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"Better Off Dead" The movie script, based on the novel: Better Off Dead by: John Paul Carinci Frank
Granstino knew that Life Insurance sales was a difficult business, even though he had only begun six months ago. But he never
thought that it would cost him his life. After all, who knew that Tony Vongemi-the restaurant owner, who has been feeding
young Frank people to write Insurance on, was in the Mob. Not until Frank's clients start dying, does he realize that something
very wrong is going on. And by the time Frank realizes that the Vongemi Mafia-Family is connected to the deaths, he knows
he's at the point of no return. And to Tony and the Vongemi Family, one day soon he will be; "Better Off Dead." This fiction action adventure takes place in present day Bensonhurst,
After the second client-that Tony Vongemi recommended, dies, and Vongemi
has collected two million dollars from the Insurance company, Frank knows that he is in real trouble. With more than twenty
five clients now insured through Vongemi's help, Frank sees the Vongemi Mafia Family gaining many millions of dollars through
this elaborate Insurance scam. C- John Paul Carinci 2005 #Pau2-357-862 WGA#130669-00
"BETTER OFF DEAD"
by
John Paul Carinci
Chapter One
"Hi, this is Frank Granstino from the Financial Life Insurance Company, how are you today?"
"Okay," the woman said hesitantly.
"Well, that's good! The reason I'm calling," I said with a smile, "is, I'm helping all the homeowners
in your neighborhood with their life insurance
needs. I'll be in your area Tuesday and Thursday. Which night
would be better for me to drop by and introduce myself?"
"Neither! Why don't you get a real job, and stop bothering people!" she screamed as
she slammed the phone down.
I proceeded to cross her name off my list so hard that the pen ripped the page. All in a day's
work, I thought, as I closed my prospecting list.
Earlier, another woman - she must've been elderly - blew a whistle into the phone. She blew
it so loud that I had to switch ears on the next call. Maybe
she thought I was a pervert or a weirdo. But that's the
trouble with the phone book, you never can tell who you're
going to reach.
Prospecting for new sales is tough. So far, my first six months in the business has been murder.
The district manager, Tom Somi, reminds me: "Hey sport, you're only twenty-seven years old.
Give the business a chance."
"Enough of this!" I said, "I already have an earache!" As I packed my briefcase, with calls still
to be made. After I take a break for lunch, I'll drop in
on some businesses in the area and leave my cards.
The district office was pretty quiet for a Monday, especially for a bright and sunny April
day. As the experts say, "You're in business for yourself,
your time is your
own."
Now our manager, Tom Somi, is a tough man who screams a lot. Tom only wants to know, each week,
total premiums and how many policies were sold by each
of the forty sales representatives. He's a bottom-line
type of guy, that no one wants to go up against.
Just this morning at our district meeting, Tom fired an agent. George Flayer had been with
the company for two years. His first year was good, but his last
six months were terrible. No sales, coupled with cancellations
brought him down.
Of course Somi capitalized on the firing. He made George come in for the district meeting. Then
right after our meeting he fires him, making George
clean his desk out in front of everyone. Tom really is pond
scum.
"Somi, that 'potato head', let me go!"
That's all George could say to me as he packed up his files.
With my legs up on my desk, leaning back in the chair, I realized that this business can be
brutal.
Insurance sales is difficult because we're selling a piece of paper. The one thing that
keeps me in this business is that I truly believe in what I'm
selling.
I reminisced about my last job, working for a major bank in was show up, sit at my desk till five,
with no real work, no challenge. Slowly, I was getting melt-down
of the brain.
After I left my dead-end job, I vowed to be productive somewhere. When I started selling insurance
a little over six months ago, it was very difficult.
Since I have few relatives, and only a couple of close
friends, I was very reluctant to try to sell any of them
life insurance - at least in the beginning.
I wasn't like most agents, who rely totally on friends and relatives. And after a few months
fail out of the business. I relied solely on strangers
and referrals. That's why I didn't start off with a bang
and was just barely able to pay my bills each month.
I drive a 1972 Buick Century and live in a modest 2 room apartment in Bensonhurst, chase away any thoughts of marriage.
As my phone rang, it startled me back to reality. I've always been somewhat of a dreamer.
"Hello, Frank Granstino here."
"Frankie, it's me, how're doing? I caught a couple of minutes before lunch."
"Pauly, how are you, you got my message a couple of nights ago?"
"Yeah, I didn't get a chance to call. So what did you think about the Knicks game last night?"
"Aw, they stink! Do you believe they blew a twelve point lead? Sometimes that Starks really
does stink."
"I know, he gets carried away trying to make those three- point shots. Maybe they'll win tonight.
winning lately. Frankie, I'll catch
you later, over the weekend. Let's get together. Gotta
run!
"Okay Paul, I'll catch the game tonight on re-run. Later, bro!" I said, as I hung up.
Paul was my best and oldest friend; we went back almost twenty years. There wasn't anything
I wouldn't do for Paul, or he wouldn't do for me. For the longest
time we lived only two blocks from each other, so we saw
each other every day. Even our parents became friends. We
were so close-knit they had no choice.
"Time to get moving," I said, as I packed up some forms, and realized the time. "Time to blow
this joint!"
After lunch, and some prospecting of the business area on foot, I went home to hang out. We make
our money in front of clients, not in the office. Since I
had an appointment this evening at
The business is lucrative though. It's possible to earn up to two thousand dollars for one
large sale. Not bad for a couple of hours of work. This business
has its highs and lows. The lows are terrible, when sales
are bad.
My older sister Candice helps me keep it all in prospective. Ever since our dad died
tragically a couple of years ago, from a car accident, Candice
and I became even closer.
She always tells me, "Don't worry about the clowns that don't want to buy, it's their loss!"
At times she's better than a psychotherapist.
My appointment was with a guy named Jimmy Lanski. Jim is married and has two children; the perfect
prospect. With children his need for protection would
be great.
At the time I made the appointment I found out that Jim worked off the books, had no life insurance
and was interested. "This should be an easy
sale tonight," I thought, as I dozed off.
Chapter Two
It was like to be early. The Lanskis and I
hit it off great. There was an immediate rapport between Jill,
Jim's wife, Jim and me.
The Lanskis knew that they needed life insurance. They had no problem with the ninety dollars
a month premium, for the five hundred thousand dollars of
protection on each of them.
They were so happy with my needs analysis that they willingly gave me a few referrals.
Which was great. Referrals are the life blood of the
business. With referrals, you at least have a chance to succeed.
The Lanskis told me to call their cousin, and their uncle. The Uncle is Jim's mother's
brother. It really was a great night! I thought as I drove slowly
back home, savoring the moment of sweet success.
Bright and early on Friday, I was back in the district sales office. Fridays are our reporting
days, and the time when the agents tally up their sales
and report them to management.
The office reminds me of the old West that I've seen in the movies. Each week we have many
agents coming and going through the doors like the swinging
doors of a Western saloon. All the new agents come into
the business like they own the world - tough and confident.
In my short career so far with Financial Life, I've met some real characters. There are agents
that sit through district training meetings, reviewing
the horse racing form, pretending to be listening intently,
while secretly itching to get out of the office to bet the
ponies.
That's the biggest reason Harry never amounted to anything. Harry has a bad gambling
problem, and unfortunately he keeps forgetting which is his money,
and which is his client's money for premiums.
Then there's wild Audrey. Audrey is a fairly new agent with the company, and one of only two
women of the twenty three agents in the district.
Audrey thinks she's beautiful, when in fact, she's as ugly as sin. So to compensate for her
looks she resorts to showing some extra skin. This tactic
seems to be working quite well with all the guys. One day
she'll wear a real short dress and no underwear, at least
that's what Ben, the district's only black agent, claims.
Ben looks like a pro wrestler. He's a big guy, with broad shoulders and a big fat neck and head,
much like a football player or a weight lifter. Definitely
not someone you'd want to mess with.
Well, the way Ben tells it, Audrey, during a Friday agency meeting, kept lifting her dress
up, ever so slowly, until as Ben once said, "You didn't
have to use your imagination anymore." All I know is,
that all through the meeting, Ben's eyes were getting bigger
and whiter than we've ever seen.
Then there's good old Freddy. Freddy's always in the bathroom, and when he does come out
he's always sniffing like crazy. His eyes are always bloodshot.
He usually looks spaced out. Audrey said one day, "It doesn't
take much imagination to figure out what 'coke-head Fred'
has been doing!"
It comes down to the bottom line. Some agents get away with murder.
There's also Mel Flaine. Mel is the office rummy. He just plain stinks like a bar rag. Rumor
has it, old man Mel can only stay sober long enough to get
through the weekly Friday meeting just to get his paycheck.
One day Mel came in the office drunk, tripped over a chair and almost killed himself. The
office was almost empty, so only the secretary saw him.
Mel's the veteran of the office. He's been with the company for nearly thirty years. So
they just leave him alone, even though he doesn't sell
too much any more. It makes you wonder just what the pressures
of selling can do to some people.
The last character of the office is Louie Remi. Now, Louie is fifty-five years old, divorced
and not all there. Louie is at rock bottom in the insurance
industry. Even though he's been selling for some twenty
years, he doesn't earn more than a clerk in K-Mart.
Louie is neurotic. He's on a powerful anti-depressant medication. One day he'll come over
and hug you, and tell the whole world how terrific you are. The
next day he'll curse you out.
Louie always was weird. He has even been known to threaten peoples' lives, then blame
it on his medication. One time he threatened to kill another
agent because he thought the agent stole a lead off
his desk. Five minutes later Louie found it under his phone
and tried to apologize.
Louie's also notorious for spreading wild rumors about people throughout the office, especially
when he gets jealous of the top sales people. His personality
is like Jeckyll and Hyde. It's really a pisser though,
to watch the reactions of the new agents Louie comes in contact
with. I learned right away that the best thing to do is stay
far away from crazy Louie. With all the strange and wild personalities
we have, they should re-name our agency: The Outer
Limits.
There's just too much pressure to write business each day. To make matters worse, the company
threatens to fire you every thirteen weeks, if your numbers
don't exceed their minimums.
"The Enforcer", as he's sometimes referred to, is the district's manager Tom Somi. Tom is
a tough manager. Even his appearance is intimidating. Tom is
fifty five, about five foot ten, big, maybe 250 pounds and
bald. He looks tough, like he could take
on three guys at once in a bar room brawl.
I'm sure he was in the Army for a while. He's comical though. Every time Tom gets mad, the
whole top of his bald head gets beet-red, along with his
face and his ears. His whole head gets so red you expect his
head to burst any second - a hot tamale ready to blow.
Most of the agents try not to get him excited. But not me.
I guess I always get on peoples' nerves. After all, I know
I can run faster than him.
It is really funny when he gets all red in the face, except when it's you that he's glaring
at. Maybe it's been my low-production, but lately Tom's head
always seems much redder when he's around me.
The most frequently asked questions from Tom are: "So what have you got so far for the week?"
and "How much in premiums did you sell?" Then he always
seems to turn red. So I try to avoid him every chance I get.
I usually wait for him to go to the bathroom, so I can slip
out quickly past his office and through the back door.
Since it was our Friday report day, I submitted my three new applications. Two of them
being the Lanski sales. The total annual premium came
to fifteen hundred dollars. Not bad for the week. But
since I went blank the previous two weeks, I was trying to
keep a low-profile, and I definitely wanted to avoid Tom. Quietly
and slowly, I slipped smoothly past his door, and into the
hallway. Thinking that I made it past the big-guy, I smiled,
until I heard a booming voice: "Not so fast Granstino!"
Slithering back I said: "Who me?"
"No your mother," he barked. "So you think you had a good week, do you? You want to cut out of
here at
"No, Tom, I wanted to drop in on some people."
"Why don't you just drop back into that seat there," he said, pointing to the chair, "and tell
me how you're going to replace the two prospects you no longer
have now, Frank?"
I had to admit, the big guy had a point. I had sold two different families this week, so I
had two less prospects now. "Tom, I've got new names, I've
got referrals!" I said boasting.
"Oh you do, do you? Maybe you think that by keeping them in your briefcase there, they'll multiply
like humping rabbits?" he asked sarcastically.
"No sir!" I snapped back.
His head and ears were beet-red again, he smiled sarcastically again and said; "Why
don't you make some more calls before the weekend, so maybe
we'll all be able to eat again next week!"
"Good idea boss!" I said, as I exited his office by backing out into the agents' room.
I knew I wasn't going to win this fight, not with this red-faced
gorilla.
I was holding five good-quality referrals, like they were maturing savings bonds. I didn't want
to use them. Maybe I was scared that I couldn't convert
the referred leads into appointments.
Sometimes agents don't have a single lead to call, and must resort to making cold calls from
the phone book. And sometimes, when they do have some quality
leads they're somewhat reluctant to use them, for
fear of using up their ammunition.
I waited for the big gorilla to go to the bathroom and I quickly slipped out. I'll call my leads
when I want to! I thought, as I drove my car into the
start of my long anticipated weekend.
Chapter Three
The weekend was fairly quiet. I'd recently broken off my engagement with Lisa DeVoe. Lisa and
I were going together for about two years. And, as is the
case in many relationships, it was much better in
the beginning. But amazingly, as soon as we announced
our engagement the relationship started to sour to such
a point that I felt trapped. Like I'd lost my freedom and
the ability to do the things that I wanted to do.
Then, one day about two months ago we just blew up at each other. The fight was so intense
that we realized it was far better to split up than to possibly
kill each other.
Lisa was a beautiful woman. She had long auburn hair, sparkling green eyes, and long legs.
She stood about five foot nine and looked like one of those
fashion models, tall and slim. Lisa was two years younger
than me, and very smart. Maybe too smart.
I realize now, that beauty alone doesn't guarantee a happy life together. There has to be
much more than looks; something magical and special. A spark
that will last forever.
I did miss Lisa though, I wasn't really sure which part I missed the most. The physical relationship,
or just the comfort and security in knowing that
I had a girlfriend who cared for me and that I wasn't alone.
On the weekends I try to forget about the insurance business completely. This weekend I
took in a couple of good movies on cable. I also watched some
baseball on TV, and went out to a club with my friend Paul.
On Sunday, I went to see my mother in Staten Island. Of course I stayed for dinner. Mom made
my favorite: lasagna. No one makes it better. Paul couldn't
make it Sunday at my mother's, but he has a standing invitation
for dinner any time.
My sister Candice was there too along with my niece, Michele. Candice is thirty five years
old. Michele is so sweet, she always gives me a big hug
and kiss. She looks up to me, ever since her father ran off
years ago.
It'd been a couple of weeks since I had dinner over Mom's place. I love my mother, and my family
very much, I only wish I could see everyone more often. Life
today though is very fast paced. Before you know it a month
slips by.
By Sunday night, the pangs of loneliness set in once again. Lisa entered my mind, while
I was straightening up the apartment.
Bright and early Monday morning, I was in the office sitting at my desk, planning my week.
I was the first one in the office. It was good, there was
no one to distract me, no small-talk to waste my time.
As I sat with a large container of coffee, along with all my notes and prospecting names scattered
over the top of my desk. I thought, who should I call
first? Which ones were my best prospects? I put the hottest ones
at the top. It was time to make some quality appointments
and keep Tom off my rear end.
By 10:00 I had made a top 50 list. Then, the prospects I've been calling for weeks now, and
unable to secure appointments with, were put toward
the bottom.
Alright then, number one: Tony Vongemi, Jimmy and Jill's referral, looked real good. Tony is
Jimmy's boss and uncle. By far, this was the best lead I had.
I remembered that Jimmy said there was no medical insurance on the job. There were 10
employees that worked there, and it was a family-owned restaurant.
The name of the restaurant was: Little Part Of Italy.
It was on 86th Street in the Bay Ridge section of Brooklyn.
The time was 10:20 am, time to call the restaurant.
"Tony please," I said.
"Hold on!" snapped a deep and powerful voice. After about a minute I heard, "Yeah what is it!"
With a smile in my voice I said, "Hi Tony, it's Frank Granstino,
from Financial Life Insurance, a friend of Jimmy &
Jill Lanski's. They suggested I call to speak with you about medical
insurance. I'd like to make an appointment to drop by and
see you"
"A friend of Jimmy's, sure, come by tonight at 7:00. I got to run, good-bye!" he said this
so fast, I almost didn't catch it, as I heard the phone slam
down.
On my way out of the office, Tom stood in my way blocking my exit. "Anything good setup for the
week?" he asked.
"How about a ten man group at a restaurant?" I boasted.
"It's about time Granstino!" he said sarcastically as he moved out of my way.
As I walked past him, all I could think to myself was: Watch it, go bother someone else!
My friend, Paul Luggi, worked in the city for Trelane, a large accounting firm. Like most New
York City workers, he worked nine to five. I called him a
prisoner, because he could never leave.
"Oh yeah, at least I don't have to beg people for a sale, like you, so I can eat each week,"
he'd always say.
Although he had a point I still felt free, and "freedom does have its price." I keep reminding
myself. I knew Paul would be at work, so I called him.
"Hi Paul it's Frank. What do you know about a restaurant called: A Little Part Of Italy, I've
got an appointment with the owner tonight?"
All I heard was laughing, then he said, "Don't you know?"
"No I don't know, what's the joke?"
"I think that place is run by the Mafia! Frank, you'd better watch yourself, pal! I'll talk
to you later, I've got to run," he said, while laughing hysterically.
That's all everyone knows how to say, I said to myself, Mafia this, Mafia that. Everyone in
Brooklyn can't be in the Mafia, not every store and restaurant
at least.
Chapter Four
It was ten minutes to seven, as I circled around the block for the third time passing the restaurant,
looking for a parking spot. I didn't want to park
in their parking lot, at least not on my first visit. I'm funny
like that.
Another five minutes passed before I caught an available parking spot not far from the restaurant.
It's times like these, that I really hate Brooklyn.
The place was beautiful. It had an all-stone exterior with hand-carved solid-wood double
doors, which were stained in a rich walnut finish. Inside the
restaurant there were shining marble floors with white, fluted
wood columns throughout. The hardwood floors were
walnut with elegant heavy trim gracing all the ceilings
at the top of the beautiful walnut-planked walls.
The tables were of solid marble, with black wrought-iron chairs that had lush red-velvet cushions.
All this was topped off with soft Italian music. "Talk
about ambiance," I thought. It gave me a feeling like
I was actually in an elegant cafe in Italy. It was by far
the most spectacular restaurant I had ever seen.
A maitre'd, dressed in a white tuxedo, smiled, and asked, "How may I help you?"
"I'm here to see Tony," I said cautiously.
"Is he expecting you?"
"Yes," I said, I have an appointment, just tell him Frank, from Financial Life."
Still in awe of the place, I patiently waited. A short time later the maitre'd returned and
motioned me to follow him to a back room.
Seated at a table towards the rear of the room, was a man in his late fifties. I knew it was
Tony Vongemi, because the only other people in the room were
two big and bulky-looking guys in their late 20's. They were
hanging around one on each side of the doorway.
Tony was impeccably dressed, his suit was perfectly tailored, his salt and pepper hair
was styled and neat. He had expensive looking diamond rings,
but not too flashy. I could tell Tony Vongemi had class.
I introduced myself. He was very cordial. We spoke about his nephew Jimmy, my client and his
head waiter. "Jimmy is a good boy," he said. "We also like Jill."
We also talked about the Yankees and the Knicks which, we were both fans of. "I miss Don Mattingly.
He was a worker. Really committed to the task at hand.
I respect that. We look for hard workers in my line of work.
Those are the kind that get ahead."
"I know exactly what you mean, Tony. Mattingly was my favorite Yankee too."
I guess we hit it off well. So well in fact, that Tony had given me two tickets for Sunday's
basketball game. The Knicks were playing the New Jersey
Nets at the Meadowlands. I was thrilled to death, I just loved
the Knicks.
"You're going to the game on me, my friend. Wait till you see the reserved seats we have this
season. You've never been this close to the action. You're going
to feel like the players are going to pass the ball
right to you!"
Tony wouldn't let me talk about business until I had dinner with him, as his guest. Feeling
very much at ease, I had the seafood special and a couple
of glasses of fine white wine. After a fabulous dinner Tony
offered me an imported cigar, which I politely refused. While
I watched him smoke we had a couple of cups of espresso, with
Sambuca on the side, while we talked business.
"Okay, talk to me. I want to take care of my workers. They're good people. They do anything
for me. What can I do to show them I appreciate their respect
and dedication?"
"Well, you could start a medical group plan, and pay for some, or all of the premiums," I said.
I then showed Tony a few different quotes for group medical insurance.
"Do it, just start the ball rolling. Let me know what the damage is, and it's a done deal. Okay
with you Frankie?"
"That's a good move, your employees will appreciate it," I said.
"Yeah, a little respect goes a long way. At least that's the way I see it," he said.
Then, Tony asked, "How about life insurance for me? That's a good idea. What would three
hundred thou cost?"
"About $6,000 per year."
"That sounds good Frankie, sign me up! You know, I like you Granpino.."
"That's Granstino, Tony, but you can call me Harry, if you want."
"You're a funny guy too! I like that. Just make sure you do the right thing!" he said, as he
reached for his checkbook and proceeded to write out a check
for a thousand dollars.
Tony handed the check to me as he said, "I'll give you the other five thou, in cash, when
you drop the policy off to me."
When I asked Tony for referrals, he told me that he'd be calling me next week with some leads.
All in all it was a great night. I made my quota for the
month in just hours.
I was thrilled and somewhat relieved that the constant sales pressure I was feeling, from
low-production, was finally lifted. On the way home I stopped
at Dunkin Donuts and celebrated. Three donuts and a
couple of cups of coffee later, I headed home a very happy man.
This business is great when the sales are coming in. It's
keeping it going that's tough. |
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