Don Shapiro's Dysfunctional Mafia Muffins

Instructions:

Take off all gold chains and pinky rings before commencing to teach these ingredients a lesson. Be sure to place sheets of heavy plastic on the floor in case of any "mess".

Get a bowl. Better yet, tell that brain-dead nephew of yours to get the fucking bowl. Now! While he's at it, he can drag his sorry ass to the refrigerator for some goddamn eggs, which you will proceed to crush like his head if he should ever backtalk you again. Add "milk" and fold in degraded blueberries and fine-ass flour. Goddamn, will you just look at that fine, fine ass? Look, for once! Where I'm pointing.

"Stir".

Jesus fuckin' Christ, why don't you use your goddamn brain and add the oil and vanilla extract before you bend your grandmother's spoons in half, you moron. Without something liquid, this shit is like the concrete you dumped your bookie in last month. Mother of God, if your mama could see you from heaven right now, she would beat the shit out of you just like you're gonna do with the mixer... which you will set to "medium puree".

When ingredients are no longer lumpy - like your fucking SKULL! - pull the mixer out of the batter and place in the dishwasher. Well, take it apart first, asshole! What, do you wash your radio?!! Never mind, I'll bet you do. All right, now pick up the bowl and scoop the crap into some muffin molds or whatever you wanna do, fuggedaboudit. Turn on the heat in the oven, just like you turned the heat off last week - they got nothin' on you, you're an honest business man. Set it to 350 degrees. Now get a smoke, sit back and watch it burn like that tenement fire you were nowhere near last August 18th.

Serve when they're good and fucking ready. Whadda you mean taste funny? No sugar? We put it in when we... aw, fuckit, go out and steal some muffins from fuckin' Einstein's. And put some goddamn panty hose over your head, you look like an amateur.

You don't know me, we've never met before in my life.