Spell It Out, MF

I'd be shitty at any job where things are inferred with raised eyebrows or knowing looks, be it mobster, cop or reporter. Anything like that would either go right over my head, or I'd need things with real consequences spelled out for me. For instance, if I was part of Tony Soprano's gang, I'd drive him crazy.

Tony: This shit ends TONITE! Got it?!? (scans over the 3 or 4 of us, his slow, knowing look landing directly on me.)
Xmas: You got it, T! (We shuffle out. Right before the door, I stop and turn around.) Ahhhh, Tony....by 'ends tonite," you mean, ahhhhh....? (raised eyebrows back to Tony)
Tony: Yeah, fucking take care of it!
Xmas: No problem T! It's done! DONE! (We're out out the door, I turn back, poke my head back in through cracked door) uuhhmmmmm....sorry T, but...just so we're clear, you want me to...
Tony (aggravated): What? What what, what the fuck?!?!?
Xmas: You know, I just wanted-
Tony: Get the fuck outtahere, just get it done!
Xmas: ...and by "it", of course you mean...(hopeful raised eyebrow, palms up look)
Tony: (icy stare)
Xmas: (still bug-eyed hopeful look)
Tony: Take. Care.
Xmas: (still bug-eyed hopeful look) take...care...
Tony: Of. the.
Xmas: (still bug-eyed hopeful look) of...the...
Tony: Fucking. Problem!
Xmas: Yes! Done, T!!! (closing door, oh no, back) ...so I shou-
Tony: (exploding) YES!!! YES!!! Kill him!! Chop his fucking head off in the bathtub and throw him in the river!! For fucking fuck's sake KILL HIM!!!!!!
Xmas: (two thumbs up) you got it, T!! Done!! (close door, Feds high-five each other with tape recorder rolling.)