Has The Mafia Gotten This Lame?

And this better not be like the drugs-support-terrorism scare tactic because David Chase isn’t buying it:

Looks like this “Beast” won’t be unleashed in Annadale this Fourth of July.

Police chasing after a man who launched fireworks off Woods of Arden Road late Saturday night say they ended up finding a pyrotechnics treasure trove inside the Lenzie Street garage of a reputed mobster.

The stash, which cops estimate at $8,000, looks like it could have come from the shelves of a toy store — dozens of brightly-colored boxes with names like “The Beast Unleashed,” “Fire King Returns,” “New Yorker,” “Midnight Monsoon,” “Screamin’ Meemie” and “Pyrotechnic Motherlode,” decorated with demented clowns, blue monsters and a robed wizard.

. . .

According to police, Frank Russo, 26, of the 100-block of Benton Avenue, was lighting “birthday cake” style fireworks at the corner of Woods of Arden Road and Lenzie Street at about 11 p.m. Saturday.

Three officers and a sergeant from the precinct’s Anti-Crime Squad — Officers Shaun Mortman, William Palmer Brian Laffey and Sgt. Andre Teterycz — saw one of the fireworks go off, and gave chase.

Russo ran down Lenzie Street, to the home of a cousin, 37-year-old Frank (Frankie Steel) Pontillo and led the cops right to the stash, according to police.

Russo and Pontillo ran into the house, through an open garage door, and when police showed up, they saw the fireworks boxes inside the garage.

Pontillo, a reputed associate of the Colombo crime family, is still on supervised release after a 1993 murder conspiracy and racketeering conviction, court records show.

Pontillo was part of a five-man hit crew led by John Pate who rented Hasidic costumes as part of an aborted plan to gun down William (Wild Bill) Cutolo as he entered a restaurant in Borough Park, Brooklyn. Police arrested both men and charged them with multiple counts of unlawful dealing with fireworks, and a felony charge of criminal possession of a weapon.

The Advance Knows What Advance Readers Like

“Price is Right” local angle? You betcha:

“It’s not going to be the same,” said Cheryl Booker, 44, of Stapleton. “I liked him because he always made the show look like so much fun.” The debonair Barker, 83, is retiring after 50 years of working in the television industry. The beloved game show’s final episode featuring Barker airs at 11 a.m. tomorrow on CBS, Channel 2.

. . .

A replacement host has not yet been named.

Barker’s biggest fans say he’s irreplaceable. “No one can fill his shoes. No one can fill his personality,” said Marianne Mancinelli, 62, of Ocean Breeze. (Barker did say earlier this week that he would be willing to stay on as host if a replacement can’t be found.)

Ms. Mancinelli, a devoted viewer of “The Price is Right,” recalled the simple joy of watching Barker demonstrate the “Hole in One . . . or Two” game and the excitement of seeing contestants capture both “showcases” — a rare occurrence in the finale to each episode. Her one lament: She never had the opportunity to be a contestant.

“I wish I could have gone on that show,” she said.

Staten Islanders of all ages and genders recalled watching Barker and “The Price is Right” at one time or another during their lives. Many recall older relatives religiously tuning into the show every afternoon, while others remember playing along with parents and grandparents. For some, like Frances Bollak, 30, of New Dorp, the show harbors fond memories of loved ones.

“The show reminds me of my mother because she loved him,” said Ms. Bollak. “He will be absolutely missed.”

Would the Times deign to cover the fallout from Barker’s departure from, you know, like the Upper East Side? They should. Because people watch — everybody watches. That story is there.

Tastes Great, Less Filling

If they’re not perpetuating Italian stereotypes in cell phone ads, then they’re reminding us of that damn landfill:

Staten Island Borough President James Molinaro is having a meltdown over a frozen treat called Staten Island Landfill — one of eight flavors made by New York’s own 5 Boroughs Ice Cream.

“I’m outraged and disgusted that you would name your Staten Island-themed ice-cream Landfill,'” Molinaro wrote in an angry letter to the company founders.

In bright red type stripped across the top of the borough president’s Web site, Molinaro yesterday called on local businesses to boycott the company.

Kim and Scott Myles, the Queens couple who founded 5 Boroughs Ice Cream in their Astoria kitchen in 2002, said they wanted to take the Ben & Jerry’s concept to an urban extreme — and they meant no harm.

“It’s got chocolate hearts because it’s a flavor with heart,” Kim Myles, 33, said of Landfill, a vanilla ice cream stuffed with brownie chunks, heart-shaped chocolate crunchies, chocolate fudge and cherries.

Landfill does seem a bit harsh compared with the other more whimsical flavor names: South Bronx Cha Cha Chocolate, Bay Ridge Amaretto Amoré and Jackson Heights Mangodesh. And there’s NYPB, a peanut butter-flavored chocolate ice cream, with 5% of the profits going to the New York Police & Fire Widows’ & Children’s Benefit Fund. But another flavor has a cold bite to its name: Upper East Side Rich White Vanilla.

“The upper East Side suffers from a stereotype, that everybody is white and everybody is wealthy,” said the chairman of the neighborhood’s Community Board 8, David Liston.

From Bad Old Days To Worse Bad Old Days

Forget the bad old days, here are the really bad old days:

Twice in one week.

A 7-year-old building a sand castle on Staten Island’s South Beach suddenly found herself in the hospital yesterday after her thumb was pricked by a hypodermic needle.

Tanya Johnson of Port Richmond was sick with fear when she brought her daughter to the Sunnyside offices of the Staten Island Physician Practice — but she reassured and comforted little Sayyidah: “You’ll be all right. It wasn’t your fault.”

Only a week ago, an Eltingville woman rolled over on a sheet spread out on Midland Beach and was jabbed in the thigh by a syringe. Filomena Rago is awaiting the results of blood tests to determine whether she was exposed to infection.

Sayyidah Johnson was playing with her sister and cousin near the boardwalk and the Vanderbilt catering hall when she was jabbed yesterday, around 5 p.m., by a syringe that had lay hidden in the sand.

She was scooping sand into a bucket with her hands when the needle struck her finger, her mother said.

“It poked me,” said Sayyidah. “I saw a little dot on my finger.”

After a lifeguard cleaned Sayyidah’s wound with a swab of alcohol, the Johnsons went to the Staten Island Physician Practice, then to Richmond University Medical Center, West Brighton, for treatment. In an empty Gatorade bottle, Mrs. Johnson carried the syringe to the hospital — its bent needle apparently caked with dried blood.

Bring On The Bad Old Days!

You want the bad old days? We’ll give you the bad old days:

On the same weekend the city Parks Department heralded the opening of beaches, and the South Beach boardwalk went upscale with a new Ben & Jerry’s ice cream shop, an Eltingville woman endured a nightmarish flashback to Gotham’s darker days of waste-littered beaches, when she was stuck by a hypodermic needle while sunbathing on the sand.

Filomena Rago rolled over on the sheet she had spread out on Midland Beach late Sunday afternoon, getting ready to leave because a chill had set into the air.

Before she could reach for a cover-up to slip over her gold bikini, she felt a sharp jab at the back of her left thigh.

“I picked up the sheet and looked down to see what it was; it was a needle with some of the plastic and you could tell it was syringe,” said the 27-year-old legal secretary. “When I saw it I cried.”

. . .

“If it happened to me, of course I’d be worried,” mused Anthony D’Angelo, yesterday afternoon at Midland Beach, as his toddler played in the sand. “But I’m going to keep coming; I think it’s a rare event.”

Nearby, 5-year-old James was digging in sand littered with cigarette butts, washed-up plastic bottles and Styrofoam cups.

“He knows to watch out for needles,” said his grandfather, Luis Romero, motioning toward a spot where he said he recently spotted syringes in the sand. “I know they clean but you’re not going to get everything unless you pick it up by hand.”