Marty looked over at the newcomer as he staggered into the place, he was drunk and by the look of his clothes poor. It was really the jeans, only factory workers wore jeans.  And what was that he asked for Pizza?  Oh wait he must be Italian. It all made sense, the Italian factory workers ate pizza they kept it warm on the radiators during their shifts.  The boy was probably dog tired, and drunk by the look of him.  Marty was feeling unusually charitable, it must have had something to do with this place.  As the fox man was making his leave Marty waved the young man over to the counter.  "I don't know if they got any pizza, but the hooch here is really top shelf"  He leaned over grabbing a fresh pair of shot glasses from behind the bar.  Marty was really starting to feel at home here.  He poured out two nice big shots and offered one to the young man.  "Names Spinelli, Marty Spinelli, and whats yours?"