Mobster Mathematicians
                      ----------------------

        [The scene: a windowless concrete room.  A single bare bulb
hangs by a black cord from the ceiling.  Two men in gray pinstripe
suits and fedoras sit on one side of a cheap wooden table, smoking
cigars and eyeing a third man, slightly better dressed, who sits
across from them.]

VINNY: He ain't gonna be no easy hit, Franco.

ALFONSO: And there's no slackin' on this job.  I heard all about your last
   hit.  Messy.

FRANCO: What's messy?  I divided him by zero, piece o' cake.  There wasn't
   even anything left to clean up.

A: [jabbing with his cigar] Point is, Franco, this may be the mob, but
   we got rules.  No dividin' by zero.  You gotta factor him fair and
   square, or we'll get the kind of attention we don't like to get.

V: Yeah.  You start muckin' around with the old traditions, next thing
   you know two equals one, and we lose our funding.  So this hit's
   gonna have to pass peer review.  Or else *you* lose tenure. 
   [he grins nastily]

F: [sighs a little]  Whatever.  I'm a pro, you guys know that.

V: All right.  Let's get down to business.  Here's all the info we
   have on him [passes over an ash-streaked folder].

F: [looks over its contents for a minute; there is a hissing sound as
    he sucks in his breath over his teeth.  He looks up at Vinny
    pointedly. ] 
   You don't even have a single prime factor.  What the hell, do I
   have to handle everything?

A: [shrugs] No one knows much about him.  Every time we try to pin him
   down, he slips through.

V: In fact, we think he may be irrational.

F: [raises eyebrows]  That so?...


[ FRANCO walks out as the scene segues to the next day. ]

[ as FRANCO comes back in] 
V: Done?
A: Finito?

F: Complete. 
      [pauses, blows smoke from the barrel of his gun ]
   NP-complete.