Bruce frowned more deeply the longer he listened. "But if they don't go to school, won't they not even know basic grammar?"
"What does that matter?" The fat boss did not care in the least. Shaking his head, he said, "You just need to learn how to put on airs at Mafia family gatherings. As it happens, I like the cigars you brought today, so I'll teach you a trick..."
"I'm all ears," Bruce said.
"First of all, there's nothing wrong with how you dress. This suit should be made of good material too. Looks like you've got some money behind you, but that alone won't do. You need to learn how to talk. Doyle, you probably haven't learned this either, so you're benefiting from his presence..."
Doyle smiled at Bruce, who nodded lightly without saying anything. The fat boss took another puff of his cigar and said, "Let me ask you two: if you see your rival at some mansion, and you've had a little friction recently, then he walks up and says, 'The food here is really terrible today. I see you've eaten quite a lot.' What does he mean?"
Doyle frowned first. "I think he's asking for a beating! He says the food is terrible, then says I ate so much. Isn't he calling me tasteless? I'll teach him a lesson when I get back!"
Bruce frowned. "Those two sentences should build upon each other and express the same meaning. If he were merely provoking you, there would be much simpler ways to say it..."
The fat boss smiled. "This one... what was his name again? Oh, Matchstick Malone. He's the smarter one. What he actually means is: the two of us shouldn't be here right now. You've eaten enough too, so let's find somewhere to talk."