William walks into... no, struts into the street. This was something he didn't think his family would ever do again. Sure he had helped out with that crew in Detroit, but he didn't think his family would ever be crew leaders in their own right ever again. He, like many of his previous bloodline had considered themselves semi retired. Sure they still stole purses, knocked over liquor stores, and dealt the odd dime bag from a dark alley way, but leading? Clapping his hands together and rubbing them briefly, he began his brief introduction.

Has your family stalked these streets for more years than you care to remember? Do your ancestors go back before recorded time (12th August '09)? Do you find that you misplace your glasses, keys or gun regularly? Have you ever found yourself staring blankly at a corpse, surrounded by cops, wondering what the bloody hell you were doing there? If the answer is yes to any of these questions, then I have the solution...

The Mafia Old Folks Home

Making your way in the world today takes everything you got. Taking a break from all your worries sure would help a lot. Wouldn't you like to get away? Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name... mainly because you have forgotten it yourself. We will have regular bingo games, day trips to Miami, a Chiropodist and Podiatrist calling in every Tuesday and Thursday, and meals of questionable origin, with textures so soft you'll wonder if its even solid. Sit around all day listening to the classics on the wireless with a tartan blanket over your knees, and reliving the glory days of your youth, retelling the same tired old stories again and again, because neither you nor any of the rest of us can remember you telling it before. 

And whilst we are all drifting off peacefully into senility, you can help make Chicago great once more. Help us build a better brighter future for the mafioso of tomorrow, you even get to tell a relative whippersnapper like phillistein- how things were so much better in your day. Just keep your hands off the nurse's arses. Shannon-Whelan and SaraiStein are a bit funny like that. Give me your tired, your old, Your befuddled masses yearning to breathe from an oxygen mask, The wretched refuse of your teenage angst. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door! And remember, Old Mobster's don't die, they simply get fat and move to Chicago!

It is shameful that this announcement is not getting more attention than it is.  Therefore, I am happy to contribute a substantial tip and use my influence to bring people here.

Thank you LazySlacker, my oldest friend. It is a shame that you were unable to join me on this voyage of discovery, but thankfully I have But Munch... erm finch... Buttfinch to keep me on the straight and narrow. It will be a difficult task, but one that I am sure he is up to. 

Ahhhh CommissarZverev, I too share your disappointment. I know people don't normally make these kinds of announcements anymore, but I am a fan off the old ways and decided it was only right to announce my new status to everyone. It is saddening that the streets these days seem to be full of nothing but people telling stories, but then these things are cyclical, and no doubt in generations to come they will be as busy again as they once were, bustling with announcements and discussions. Just think, another few years of walking these streets and your kin would be only to welcome to be considered an OAP and join me here in Chicago.
I must say, your offer of a substantial tip and influence was magnanimous in the extreme and warmly received, it is a shame that neither seems to be forthcoming, but I thank you anyway. And please, please feel free to visit Chicago at anytime, you and your crewmates are always welcome in our small city, and perhaps you can avail of some spiced potatoes whilst there, I hear the Inn of the last Home is truly something to behold. 

tiggy was taking a stroll when she saw a man bearing the likeness of CommissarZverev giving a dapper man with a fine strut a substantial sum of money, almost as though as if it were a tip, tiggy was so influenced by the tip that tiggy just had to come over and see what was all the hub-bub.

"A retirement home? For legitimate businessmen? That's actually a very excellent and novel concept! All too often I hear about the 80 year old buttonmen sent out to help a fellow cocky goomba out along his way. The issue is that this eighty year old is coughing up such a storm the struggle nearly gives him a heart attack! A place for these folk to have their needs taken care of following a lengthy and prestigious career is exactly what we need! Birds of the same feather flock together, and integration among your fellow compatriots and comrades is key for integration and enjoyment of this facility!

Bravo and Kudos to you, William_Pratt ! And best of luck on your endeavor!"

Wandering around the streets for a while, Buttfinch had forgotten what he initially had come out for. Was it to buy bread, was it rob a bank............it was something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Then it hit him.

"The speech by Wilson, no not Wilson, Wil......, bah these names, those names, bah. The boss. The speech by the boss"

Running, ok jogging, ok shuffling around to the where the boss was, Buttfinch stood looking proud at his status of right hand man. The Mafia Old Folks Home was certainly the place for him. He knew his bloodline went back even before donkey's years. 

Great stuff boss, we can go on to do great things, if only we didn't keep losing the door to the HQ. Pretty sure you had it last! There I was sitting in my retirement home when the call to action came. Back into this life again, for one last time!

Pulls out his whiskey flask and raises it to the boss, 

" William_Pratt that's his name" he reminds himself and slaps himself on the forehead

"And over there that looks like........" he mutters. "Bugger, nope its gone"

Anyway, here is to success in old age.........now where was I going?

William, although moderately happy at his advancement in the world, and genuinely pleased that even a modicum of Mafioso had come out to support him in his rise as phillistein-'s Captain in Chicago. He was however surprised that people still believe that Zverev had given him anything, when what he had given him had amounted to less than the skin of a fart, and wasn't worth the paper it was printed on. Still, if people had to make themselves sound important to feel important, then who was he to care. He looked at tiggy's manly hands and ungainly walk, but swallowed and forced a smile.

"Thank you very much for coming out her today tiggy and offering your two cents. You will never truly know what that means to me. I just don't think that words could do it justice, accomplished poet that I am. Should you ever find your erm looks fading, and gravity having a more than normal effect on your physique, i'm sure we can always find a bowl of Jello and a tartan blanket and chair in front of the boobtube for you as well."

Smiling warmly, and honestly, for if you looked upon his countenance you would see that the smile truly touched his eyes, William turned to Buttfinch. 

"Buttfinch, my second oldest and dearest friend, and descendant of one of the first crewleaders to offer refuge to my fledgling family as they came off the boat from the old country, I want to thank you for agreeing to come out of retirement to assist me in this endeavour. Our families have stood shoulder to shoulder on numerous times, so many that I can't recall them all. Under the name La Frat for most, but other names too numerous to count, like grains of sand on the beach (seven quintillion, five hundred quadrillion grains) or stars in the sky (1 billion trillion) or trees on the earth (3.04 trillion). If only we could bring back some of the others, BennyNoodles, ATS, UntouchableSaint, FatTony2, Mafio, Christian, Versace, Scale, StopKillingMe, Jimmythebean, Bighead, Ecky_bloke, Seyarah, OptimusPrime and DeanMartin, I know this place would truly rock. Its a shame that as with all things, time has escaped us my friend. Still, there is always time for one last Hurrah, and perhaps in passing into history in a blaze of glory, we can perhaps impart a small portion of our collective knowledge on the generations to come. So, come my friend, let us find that door together, because together, surely there is nothing we can't accomplish."

William puts his arm around Buttfinch's shoulder and leads him away towards their sparkly new Old Folks Home.

Sean had watched from afar as various dignitaries offered their congratulations to the new crewleader and founder of The Mafia Old Folks Home.  Once William was free from admirers. he made his way over.

"You know, it's rumoured our bloodlines have colluded together more than once in the past.  I think this is a fabulous idea for a business venture, and I wish you all the luck in the world.  With people such as Callisto and Father_OMalley around, you may eventually have more clients than you can handle", Sean chuckled.

"Thank you Mr Callan, that means a lot coming from you, and yes, a little bird told me that our families have crossed paths on more than one occasion. I don't think I've had the opportunity to tell you directly, but I do hope that we can work together in the future for the betterment of both our cities. Detroit historically has always been the closest ally of Chicago, and I hope to continue that close bond in the future."

William smiles broadly as he shakes the hand of SeanCallan.

"Believe me, should the likes of yourself, Callisto or Father_Omalley ever require a quite place to put your feet up, drink a nice bourbon and get a sponge bath, we will always have room for you guys at the Old Folks Home."

SeanCallan, when you say:

"You know, it's rumoured our bloodlines have colluded together more than once in the past.  I think this is a fabulous idea for a business venture, and I wish you all the luck in the world.  With people such as Callisto and Father_OMalley around, you may eventually have more clients than you can handle"

Just what exactly do you mean?

Isn't it time to stop resting on the laurels of the past and instead live in the exciting new era that you are lucky enough to be part of?  I mean, if you're looking backwards, you won't see the lamppost in front of you, even though it's brightly lit.  Do you want to stub your toe and squish your nose?

And William_Pratt, when YOU say:

"Believe me, should the likes of yourself, Callisto or Father_Omalley ever require a quite place to put your feet up, drink a nice bourbon and get a sponge bath, we will always have room for you guys at the Old Folks Home."

What are you even talking about?  The mobster that ends up an old folks home has failed.

Zverev, I think you are being very short sighted. All the people you have mentioned, and all the people we have mentioned have bloodlines that are veritably ancient. They go back before your grandfather was a tadpole in his father's balls. They have walked these streets since they were mere mud paths, and walked streets in worlds you didn't even know existed. Just because people choose to celebrate the friendships of yester-year doesn't mean we are resting on laurels, it means that we are happy to still be friends. Friendship, you should try it sometime. Actually, I'm surprised you have taken the time to address me today in public, its something you usually seem to avoid, even when I address you directly myself.

And when you say:

"The mobster that ends up an old folks home has failed."

What does THAT even mean? How can a Mobster be an old folks home? Do I hollow you out and we all climb inside? Is that a fantasy of yours?

If what you actually meant when you were trying to be smart and spitting out your vitriol, was the Mobster who ends up in and old folks home has failed, then you obviously know nothing of this life. Very few of us ever get out alive, if you make it to an old folks home in our line of work, then you have succeeded beyond all expectations. I'm sure Comrade Mikhail would someday prefer to retire to the sun and play golf in Miami with a beautiful girl on each arm, than be gunned down in his sleep, for such is the ultimate end for each of us.

William_Platt you say "Friendship, you should try it sometime. Actually, I'm surprised you have taken the time to address me today in public, its something you usually seem to avoid, even when I address you directly myself."

But what you don't seem to realise is that people like me are only kept alive by friends.  For as it was once said by a great man, those without enemies never stood for anything.  I have more enemies than you have friends.  And that means I have more friends.  It's a simply equation.  Think of it like this: for every one enemy I have, I need two friends.  Otherwise the enemies would crush me.

And I am not crushed.  Nor even dented.  Instead I am beautifully constructed.  Like a Man of Iron.

William_Platt won't be able to open this Old Folk's Home.  He was just felled by a gunman.

Make of that what you will.