Location: Sands Casino East, Atlantic City, NJ

Rough day. First Joey, then this. Not that it was a surprise. I knew about The Sands East going down. Hell, Momo and I agreed that it needed to go if we were gonna' build another one in Vegas. I'm even pushin' the button for the detonation. Figured I built the place, why not be the guy who knocks it down, right? That's not to say there isn't a little nostalgia that goes with bringing the joint down. My last shows before I walked were there in the Copa Room.

I was gonna' pick up Sammy, but I couldn't get him on the phone. Apparently, he's gone into mourning over Joe. I left word that he needs to buck up, we don't know if Joey's gone for real or not, and there's no need to start bawling like a girl over it until we know. I didn't even try Dino, he never answers his phone. However, the "Telethon Jew" has been lightin' up my voice mail like a Christmas tree. I need to get that friggin' iPhone up and runnin'

Location: Cal-Neva, Lake Tahoe, NV

I don't know if you've heard the news yet, but Joey's gone. Jilly gave me the word while I was taking a tour of the Cal Nev (first time back in over 40 years... its a mess). I'm not sure if he's really gone or just walked away from the life. I don't think he's really gone, if you know what I mean, but I'm having it looked into. The guy never walked before, so I don't know. Either way he picked a hell of a time to blow.

I know the ruckus between Smokey and Dino a week or two ago really put a strain on him. I know it had to be exhausting work to keep the torch alive until we all came back, so I don't fault him for walking... for a while. So Joey, if you're reading this, the "Church of Cool" can't function without it's Bishop. You're the hub of this big wheel we got here. Take a week or two if you need it, but get your ass back asap. Don't make me come lookin' for you.

Location: Undisclosed (Foreign, warm and sunny)

Not even mom said there'd be days like these. Wow-ee, where to start boys and girls?

First I want to thank all of my fans and readers who went out to see the replacement act I booked at The Greek. I'm touched by your support. There's a "Thanks Sinatra" lighter to each and every one of you.

Now, on to the big news. Last time we had a chit chat, (or rather when I last spoke and you listened) I was leavin' Sammy's residence at Cedars. Jilly had to swing by his house to get fresh duds so we split up. I was headed back to the Twin Palms.




I'm rarely tired at 4:00 AM, but being under the pressure cooker all of the sudden, made me wanna' give the night a point in the win column. Once home, I headed straight to the bar to pour myself a nightcap.





After killing the Tennessee milk in one gulp, I poured another. That's when I found out I wasn't alone.

"Whatsa madda' Frank? You nervous or somthin'?"

I looked up and near pissed my drawers. There in a chair, not ten feet away from me, sat a dead man and he'd just talked to me.

The dead man giggled at me while I stood as if I was etched in stone. I hate to say it, but Bobby K. was right. This guy giggles like a little girl. It was Momo. Finally I got my wits back enough to start talkin'.

"Either I'm dead, pal or your..."

"You ain't dead Frank. Not yet anyways." More giggling. This was beyond Creepy-ville, baby.

"But Sam, I saw the photo of you, lyin' in a pool of your own blood on the floor. Seven bullets Sam. Seven to the head."

"Since when do you believe evrathin' you read in da papers? You know for a man of da world Frank, you ain't dat fuckin' bright."

"So you walked?" I asked, still shocked.

"No, I gotta' great plastic surgeon... what da' fuck you think Frank?"

"But no one uses photos when they walk. Just a death certificate and a news clipping."

"Not everyone whose a walker's ditchin' the F-fuckin'-B-I and da outfit."

He got up from the couch and walked up to me holding his arms open, almost like Christ. He was laughing again. I ain't scared of much, but this was a bit too much.

"Ain't you gonna show me some respect you fuck, or should I be givin' you your real walkin' papers?"

Yep, I wasn't hallucinating, it was Sammy G., alive and in the flesh. I gave the guy a good back slapping hug. "You sly bastard," I said, "Only you could pull off the greatest escape of the 20th century."

The shock was wearin' off, but I started to worry and wonder. What the fuck did he want with me after more than 30 years? Sam only came around when he wanted you around him and that usually involved walking a razors edge.

"So what's the scoop Sam? What ya' doing back?"

"Pour me a drink Frank." I grabbed another tumbler and poured while he talked, "You in a world a shit right now, ya know Frank?"

I stopped pouring. My nerves were still enough on edge to think he was gonna' clip me.

"Relax Frank. Jesus. If I wanted ta whack ya, you'da looked like my walkin' picture by now." Relieved, I resumed my bartendin' duties while he continued.

"So nigga' Sam went and popped off to "tall, dark and handome" and got 'imself punched for his troubles, and now you's all fucked good. Am I right Frank?"

"Where'd you hear?" I said, handing him his drink. He went to the couch and sat, taking his hat off and setting it next to him.

"I hear everything Frank, you know dat. Whaddaya' fuckin' care? Anyways, you's in dutch but good and I know abouddit. So what, right? So now you know I know, so we're all upta speed on da bullshit and da chit chat. Let's talk business."

Sam's always got an angle. He's got a degree in street smarts. I've dined with Presidents and with Kings. I've met every giant in the business world, but none of them, not a one of them is half as smart as Sammy G. He is, hands down the sharpest person in any room. It's made him wealthy. It's also what makes him deadly. Sharp like a knife and it cuts both ways.

I pulled up a chair in front of from him, pulled a sip out of my drink and said, "I'm all ears Sam."

"When me 'n some of da other big guys walked outta' da life, we put some guys in for us. Ya' know, some markers, puppets, guys we could control no matta' where we was."

I nodded, "Smart."

Sam snapped back, "Nah, it was fuckin' stupid. Deez guys start thinkin' dat they're real bosses, ya' know? But not a one of 'em had a brain between 'em. Dey start makin' moves wit out approval from on high. Eventually we ended up wit da special olympics of our thing and dat idiot Gotti wuz da' capt'n of da team. Fucked da whole thing up real good. Fuckin' talk more then broads dose guys. So membership was down, money went down and all da' power followed da' money. Fuckin' Chinks & Spooks running da' neighborhood, thinkin' they got da' muscle, and for a while they do. Big fuckin' mess. Took us fifty fuckin' years to build our thing here and ten to waste it. We all got fuckin' lazy."

I was curious, "So you're not the only one who's back?"

"Uh-uh, not by a long shot, and don't even think 'bout askin' who else. We gotta' new rule and believe me, da' less you know, da' better. Anyways, let's just say da' brains all got back together and we drove out da' dumb muscle. Almost everybody. No walk outs, only one way tickets for dose bums.

I was starting to see where this was heading. If everything Momo was telling me was true, then he must know the 'quiet guys' who were behind The Greek. I was gettin' hopeful. Cautiously hopeful.

"So that's how you heard about my little predicament," I said.

Sammy laughed, "now ya gettin' smart again, Frank. Keep dis up and maybe we let you run anotha casino. Yeah, dats how I heard abouddit." Then he leaned forward and dropped his voice. "See, the thing is, da' boys runnin' that joint, Da Greek? Dey are what's left of da' dumb asses dat we flushed. Dey figure deys well hid in a little joint, skim some cash and no one's gonna' find 'em or fuck wid 'em there."

"And you intend to show them the error of their ways."

"Give dis man a dolla'. Yeah, they gettin' took down."

"Well I couldn't agree with you more Sam. But what can I do?"

"Nothin'"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I want you to lay low, don't stay anywhere you can be found, become impossible to get a holda'. Find some broad in a foreign country and fuck 'er brains out, whatever. Let dis beef between da' Candyman and da' Crooner stew. Don't tell no one, not even Jilly and especially that dizzy broad Marilyn about it, just vanish. Then, after a couple a days, dos guys are gonna' try 'n put pressure on ya', ya' know, muscle ya'. "They'll threaten everything but ya' socks. Fuck 'em. When dey do, send word back that dey can suck ya' dick, ya' got it?"

"How will I know?"

"You'll know."

I knew it was a mixed blessing that Sam was back. It's always a mixed blessing. This time, there was less of a bless in the mixin'.

"So how long do I let this go on, until I DO get whacked?"

"Nah, nah, nah. You ain't gettin' whacked. Listen, you keep up da' routine like I said 'til I tell ya' udderwise."

"I don't know Sam, this is soundin' like a dangerous game."

"Ya' gonna' fuckin' trust me or ya' gonna' wish it was a game. It's already more than you want to play wit. Look, who ya' fuckin' think shielded you after I walked outta' da' life? You do it my way and we'll all get real well at da end of dis. Ya' don't, and you start to regret ya' came back at all, capiche?"

I nodded, "Yeah, alright Sam. My chips are on you, Pal. Like you said, what have I gotta' lose?"

"Believe me Frank, you ain't got nothin' to lose and everything to gain. I wouldn't have brought ya' in if I didn't think you were da' man for da' plan." He rose from the couch and grabbed his hat. "I ain't gonna' tell ya' anymore for now. Ya' know enough. You'll hear from me when ya' hear from me. Right now, ya' gotta' pack ya' bags and fly the fuck outta' here."

We hugged goodbye and then he said, "By this time next month Frank, I'm gonna' be listenin' to you sing 'Chicago' in my new casino. Ya' gonna' have a piece of it too, just like before. It's gonna' be better then ever and no one will be able to touch us, ever." He headed toward the back door and then stopped and said, "Hey, I almost forgot. Dat butler a yours? George?"

"Yeah, what about him?"

"He wrote a book. Dey gonna' make a movie outta' it."

"That fuckin' asshole!"

"Nah, I heard he was pretty easy on ya'. He kept da' main secrets out of it, even da' one's about King Arthur, which is why George lives to see his movie. He threw in a few lies too. Said you was hung like a horse." Sam started laughing that maniacal laugh.

"Get da' fuck outta' here Sammy," I said laughin'.

He turned to walk out and I said, "Hey Sam. Thanks Pally."

"Leave town Frank." Then he walked out.

And so here I am. In an undisclosed location like that lard ass Vice-President we got. I can't complain, but you know I will. I'm in a place that looks like paradise, even though in reality, I'm limbo. When I think about it, that's pretty much where I've been all my life, somewhere between heaven and hell.

Location: Cedars-Sinai, Los Angeles, CA

I found Sammy at Cedars. Why he went there in the first place is beyond me. I mean, yeah, ok, Dino popped him good, but the hospital? For two days? I told him he was acting like a broad and he needed to straighten up and get his act together, pronto.

He started going on about how Dean needed to see the bigger vision and other babble. I cut him off short.

"Smokey, you're burning my shorts pal. You started this fuckin' mess and you have NO IDEA the ripples your little belly flop caused in MY POND! Your idea had about as much 'vision' as your left eye, Sam. Start using your good glimmer. What on earth made you think for a second Dag would want to work with Jerry? Whatya' blowin' lines again?"

"Francis, you know I'm not. I just thought..."

"DON'T THINK! JUST HIT THE MARK I POINT OUT FOR YOU. GOT IT?

I really wasn't all that mad at Sammy, but I needed to get my point through quick and when it sounded like he was gonna' do the wrong kind of song and dance to anyone who'd listen, I needed to lay the law down.

"You want me to talk to Dino, Frank?"

"No, I want you to send Jerry over to see Dean. WHAT THE FUCK SAM? YES. YOU NEED TO SEE DEAN AND GROVEL! YESTERDAY FOR CHRIST'S SAKE!"

Sammy just looked at me like I killed his mother. That whole hurt look I can't stand. I figured I'd beat up the little guy enough. The sale was made. I didn't need to pound the nail any further. I put my arm around his shoulder and said, "Look, Sam, you know I love ya' like a paisan, and Dean, he was outta' character. He's got his reasons. But you gotta' reign in that over the top Vegas routine of yours and think about what you're doing. You gotta' size up everyone like you size up an audience baby. You don't sing "Born Free" when they wanna' hear "Birth of the Blues", get me?

He nodded.

"Good, now go do your show for Dean and hit it out of the park."

"Frank, what if... and I'm not saying I can't... but what if for some reason I can't hit it out of the park babe?"

I just stared at him for a moment. He was just starting to get it. "Sammy, if you can't hit it, the house is gonna' cut us off... for good."

Location: El Dago, 35,000 Feet

I'm flyin' back from Vegas right now, catching up on some email and wondering how I'm gonna' be the peacemaker in this mess. I gotta' tell you, I'm shocked at how many people are taking sides in this little feud between Sam and Dean. It's even on the web. Someone sent me this link. Scroll down until you see "Dean Martin vs. Sammy Davis Jr.". Fuckin' sick.

Look, this ain't no joke kids. We're talking serious money and serious people. Serious people whose sense of humor ends at the dollar sign, let's not fuel this issue any further, capiche?

I don't have much of a plan yet, but my gut tells me I need to get to Sam first. Dino, no way. Not yet. I'll give him a day or two to cool down while I convince Sammy that it's in his best interest to apologize to Dean. I'll give him the old "be the bigger man" speech and if that doesn't work, I'll threaten to cut him off, completely. He'll obey. He always does. That's why I love him.

Location: The Greek Isles, Las Vegas, NV

I flew into Vegas a few hours ago to cancel the surprise performance dates we had at The Greek Ilses. I'm trying to book some talent to cover the dates I booked a couple of weeks ago. As of now, the reunion's off, kaput, Ends-ville. It's a pisser of a mess.

So I got quite a few emails regarding the fracas we had last night at the Twin Palms. I guess no more harm can be done in spillin' the details now. Here's how it went down:

I set up a meeting for last night. It was gonna' be Me, Dag, Smokey and The Bishop. No Lawford (which shouldn't surprise anyone in the know). I told everyone to be at the Twin Palms early, around 11:00 PM to discuss a new project and to keep it on the hush-hush.

All the boys were up for it, even Dino, which surprised me a little. We'd had a short falling out during our last go at a reunion (a story for another time).

So I had my secretary Gloria stock up the bar, get a photographer, and hire the catering. Chester was on hold in case we decided 'entertainment' was required. Jilly arranged security. Jack Entratter, who's silently backing The Greek, was gonna' phone conference in around midnight. We were set for a summit baby.

Sammy show's an hour and a half early. It's predictable. The guy's all juice... enough energy and excitement to make a puppy dog look boring. What can I say? Smokey's my kid brother.

Joey shows at 11. On - the - dot. That's Joe. Perfect timing in everything. The three of us start pouring drinks while we wait on Dean. Sammy's all over me about the details of the plan, "Is it a movie, Leader? An album? Come on Francis, spill it baby. What's the score?", but I wouldn't budge. I told him we gotta' wait for the Dago before I start handing out the details.

It gets to be about 11:30 and Sammy is on his third round of interrogation when Dean shows, more like he 'appears'. I'm telling ya', that's one quiet club singer. We didn't even notice him until he said, "So what's a guy gotta' do to get a drink around here Pally?"

"Dago!", I said, giving him a big hug. "On time as usual, ya' prick. You wanna' J&B?".

"No, but a B&J sure do sound good about now", he said laughing.

"We don't serve your kind here, buddy. You're lookin' for Boys Town" I joked. "Hey, you'll never guess who's been emailing me to death."

Dag waved his hand over his shoulder as got himself a drink. He didn't want to hear it. We all get settled and I start to give 'em the lay of the land. I started right in, "Except for Joey here, we all checked out of the life a long time ago. I don't know about you, but I got bored."

Joey chimes in, "You think YOU got bored... Frank, please, with all due respect, walk a mile in my shoes, will ya'?"

Dino, not missing a beat, "Now, now, Joey, you know Frank don't wear no cement shoes."

We all break out laughing at the old joke and Joey kicks right back, "No, but I hear he's had a few pairs made."

After the laughter dies down, I continue, "That's what I want to talk about boys. Look at the chemistry we got in the room and we haven't performed together in almost 20 years."

Dino looks at his empty glass and says, speaking of chemistry, I'm in need of a refill." He gets up to get a new drink and says, "don't let me stop ya' Frank, I can listen and pour at the same time."

I go on with the plan, "I wanna' do a whole new stage act. A whole new Rat Pack. New routines, new jokes, new songs, the works. I want to do it at The Greek Isle."

Sammy, surprised, "Excuse me Frank, the what?"

Dino, settling back in with his drink, "I bet I can get all the B&J I want there."

Joey, sounding a little concerned, "Frank, why not a premier joint? The Greek ain't Caesar's you know."

"I know that Joey,", I reply, "I don't even want to advertise it at all. It'd be too easy to just publicize it all and pack the crowds in. Too easy to walk into Caesar's like conquering heros, but the fact is, we wouldn't be conquering heros, we'd just be like every other act in Vegas, trading on our past. I wanna' go at this with some integrity. I want our act to succeed on word of mouth. This time, I want to work without a net."

"Yeah, that Annette, she sure no fun on da' stage... but backstage..." Dag jokes while lighting a smoke.

"So what do ya' say Dean." I ask laughing. "You in?"

"Yeah, sure Pally. It ain't like I got a whole lot goin' on right now, being 'dead' and all."

I turn to Joey, "What about you Joey, you up to it?"

Joey scratches his chin in mock thought, "Let's see, let's see... obscurity or Vegas, obscurity or Vegas. Um, can I buy a vowel?"

I laugh, "Good-O. Sammy?"

"Give me the word Boss, I'll be there."

I sit back in my chair and say, "Good, well the first date is this Sunday, if we want it. I say we go on raw, just hit the stage and roll on the first show. We can build the act from there."

Sammy, looking concerned, I swear he almost raised his hand to speak, "Ah Frank, we may have one little problem, but I think I got the solution. In fact, I think I got a brilliant solution."

"Shoot it, Smokey." I say. Its a benevolent dictatorship I've got going here after all.

Sam's obviously excited, leaning forward in his chair, "OK, ok, here's what I'm thinking. When we first got together as an act, we were a 5 man act and we were rehearsed. The second time around, we were a 3 man act and we were rehearsed, but Dino couldn't go the distance..."

"Watch it, boy," Dino said, looking up from his drink and only half kidding.

Sam, undeterred continued, "no offense my man, but ya' left, whatever your reason, that's in the past, here's what I've got..."

Dean got up to get another drink while Sam went on, "we work best as a 5 man outfit that's rehearsed. Frank has already put the order down that we ain't rehearsing at first, no PR and we're a foursome."

I start feeling a little tension in the room as Sam spins his idea, "whatcha' drivin' at Sam?"

Sensing my impatience, Sam says, "I think we should bring in a 5th guy."

"If you're thinking about that pervert Laford pal, you've..."

"No, no, no, Frank. Not Peter."

Even Dean's getting impatient at this point, "For God sakes Sam, the show starts in 48 hours. Who?"

Sam answers, "Actually, you know him Dean. You've even worked with him already... Jerry."

At this point, Dean ain't looking like the lovable guy you all know from the TV. Leaving his drink behind at the bar, he walks up to where Sammy is sitting, gets right in his face and says, "I didn't hear you back there Sam. For a minute I thought you said Jerry. Tell me you said, 'Larry'."

Sam, ever the salesman, stands up, puts his hand on Dean's shoulder and starts to sell his Jerry idea, "Dean, listen to me baby. This is a dynamite move."

Dean shrugs off Sammy's hand from his shoulder and says in a near whisper, "you outta' your fuckin' mind?"

"Look, Dean, babe, you're great when you've got someone working with you. You're the world's greatest straight man, but let's face it baby, a straight man ain't funny without..."

"Without what," Dean said, flat and monotone, then again, louder, "Without what?"

"Without a funny man, Dean. Look, you're among friends here baby. Everyone knows you're not as funny without Jerry. It's no big thing, it's just the way God almighty laid it out. You need Jerry to play off of and he'd be a great replacement for Peter." Then Sam turns to me and says, "whaddya' think Frank?"







Sammy barely got the 'k' of my name out, when Dean did the unthinkable. He right hooked Sammy, square on the jaw. Sam went down like a $20 hooker. He was out cold. Dean had blind-sided him good, taking advantage of Sammy's glass glimmer.







Dean walked out of the room, grabbing his glass off the bar. Joey and I, still in shock, checked on the Candyman. He'd be ok, but it was going to be a hell of a lump for a while. The photographer just stood there with his jaw draped over his shoes. I snapped him back to life and told him to go get some ice for Sammy. I caught up with Dean in the living room.

"What the fuck was that about you stupid fuckin' Dago?" I yelled at him.

"I gotta' explain it to you Frank? Of all people? You didn't hear what the president of your fan club said in there?" Dean said, still steaming.

"So you go hit the guy? On his blind side? Over that? What the hell's the matter with you?"

Dean looks at me, straight on and says, "I'll tell you what Frank. I got an idea for a 'sponsor' for our little reunion. His name's Howard Hughes. I'm sure Ava told you all about him a couple of times."

My blood went from room temperature to south of the border instantly. I was so fucking pissed, I was speechless.

Having made what he thought was his point Dean opened the front door, then turned to me and said, "you just think about it Dago and get back to me." Then he walked out, slamming the door.

I stood there, clenching my fists at my sides for what must have been a half hour. Just stood there, staring at the door, seething.

Then the phone rang and brought me out of my coma.

"Talk"

"Hey Frank, its Jack Entratter. Sorry I'm late calling in. Hope I didn't miss anything."

"You at The Greek now?" I asked.

"Yeah, why?"



"Stay there. I'm flying out. I'll be there in 3 hours." I hung up the phone and Jilly and I were off to the airport.



3 hours later, I met Jack at the casino bar and gave him the story.

"Dean?" he kept asking. He was as amazed as I was.

"Yeah, go figure. I don't know Jack. Maybe 60 years of Jerry being hooked to his name finally broke the dam."

"Dean? I can't believe it."

"I know, but what are ya' gonna' do?"

"Well, I'll tell ya Frank, we got a bit of a problem now. The 'quiet owners' of this joint were counting on this show of yours. There's a lot of money that was gonna' go their way. They're gonna' be pissed. We gotta' make this right."

"I know, I know. Don't remind me. Look they gotta' understand what happened here was beyond anyone's control."

"Frank, we're not talking about telling the teacher about the dog eating the homework here..."

"I know what we're talking about Jack. I get it, ok?

"We gotta' do something. You gotta' talk to Dean."

I'm getting really irritated now, "You wanna' try and get him on a phone? I'll give you a million cash right now if you can get him on the line." I reached over and the bar and grabbed the house phone and put it in front of him. "Jack, he ain't gonna' talk to nobody right now. Trust me."

So there we sat. Two guys who were totally fucked, staring out at the bar and looking at a permanent check out from life, just when we both were getting our hooks back into it.

After a few minutes, Jack said, "OK. Here's what we're gonna' do. You find a replacement act for this weekend, promote it on that website of yours, tell everyone you know, endorse the hell out of it and get asses in seats. Then you gotta' make this shit right between you, Dean and Sammy. I don't care how it's done, just do it."

"So what are you gonna' do in the mean time Jack, bang cocktail waitresses? Come on, you wanna' help out a little here?"

"Hey Frank, I'm gonna' go see the boys and explain things to buy you time. You wanna' trade jobs with me?"

"I get your drift pally. Fair deal. How long I got?"

"At best? 2 weeks, but I'd get it done as fast as you can. You know these guys."

"That I do, Charlie" I said with a sigh as I got up, "that I do."

Who'd a thought when you come back, you come back all the way, huh?

Location: Twin Palms, Palm Springs, CA

Well, I'd hoped to be surprising you fans in Sinatra land about a big 'Rat Pack' reunion, but now I'm not so sure. i can't get into the details right now, but it doesn't look good at the moment.

All I'll say at the right now is I had 'em all over to the Twin Palms tonight to start discussing the plans and things got a little out of hand... ok, a lot out of hand. Words were said, punches were thrown, at least this time I wasn't throwing 'em.

Ok, 'I've said too much already. You're just gonna' have to wait until I fill you all in on the gory details later on. Maybe things will have cooled off by then, but I ain't puttin' money on it.