Soooooo, I'm sitting at a table with Bugsy Moran and Lucky Luciano, and Lucky is going, 'Oh my god, my stomach is fucking rotting!' and I'm telling him, 'Well, Lucky, you shouldn't have eaten that wet meat you found' and Bugsy doesn't even care, he looks vacant and unimpressed and is just licking drool off his chin while trying not to say the most racist thing he can think of. 

Hi guys, welcome to The Gangster's Handbook, an insider's guide to kicking butt and dropping names in the fedora-lined hallways of this industry we call the mafia. That little slice of life was from a meeting I'm sitting in on with Bugsy Moran and Lucky Luciano, two CLASSIC gangsters from this crazy little business of ours because face it: I've got serious cred. Uhhh, remember the St. Valentine's Day massacre? Um, yeah, you're only resting those freaky eyeballs on the guy who did it. So if anyone is going to get up here, assemble a panel of my most prestigious peers, and teach you how to be a gangster at the top of your game, you better believe it's me. 

With this useful guide, I'm going to be giving you guys the best advice on how to navigate your career as a primetime tommy-gun tooter, from things like the best pin-striped suits to the coolest ways to smoke a ciggy, we are going to be coming in absolutely burning up with the hottest tips plucked straight from the fetid crevices of my decaying, syphilitic brain. Here we go.

Tip #1: NO IRISHMAN.

Ummmmmm, I think it's called La Cosa Nostra, not La Cost'a Potatoes? Italians ONLY. You want a mafioso who's focused on his crew, not his stew. If you wanna get anywhere in this looney world of crime, you'd better be able to whip up a criminally good a-spicy meatball, son. Show me one short, macho, dark-haired man who screams at his mother who isn't the perfect goomba, and I'll show you an Irishman who can tell his omerta from his polenta. 

Where's the love for our good old Italian boys? It's the red, white and green, not the orange, white and green. Take that to heart, caporegimes, before it's Finnegan's Wake and you become the portrait of a mobster sleeping with the clams. Ask yourself this: you ever seen an Irish pope?

Let's go to the panel for opinions.

Lucky?

"I'm going to shit out of my fucking ears if I don't get outta here!"

Hmm, it sounds like Lucky isn't feeling so good. We'd go to Bugsy, but the slobber is fully running onto his chest now and there is nothing in there that wouldn't make the world a worse and more hateful place. Thanks for being here, Bugsy!

That's it for the panel!

Remember, tip #1 - NO IRISHMAN.

We'll see you next time. 

This guide will likely become an invaluable resource for mobsters across the country. Pearls of wisdom are hard to come by and you're removing them directly from the horse's mouth and offering them up to the public free of charge. You should probably charge for this, honestly. I'd pay. 

Good looking out, Grin-06. I'm trying to teach these young bucks how to survive this bonkers life we lead, that's all the payment I need!

Soooooooooooo, I'm in Brooklyn, New York, with Johnny Torio and he's looking for a cream-filled donut in the shape of a gun. And he's not finding one. So he's going bakery to bakery, just getting angrier and angrier, yelling about needing his cream-filled donuts to come in the shape of a gun, and I'm standing there saying, 'Johnny, I just don't think that's how they're made!' and he's not having it. He's furious, he's out of his god damn mind. He's running down the street kicking trash and yelling racial expletives. He can't remember the last snack he had shaped like a gun and it consumes him. 

Welcome to The Gangster's Handbook, an insider's guide to kicking butt and dropping names in the fedora-lined hallways of this industry we call the mafia. That little slice of life is from my time here in Brooklyn with Johnny Torio, another CLASSIC gangster from this crazy little business of ours called La Cosa Nostra. Uhhh, ever heard of it? Look, you know our deal: we're coming at you with best advice on how to navigate your career as mama's favourite earner, with the hottest tips plucked straight from the mushy steam of my putrefying, syphilitic brain.

TIP #2: BOSS BABY

This is the mafia. It's a tough business. Sometimes people fall out of favour. How is a guy supposed to get back into the good books? Well, there are some things you just can't do. Lines that can't be crossed. You can't marry your boss. Hell, you definitely can't marry your boss's wife. They're married to each other, stupid! But who ever said you can't knock up your boss's wife? And who ever said you can't become the father of your boss's new child? The boss baby. And pray tell, what happens then, little grasshopper? Well, congratulations. You're a part of a crime family whether you like it or not.

People, creating a boss baby is one of the most tried and true methods of value-based ingratiation in the mafia today. Do you realize what you're worth as the father of your boss's child? I've killed people for even looking at my wife! But would I kill the father of my daughter? Well, let me ask you this, would I do that for any of my other children? Think about that, you damn fools. This is how the game of criminal politics is played, not with your little 'power moves' and your tootin' tommy guns, and your secret little chit-chats, this is about making your boss's progeny your progeny. 

Let's go to the panel.

Johnny?

"I sweah to Gahd, Al, I will burn this town to the fucking ground if you idiots don't find me something that is both edible and shaped like a weapon, I sweah on my dead mothah's grave, Al, you fat fuck"

Someone's a Grouchy Gus! I think that's it for the panel, don't you guys? Thanks for being here, Johnny!

Tip #2 - BOSS BABY.

We'll see you next time. 

Sooooooooooooo, I walk into this club and I sit down at a table and cutting through the air is the most dissonant, fucked up baritone saxophone riffing I've ever heard. The guy is blasting this thing, my head is bursting in this jarring off-key cacophony, he looks like he's about to blow his cheeks out, he's all red in the face, I am drunk off my God-fearing ass on Campari, and I am not having a good time. So, I say to the waitress, 'Ma'am, if that guy doesn't get off the stage, you just lost the best damn customer you've ever had'. And she looks terrified. I'm thinking, man, I told her. And that's when I notice. Wait a damn second. Do I know that hornblowin' hepcat? And I realize, oh my god. Oh. my. god. That's not just some everyday jazz sax heroin junkie. That jazz-daddy is Albert Anastasia. 

Hi guys, welcome to The Gangster's Handbook, an insider's guide to kicking butt and dropping names in the fedora-lined hallways of this industry we call the mafia. It's me again, Al_Capone, ummmmm, you may have heard of me? Chicago Al? The modern-day Robin Hood? Public enemy #1? Oh, and one more famous little nickname, Scarface? Yeah, I thought so. That little slice of life was from my time getting stocious at an underground jazz club with the CLASSIC gangster Albert Anastasia and I'm coming at you today with more invaluable info on how to navigate your career as a Cosa Nostra fat cat, with the hottest tips plucked straight from the bubbling goo of my melting, syphilitic brain

Tip #3 - ACT A FOOL.

People, listen closely to what I'm about to tell you. This is a rule I have lived religiously by for the entirety of my mafia career. If someone told me, 'Al, we love your Gangster's Handbook. It is an invaluable guide to a successful career of kicking butt and dropping names in the fedora-lined hallways of this business we call the mafia. But it's just tooooooo long. I can't read all that!', I'd say, you've already got a head-start, little pup, cuz here's the alpha omega. Open up those flappy little ears of yours, son. 

You are statistically more likely to be a successful mafioso, to rise to the very tippy-top of this crazy little world, to stand at the pinnacle and dangle that free-swinging dick at the huddled and fearful masses, if you are an incorrigible goddamn idiot. LISTEN. Don't talk to me about your college degrees and your fancy talking-heads. Immanuel Kant? Son, I Kant see a future for you in this cut-throat business of ours. Karl Marx? Let me check the marxmanship it's going to take to splatter that big brain across the walls. David Hume? Don't make me exHume your cut and Schopenhauered body from a shallow grave. Baby, you gotta quit the books and start wacking crooks.

It's the school of hard knocks, not the academy of...smart books. Sucker. 

Let's go to the panel.

Albert?

"Ain't nobody smart enough to teach me nothin'"

Well said, A.A. That's it for the panel!

Tip #3- ACT A FOOL.

We'll see you next time.

Soooooooooooooooo, I'm standing outside, the rain is pouring down hard, my face is tilted straight upwards, and my mouth is wide open. It's showering down into my lungs at maximum velocity and I'm gargling it up like a fountain. I want to stop, more than anything, but I have to stay strong. This is my penance. I have said a lot of naughty words lately and it has left Sister Agnes greatly disturbed. I can't afford to lose the friendship of my favourite nun. I'm miserable, but know I have to tough out my absolution, when out of the corner of my eye, who do I see? Vincent Drucci. My greatest rival. I can barely stand the sight of him. I feel something rising inside of me, something I can't control. I have to stop it, but it is too powerful. It escapes: "Vincent Drucci, you fucking cunt!!!!", I yell. I'm not even sure if he heard me. I sigh. All that rainwater for nothing.

Hi guys, welcome to The Gangster's Handbook, an insider's guide to kicking butt and dropping names in the fedora-lined hallways of this industry we call the mafia. Al_Capone here and I'm absolutely soaking wet after my little run-in with Vincent Drucci, a CLASSIC gangster from a rough and rowdy criminal enterprise we all know as, yes, the mafia! He'll join us on the panel later. But first, we should probably get to our next tip, shouldn't we? It's what the people want; another flaming hot piece of advice shooting at you from the rusty barrel of the civil war musket they call my decomposing, syphilitic brain. 

Tip #4 - FREAKY FRIDAYS.

Morale can be fickle in a business as dangerous and ruthless as the mafia. One day, you're having a nice lunch with your friend Grin-03, and the next you're starting a media conglomerate with Grin-06, wondering where the time went. How many Grin's have to die before it starts to affect you, personally? More than a few, but certainly less than too many. And so, as the leader of a mafia family, it pays to be vigilant about devising ways to keep your people happy. 

You want to know my secret?

It's a little something we call Freaky Fridays. You walk a mile in my shoes and I'll walk a mile in yours! Have you ever seen a boss pay taxes to a goomba? I didn't think so! I want to see earners at Godfather Council meetings while their bosses are at HQ polishing shoes. Gangsters giving orders while the big kahuna stirs tomato sauce. I wanna see wise guys in Versace while the boss struggles to button the flap up on his union suit. And then when Saturday hits and the stark reality of the class, power, status and income gulf between you settles in, have that goomba pour you a glass of champagne. Did he think he could just get away with what happened yesterday? He's on his hands and knees like a foot stool now. Yes, that's nice. There's golf on TV and the Don doesn't get his hands dirty. Not until next Friday.

Let's go to the panel.

Drucci?

"I hoiyd you talkin' somethin' real vile out in the rain earlier, Capone"

Get the hell off my panel, Drucci.

Tip #4 - FREAKY FRIDAYS.

We'll see you next time. 

LillisMolly bought a issue of this handbook, he were truly interested to see if anything could be learned after reading this, he hoped he knew the most but he was also sure to get some new good things to learn by reading this.

Nectar, I think there has been some confusion here. Bugs Moran is not my friend. I do not hang out with him. As I made clear, he is an incoherent, slobbering racist. Furthermore, he is not Italian. In fact, he is a strong example of why only Italians should be allowed to be gangsters. You'll find reefs growing in the amount of drool that's accumulated on his upper-body. Whether I call him Bugs, Bugsy, or whatever his name is doesn't matter. It is a way of showing how little I care for him, despite his status as a CLASSIC gangster in the fedora-lined hallways of this industry we call the mafia.

What's he going to do? Kill Al Capone? The guy who did the St. Valentines Day Massacre? Big Al? I don't think so. Do you know how many people have tried? They can't catch me. They don't know what I'm going to do or where I'm going to be. I don't even know that. Nectar, is syphilis quantifiable? Because the sheer amount of it eating away at my brain like a barnacled ship forces me to believe that I am, for all intents and purposes, invulnerable to the physiological failings of a mortal man. I am delivering priceless tidbits of insider information about making it as a mafia kingpin in this wacky world of wise guys and latte fritto, while a deadly bacterial infection ravages my mind like a fat caterpillar sliding through a cobb salad. It's remarkable.

Do as I do and as I say because there is no one more tuned in to the life of traditional, Italian mafia gangsterdom than me. 

Tip #5 - Do as the Big Al's do. 

LillisMolly, please, save your money. The handbook is a free resource. It is my gift to this community. Please be aware, these are just tips one through five. There are hundreds still to come. 

He had heard Al_Capones shout for him so he gets back and get the cash back he paid for it and thanks him for a superbly good handbook for free, it was always good with people giving out stuff for free to all in the community, he loved such generousity. With a smile on his face and good spirit in his mind he walked back where he was about to go when he had to get back to get the small cash.

Soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo, it's Wednesday night, I'm armed to the teeth, and I am deep in the depths of this castle with my drudge PhilipMarleauJr. Virgins have been disappearing for weeks and the townsfolk are convinced it's the work of the vampire that sleeps here. So we move further into the darkness, slowly making our way down this long, spiraling staircase, when I see a torch light up at the very bottom. What the hell? Everybody knows vampires don't like fire. I hear an audible gulp from Junior. Is it a werewolf? Some kind of freaky Frankenstein? It starts to run up towards us, we see nothing but a beacon of light bobbing up the stairs. Part of me wants to run away. Part of me is consumed by morbid curiosity. It's getting closer. So close we can almost see it. It's...Huh? It's not a monster at all. Jesus Christ, it's that bow-tied idiot Hymie Weiss and, man, he looks fucking terrible, just filthy. All I smell is wet dog. He tells us he's been down here for weeks. He wants us to point him to the exit. He's desperate. He's begging us. He says he'll suck my dick for a sip of water. Tough luck Hymie. I'm spoken for. 

Hi guys, welcome to The Gangster's Handbook, an insider's guide to kicking butt and dropping names in the fedora-lined hallways of this industry we call the mafia. It's Big Al again. That peak behind the curtains of some real, grassroots, boots-on-the-ground mafia business comes to you courtesy of my peer, the CLASSIC gangster Hymie Weiss of the famous North Side Gang. He joins us on the panel today. But before we get to that, you know exactly what we're here for: another spicy tip delivered to you straight from the impossibly-scrambled syphilitic remains of the thing once known as my brain. Here we go.

Tip #6 - SCROTUMS.

Yeah, you heard me! Have you ever heard the expression 'grow a pair'? 'Have some balls'? 'Man up'? You know the phrase: where there's smoke there's fire. We've already talked about The Gangster's Handbook's policy on the Irish. Well, now it's time to give you paisans the low-down on a different group of people: the fairer sex. And that's the whole crux of it, isn't it? Fairer. You know what the mafia is, brother? Unfair. Think about that little piece of rhetorical pie.  

Answer me this, smart alecs: if you don't have balls, what are you going to grab in animated distaste when referring to your enemies? What are you going to scratch during those boring days while the crew's gone to the mattresses? Where are women going to kick you after you've made tasteless, derogatory comments about their ability to be mafiosi? Important questions, important answers. Everywhere you look in the mafia, there are men with balls. Some good, some bad, but a time-honoured tradition nonetheless. Men with balls is to the mafia what dumb yokels are to baseball. So tell me, if women are supposed to be mafiosi, wouldn't they have balls too? I rest my case, your honour. 

Now, listen, Rome wasn't built in a day. We can't just kick all women and Irishmen out of the present-day mafia. Not until I'm in power. But in the meantime a little trick I've used that may help you, the sophisticated gangster, is to simply think of your female colleagues as men without balls. Capisce?

Let's go to the panel.

Hymie?

"That is the dumbest goddamn thing I've ever heard, Al, there is an ancient, supernatural creature down there trying to suck the damn blood out of my body and you're rambling into your little tape recorder like a sexist goddamn idiot!"

Wait a second, Hymie. Vampires prefer the blood of virgins. Are you saying...? Ha. Hahaha. HAHAHAHAHAHA. 

That's all for the panel. Thanks Hymie, you gross nerd. 

Tip #6 - SCROTUMS. 

We'll see you next time.

This gentleman reads the Gangsters Handbook in his past time and found it so interesting and entertaining.

"A food for a mind i guess i hope there is more tips in this book" chuckles while flipping the page of this handbook

Sooooooooooooooooooooooooo, I wake up on this island, my face is caked in sand, I'm sputtering out salty seawater, and my back is killing me. That is the last time I ever step foot on anything seafaring. The half-sunken wreckage of the ship is still perched on the skyline like a small, jagged island, but the one we've just washed up on is anything but. It is enormous, with thick, menacing jungle spanning one beach to the other, and I'm wondering, 'Just how am I going to survive here? I can't even cook an egg!'. And that's when I hear it. A primal yodeling escapes the dense canopy of the trees like a tropical siren song, and out of the brush, clinging to the end of a vine, swings this wild man, maybe animal, a veritable manimal. He's wearing nothing but a straw skirt, crude face-paint and a necklace of animal teeth. He is growling, like a jungle cat, and at first I fear for my life. He's hissing and pawing at me with his outstretched hands, curled up like paws. But as he edges closer, knuckles on the ground like a chimp, I realize...that's no Tarzan. That's Big Jim Colosimo, boss of the Chicago Outfit. And, man, he looks fucking yoked.  

Hi guys, welcome to The Gangster's Handbook, an insider's guide to kicking butt and dropping names in the fedora-lined hallways of this industry we call the mafia. Scarface Capone here, or in the words of my panel guest, 'Me Al. Me give tips'. That's right, that little tropical tidbit of proper mafia business - a look behind the curtain, the real nitty gritty of organized crime that I try to bring you with every addition - was how I ran into Big Jim Colosimo, another CLASSIC gangster from this little thing of ours, and he's gonna be joining us on the panel today. So, without further ado, let's get into our next tip, yanked violently out of the smouldering wreckage of my syphilitic mind-mush. Here we go. 

Tip #7 - IMAGINARY DOG. 

Sometimes this line of work will put you in some sticky situations. Situations you would rather avoid. The kind of situations that some guys might be lucky to get out of alive. The truth is you never know what's around the corner. You could be leaving the HQ to grab some amaretti for the boys and before you can say bababooey, it's bada bing bada boom. So ask yourself, in these kinda situations, what's the most useful tool a gangster can have at his disposal? What can your everyday mafioso do to get himself excused from potentially awkward scenarios?

Kid, an imaginary dog is going to change your life.

Everybody at the wise guy bar knows about your miniature schnauzer Droolius Caeser. He's such a good boy. They know you're late in the morning because you've gotta feed the little rascal. They know that's why you disappear at lunch, just as the collections runs are starting. They know that's why you can't stay out too late, when most of the beatings and murder takes place. Your little guy's gotta go on his walkies! And they get it. You are a responsible guy. They can see that clear as day. If they see that you can be relied on by your dog, they'll know you can be relied on by them. 

But you know what they don't know? Droolius Caeser isn't even real. Son, if you've got an imaginary dog at home, you can get away with just about anything. 

Let's go to the panel. 

Big Jim? 

"Me Big Jim, me ookie ookie. Make strong ookie ookie!"

Oof, looks like Colosimo's been stuck out here for a while. I don't think we're getting much more out of this jungle Jim. That'll be all for the panel!

Tip #7- IMAGINARY DOG.

We'll see you next time. 

Soooooooooooooooooooooooo, I'm standing in the rain. I'm heartbroken. The love of my life is getting on a plane to Nebraska, where she's accepted an offer for her dream job. How will I live without her? I'm a mess. We said goodbye about an hour ago, forever, because there's no way I'm ever going to Nebraska. I could barely watch her lift her rolling carry-on bag into the trunk of the taxi. It hurt too much. I'm just walking along the sidewalk now, my hands in my pockets, getting drenched, when I hear it: 'Al! Aaaaaal!'. I turn around. There she is, she's running towards me. She didn't get on the plane! I'm running towards her now. We're both running. We collide in an embrace. I kiss her like I've never kissed anyone before in my life. She...she tastes like garlic? And I'm being scratched by her chin stubble? Uh, hold on a second. What the hell? That's not my girlfriend at all. It's John Scalise, one of the Prohibition-era's most famous hitmen. Fucking gross! 

Hi guys, welcome to The Gangster's Handbook, an insider's guide to kicking butt and dropping names in the fedora-lined hallways of this industry we call the mafia. Big Bubba Capone here, your all-knowing professor in the ways of La Cosa Nostra. That heartwarming moment was yet another look into the day-to-day habits of famous mafiosi such as myself; another example of the kinds of small routines and habits that make us successful, and that have lifted us to the pinnacle of this little thing of ours. Let's get to our tip for the day, brought to you from the syphilitic brain-ratatouille steaming out of my skull through my ears. 

Tip #8 - LEARN MANDARIN

The mafia moves fast. It is a ruthless and agile business. If you - the enterprising gangster - don't keep up, you'll be left choking on dust. The point of The Gangster's Handbook is to make sure that doesn't happen. That's why I'm coming to you today with one of our most forward-looking, important tips yet. If you want to get out of this goomba rat race, you've got to acquire some skills that set you apart. Now, let's do some basic math. There are about 500 people in the American Mafia. Meanwhile, there are 1.3 billion people in China. It is only a matter of time before we are subject to an aggressive takeover by agents of the one of the most powerful economies in the world. And if you don't want to be rendered expendable, son, you need to start sorting out your qiāng's from your qián's. 

Say it with me: LEARN MANDARIN! If you can speak the language, you will become a vital and necessary asset of any China/mafia integration process. Multilingual mafiosi will be helmsmen on the dragonboat of the modern Chinese-American mafia; our new bosses are going to being asking, 'Ni xūyào duōshao qián?' faster than you can throw your former Italian colleagues into re-education camps. It's time to start working on your own cultural revolution, you monolingual gagootz, because when the day comes, I know I'm certainly going to be on Godfather-Chairman Mao's good side. Will you? 

Let's go to the panel.

Scalise?

"Liú dé qīngshān zài, búpà méi chái shāo!" 

Ha ha, exactly. Thanks John. That's all for the panel!

Tip #8 - LEARN MANDARIN.

We'll see you next time. 

Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to take a brief moment to get through a couple endorsements and a quick recap of where we are with The Gangster's Handbook - an insider's guide to kicking butt and dropping names in the fedora-lined hallways of this industry we call the mafia.

ENDORSEMENTS: 

The Gangster's Handbook

Author(s): Al_Capone

Review: What appears on the surface to some as what could be called pure nonsense is actually an entertaining and for some informative read. Including information about who should or shouldn't be inlcluded in organized crime, how to improve your standing in a crime family, what to grab in 'animated distaste', and much more. While it may not be where the first time criminal should go in order to improve his knowledge or skill, it is where most should find themselves if they need a good read during their down time. One thing this paper will always appreciate is originality or refreshing new 'projects' brought to the streets for people to digest.

Rating: 5/5

- BudKnight, The Dilly Philly Gazette

Thanks, BudKnight!

This guide will likely become an invaluable resource for mobsters across the country. Pearls of wisdom are hard to come by and you're removing them directly from the horse's mouth and offering them up to the public free of charge. You should probably charge for this, honestly. I'd pay. - Grin-06

Thanks, dead Grin!

Plato's The Republic. Thomas Paine's The Rights of Man. The Complete Works of William Shakespeare. And now, The Gangster's Handbook: an insider's guide to kicking butt and dropping names in the fedora-lined hallways of this industry we call the mafia. - Al_Capone

Thanks, Al_Capone!

                                                                    CENSORED FOR RACIAL EXPLETIVES                                                                            - BUGS MORAN

It's for the best if we just don't include Bugs Moran at all anymore. The guy is bursting with so much internalized racism I'd describe him as purple in the face if he wouldn't construe it as some sort of ethnic slur. 

RECAP:

Tip #1 - NO IRISHMEN
Tip #2 - BOSS BABY
Tip #3 - ACT A FOOL
Tip #4 - FREAKY FRIDAYS
Tip #5 - DO AS THE BIG AL'S DO
Tip #6 - SCROTUMS
Tip #7 - IMAGINARY DOG
Tip #8 - LEARN MANDARIN

Folks, we are well on our way to making successful gangsters out of you! If you've followed our advice so far, you've likely risen as high as Goomba, maybe Earner. And you're welcome. But don't stop now! Keep an eye out for tips #9 through #100! 

Hey Al_Capone, just out of curiosity, which tip will talk about lions ? Just to know how long I have to wait for a real piece of animal advice to come, instead of that imaginary dog one ! 

Hello iocaste, thank you for reading The Gangster's Handbook: an insider's guide to kicking butt and dropping names in the fedora-lined hallways of this industry we call the mafia. Or if you had followed tip #8, xièxie ni!

You will be happy to hear that tip #54, part 2 of a back-to-back special on Savanna-based organized crime, will demonstrate how the Masai Mafia Tribespeople of Tanzania are cornering the meat racket by dragging the fresh carcass' of recent kills right out from under a lion's nose. We could learn a thing or two from those fearless gangsters and their capo di tutti capi, Mnguni. 

That... sounds absolutely terrible. Please do not teach people around here to do that. It's already hard enough to find a proper antelope in this part of the country, I do not need mafia hyenas to come and steal my kill. Especially not ones trained following the teachings of the mighty Mnhuni !

I don't think it is the place of a lowly Capo to dictate what should or should not appear in The Gangster's Handbook: an insider's guide to kicking butt and dropping names in the fedora-lined hallways of this industry we call the mafia. We are talking about tips & tricks for success straight from the mouths of some of the most CLASSIC gangsters to ever toot a tommy gun, including myself, Al_Capone. Uhhhh, the St. Valentine's Day Massacre. Ever heard of it? You might as well call me Mr. Mafia. 

Or as I would say, having followed tip #8, ni kěyi jiào wo hēishou dang xiānshēng.

I used to be an avid reader of this handbook;t there might be some useful info there especially when it was written by the Wisest of Guys. Now though, I dunno. I feel like the advice has sort of been diminishing returns since about 18th March at 16:16. Not sure what has changed but it has not been very helpful at all since then.

Ni zěnme gan, gélín! Wúlùn děngjí duōme gāoshàng, wo dū bù huì jiēshòu yīgè xiaocōngmíng rén dì nà zhong wú li!

And you can take that to the bank, Grin-07! Though I may no longer be a Wise Guy - the most prestigious of ranks, and one that I held twice, a record - in my dreams, I still roam those guild halls, I still pat the head of the hideous gargoyle of Grin-05 as I enter the building, I still enjoy lunches in the guild canteen of food that was pretty good but that you would struggle to remember a day later. Oh, those good but not great days. 

If I can help these kids reach that wonderful rank of Wise Guy by tip #35, I will consider the handbook the greatest success of my career.