NFRC In my family, stubborn opposition to things is met with a threat to call Uncle Tony.
My mom's Uncle Tony (my grandfather's twin; their parents were from northern Italy) worked for the city of Denver in the '40s, and had some connections of somewhat questionable nature, in retrospect. My mom's favorite story is when she woke up as a kid, one Sunday morning, to find a slot machine on her parents' porch; her dad (who owned his own insurance company) knew it had to have come from Uncle Tony, who claimed he was just letting it rest there, out of sight, for a while. "It's not out of sight on my porch!" my grandfather apparently shouted over the phone. "Get rid of it!"
When Uncle Tony died in the late '70s, all of his suit pockets were overflowing with parking tickets that he'd agreed to "take care of" for friends. smileys/wink.gif
When my husband married into the family, he quickly learned not to mess with the Italians from north Denver... But now even he has taken up the spirit of things, wondering aloud, in difficult situations, "What Would Uncle Tony Do?" smileys/wink.gif