straight from the bottle. 

"She's got one hell of a body, friend, and she ain't hooked on any chems or the like. The birds a little delusional, seems to have some kind of...[i]mental imparement[/i], so I don't have the time to deal with her." 

Mancini downed another mouthful. 

"Had to cut her tongue out, the loony bitch, stop her from mouthing off...I reckon someone like you could make good use of her though. Give her a special home, and all."