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What about the Future of Organised Crime? Started by: Moby on Jan 23, '20 11:06

The roads into Vegas are less travelled these days than before. Most traffic heads into the desert - strange enough - as if there is more entertainment to be found in the sandbox, than in the playground. It’s vast and empty out there. For those who wander it’s unclear whether they chose to be lonely or simply never met someone before. Sometimes however we find eachother; we sheepishly look at the other while trying to figure out if there is still more that binds us than the fact that we wander.

The shooting range in no man's land between city and desert is an awkward hub where many of us do meet, albeit in passing-by. We unload our pistols and revolvers on roughly cut-out silhouettes - hammered to flip-boards - that rise from the death again by the pull of a lever. We’re a small army trained for a war that for most will never be a fight. It’s purpose later explained by words that hold no value for the many.

The sounds of muffled gunshots form a constant backdrop for the few souls that line the bar in the cafeteria adjacent the shooting range. Moby leans to his left as he brought up a topic from recent times.


“The PickPocketing Stance announcement brought quite some discussion on to our streets and into our coffee shops. An old subject, tied to more concrete reaction, led to involvement from many on our streets. People showed their face and beliefs.”

The tired trucker next to him sighed in response, picked up his plate and sat down elsewhere. The suggestive action was awkward for Moby, but nothing a switch to the person on his other side would not solve. He continued.

“That momentum made us people. Recognisable individuals. The objective meant to instill respect for Made Men by ruling failed. But the response it got made me respect many of those that came out to share their thoughts, both young and old. That what most of us accept as the golden standard in our society, showed in that brief moment.”

“The fact that this type of interaction is so rare, makes me wonder what the future of Organised Crime in this country is. Are many of us in reality not already in the old country; drinking our wines and looking back more than forward?”

“Many of us are working hard, but to what end is not obvious to me. The impact of our grind is not clear. Looking ahead at the future, there will be a point that someone points their gun at me. Right now, I can’t say if I will look really any different to them than yet another Durden.”

“I believe I can impact that by pushing myself in different directions. But that’s just me; I can influence how people perceive me. But it needs collaboration to build the future. My question is simple. What do we want our future to look like and can we make that a reality still?”

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Dean was walking about the streets late one night, which these days it’s very rare to see Dean roam. He decided to leave that to people who had to much time on their hands and too much to say, though he almost always listened and one day he saw Don Moby speaking on a topic. Which for once in a blue moon didn’t seem like he was just telling a past tale, but was actually open to conversation.

 

” You know I think most of those who join the way of life want one thing, to make it to the top. I do believe though that not all of those who seek the top will reach it, actually a very small amount of people who enter this life do, now their grand children may eventually make it there but then what. Many times you see those same family lines become very inactive in this country and spend much of their time in the old country.”

 

Dean swats a fly off his new leather jacket.

 

” FUCKING BUGS! Shit like this makes me miss Chicago, anyways where was I? Ahh yes I was rambling, as I was saying personally every time I am brought back from the dead for some fucking reason or the other I set out with two goals in mind.”

”Number one, enjoy myself and try to make a couple new friends every time I find myself on these shores. I believe that it is truly the community that makes this place great. Number two endear myself to my crew and city, while helping as much as I can in whatever is the collective goal. Because of this my personal experience in the mafia may vary quite a bit because I’m not trying to sprint to the top like many do, though I can say that it is always a worthwhile experience that I truly enjoy, which at the end of the day is why I’m here and I continue to come back.”

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Tommy with a bottle in his hand like always stopped and heard some chatter, this time though surprisingly, he wasn't drunk. With his sober mind he decided to butt in.

"My goal is to survive. Be a little slow, be a little late and it's all over. Surviving is winning everything else is bullshit. So I work hard everyday trying to delay the day that my life is cut short for as long as possible I know it's coming we know the end is coming for us all in the end but if it comes later and not earlier I'll be a happy man."

Tommy takes out his bottle from his paper bag and starts drinking.

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