Half a day had passed since CommissarZverev was sentenced to serve one year in Alcatraz. The streets were still in shock. MartyMuscles, the most muscular man in mafia, hauled a giant grandfather clock through the silence, careful not to let his baby-head sized biceps flex too hard and put a dent in the woodwork. He slid the giant antique over his enormous trapezius muscles and placed it on a street corner. 

"What's up weaklings, it's Marty Muscles. This clock that I've dragged all the way across town - solid oak, it's gotta weigh at least 100, 150 pounds, I didn't even break a sweat - is tuned up for one reason: to count down the days until the Commissar's sentence is over. 364 more days of street sanctuary, where a guy like me can flip heavy tires and get my pump on at an outdoor gym without the menace of competitive writing threatening to leave a string of fatalities in its wake. 

That's right, my poltroons, no more getting bullied, no more scandals, no more fear! I was just at a rodeo a couple blocks away - I thought it was a charity thing, they told me it was for the poor, but it turns out all rodeos are for the poor - and nobody got upset, nobody ran away with 40 million dollars, nobody got shot, it was terrific, man, I was so stoked I had to get a couple sets of curls in right then and there, brother. 

Hear that peace and quiet? That sweet sound of silence? That delicate stillness, only interrupted by the stench of the overflowing morgue? Hell yeah dude! I hope nobody ever comes back to the streets! Chest bump me, bro!"

Marty hit some poses, the veins on his bulging body popping out like an escape attempt. 

I only heard tales of this "horror show" we recently had in this world. I hope we can all enjoy a more twatfree vibe going forward.

Hell yeah, bro, spot me for a sec!

Marty throws himself under an enormous bench press and starts to rock that iron up and down like a crazed animal

Marty had begun to visibly sweat following the death of his spotter, CptCarrotToTheRescue, but he continued to pump nonetheless. There was no rest for the swole. 

354....355....366....

Couldnt agree that the world were in shock, many else both in jail and killed so think the most of all felt sorry for themselfes instead and takes new measure to be a good ones in the world.

412...413...414...

Hnnggh...

Marty shelved the bench press bar with a loud grunt. 

Shit, bro, I've been busy sculptin'. Dying is for suckers, man, I don't play with that. These pecs are natural body-armour. I don't care for chumps sittin' at home feeling sorry for themselves when they could be dosin' up on serotonin at Big Tuna's Outdoor Bench & Bars. 

3...2..1 seems like the kuku-clock stopped for a while, it was pretty funny when it were on but it could be good also for it to be closed for a while since it ticked way to high lately.

God damn FuriousWolf, what in the god damn hell are you talking about? The clock is working fine, bro. 363 more days. You better spend that time wisely because when that clock hits 0, the bad man is gonna bully your punk-ass for making no god damn sense.

Look, come work out with me at Big Tuna's. Get that blood pumping, baby. I'm gonna get you so jacked nobody is gonna even think about messing with you, you're gonna be poppin' watermelons with those bicep curls. What do you bench? 50, 55? Shit, don't worry about it, bro, we've got plenty of time to get you swole. 

has there been any update on this at all? is it just poor old kuku that got banned what is the fate for the other culprits marty? has there been any official word on it.

Cadence, did you catch that guy Vapor walking around here earlier? He's up in federal prison now. He was a part of that whole thing. Ate from the dirty money trough in the billions but snitched to the authorities as soon as it no longer benefited him. But you know what? It's for the best. At least in prison, a guy's gotta work out. I don't want to see that wimp walking around these streets with the muscle mass of a noodle soup, looking like he's about to lose Wrestlemania to a baby giraffe. How hard is it to do a few push-ups every day? Maybe hit a rowing machine every once in a while? 

Prison is gonna be tough for him. Slimderella, they'll call him. But when a motherfuckers out here looking like something vultures would chew on, my man is due for a hard dose of reality. Nobody wants to see them Mr. Peanut-ass legs anymore. 

The Kuku clock just hit 362 days. 

Little-Lenny-Literal came out to the street. He was wearing clothes. He spoke with words.

I can see a very muscular gentleman talking to some very weedy gentlemen. They do not look like they have ever done any physical exercise before.

I say to the muscular gentleman, "that's a nice clock". He has a very big clock with him, that's why I said that to him. 

I stand opposite the muscular gentleman. I am a little bit hungry and think about what I might each for lunch while I wait for him to reply. The canteen at the Port of Leith restaurant is serving Bubble and squak with bacon, followed by artisan bread and then a selection of either Spiced lamb and brown rice souper stew, Scotch egg with apple chutney and salad, BBQ pulled jackfruit with pitta bread and coleslaw, Philly cheesesteak and a selection of vegetables. I don't know what to pick at this moment in time because I'm not sure I can quite manage a 751 kcal scotch egg just now. 

Now here's a proper gent. You see that, everybody? Little Lenny didn't come strutting out here like Vapor, trying to flex muscles that look sliced off a kebab spit. He saw a nice clock and he said as much. I like you already, Little Lenny. You won't be little for long if you stick with me. A couple weeks at Big Tuna's Outdoor Bars & Bench and I'm gonna have you looking like Little Hercules, baby. You're gonna need the right nutrition though, you ain't getting any less little without protein, but I hear the Port of Leith restaurant is tossing around calories like Vapor's mama hands out hugs so it's all gravy, kemosabe. 

The 3 casino owners were banned with the quickness lol.  That part was a no-brainer.

Reply by: Squishy at Dec 09, '19 04:10

According to this Mikhail and commisar are banned too. 

Little-Lenny-Literal was still in the street. He was thinking about lunch whilst he was waiting for MartyMuscles to respond to him. It was sunny out, reasonable amount of cloud cover.

MartyMuscles has replied to what I said to him. I'm thinking about what I should say to him in response. I think he is probably right that I could bulk up a bit and I would probably benefit from more protein in my diet. Maybe I should have that Port of Leith Restaurant  Scotch egg after all. I know it is quite calorific but it probably has about 11.1g of protein in it too.

"You're probably right about the protein, Marty", I say to him. I say that because I think he's probably right about the protein. I might spend some time at Big Tuna's Outdoor Bars & Beach too. "I might spend some time at Big Tuna's Outdoor Bars & Beach, Marty". 

The 3 casino owners were banned with the quickness lol.  That part was a no-brainer.

Reply by: Squishy at Dec 09, '19 04:10

According to this Mikhail and Tiggy (Jeddy) are banned too. They damn well better be. 

Wink, god DAMN, bro, do I hear an echo? I said this shit to FuriousWolf earlier: this is our chance, baby. I am here to make you better. You try pulling a stunt like this when the Commissar gets back and that bullying-ass motherfucker is going to spin you up so hard in one of his damn competitive writing contests it won't be long before I'm doing burpees at your funeral. You've got 362 days to sort it out, son. 

On the other hand, I have high hopes for you, Little Lenny. You've got what it takes. You're a straight-shooter. You're not out here making yourself look foolish, like Vapor when he showed up looking like he was ready to haunt an asylum. I couldn't believe that guy, Little Lenny. The fuckin' nerve, bro. 

A mouse took a stroll in the cold dark street

the mouse was small

and surrounded by feet

Marty the Swole saw the mouse

and the mouse looked nervous

the people all here

appeared to be perverts.

The Mouse saw the clock and was in a bind

it reminded him of 3 uncles he had that were blind.

'Nice clock' said the mouse to Muscles Marty

'But I must be off to enter the Harty.'

Off ran the mouse, perhaps thinking of food

But the mouse spied Cadence and Cadence looked good.

Wink hears some muscular dude making noise and shouts:

Marty, an echo would contain the same words son. I corrected the earlier post. Your brain must be exploding due to all those protein shakes. You ought to cut back on them.

I am lounging about now but won't be here come their release dates. These streets, this place, will be a memory soon. Enough is enough.

Nipsey, smoking a blunt overheard a conversation about someone who must've done some real dirt to end up in Alcatraz. Nipsey, himself did not know what was going on, he just knew a lot of crazy shit happened based on his father's journals. Instead of entering the conversation himself, he decided to continue smoking his blunt and listen to what others have to say.

My dude is out here talking about posts and acting like he's not the crazy one. It's no wonder the Commissar wreaked so much havoc on you hot dogs. It's cuz MartyMuscles wasn't around to stand up for you sissies. Everybody's a wise guy til they see these lats. You see Nipsey_Hussle smoking his blunt over there? That's a guy who knows how to take in a situation. He wouldn't get eaten alive by that yammering jackhammer CommissarZ like you would, bro. I am trying to help you, Wink. If this place is soon to be a memory, I'm makin' it my memory palace, baby. 

Hell, even that little mouse-ass motherfucker is coming out here with some wicked rhymes. I see you, Little_Brown_Mouse.