THE FAT PEOPLE NEWS CHRONICLE 4.0, ISSUE 3

ARCHIVE: Issue 1 - Issue 2

Hello, mafia, Al_Capone here and this week I need to use our customary editorial letter to address a few changes coming to the FPNC 4.0 setup.

Our fiercely-contested intern search proved so successful that one of our applicants, EvilClown, ended up the leader of his own crew before even reaching a 2nd interview. When the dust cleared, it was PhilipMarleauJr who moved his sleeping bag under the stairs and signed on to operate full-time (unpaid) as the personal assistant to FPNC 4.0 executive Grin-06, Senior VP of News. This, of course, coming prior to the gruesome death of Grin-06 in the first wave of the attack on Philadelphia. He was, after all, a very important member of the mafia media. 

Before moving on with the formalities, let us say a few words for our murdered colleague: Grin-06 was a good Grin. A kind Grin. He was a Grin you could have a drink with. Though he may have looked like a rope chewed by a dog, sometimes there is a charm to that, like when you go to the circus or zoo and think, 'This is nice'. Of all the Grin's, he was certainly in the top 5. Rest in Peace, Grin-06. The FPNC 4.0 team will miss you.

A short funeral procession will be held at FPNC 4.0 headquarters, before his body is buried in the Grin family ditch with the others.

Moving on, I must stress that despite the death of his new boss, PhilipMarleauJr will remain in no way affiliated with my function as Senior VP of Content. I remain in search of my own unpaid drudge, hopefully of a rounder, more cherubic variety, given our standing desire to add a verified chubster to the Fat People News team to lend us a little credibility with our target market. The presence of two media executive man-rocket's amongst our staff has proved misleading to potential investors thus far and we realize a balance is required. 

MarleauJr will begin his duties unchaperoned as team leader of our issues & complaints unit until a replacement for Grin-06 has been found. Applications are open to all, though a strong candidate has been identified in Grin-07, whose father I made a promise to, a promise to make something of his stupid, ugly son, and I don't intend to let him down. His contributions to this edition are part of his thorough and extensive news executive training program. 

I would also like to take this opportunity to remind you all of this helpful flowchart, which will help you follow our trademarked Complaints Handling Procedure (CHP), the only way to make sure your feedback is heard by our organization. In the absence of Grin-06, the good biscuits have been moved into the cabinet in my office for safekeeping. 

THIS ISSUE

This week's FPNC 4.0 brings us news of peace and prosperity, a HQ property market deep-dive, a stand-up comedian, and origin stories. 

BUYING MORE HQs - MIRACLE CURE OR MODERN-DAY SNAKE OIL?

By: Grin-07

In the wake of the CLOrona Pandemic, the war-which-was-paused-then-resumed and AMildPokemon killing 50 rogue/roguette since 25th February, many people have become concerned about their own mortality. Shops are reporting a shortage of essentials, banks are concerned about a run on their assets and Grizzly has been waiting for his coffee to be served by a dead barista over at The Coffee Cafe in the Seattle Business District for several days. 

With fear and angst running amok like VinAndVal in some god-awful never-read street story, it is only natural that particularly deplorable individuals have been taking advantage. Harbingers of the apocalypse have been decrying the current state of affairs on every corner; the 'circle jerk' of leadership, that "we messed up, lets go back" and they even had the audacity to deface the statue of the mighty Bearderus.

The Godfather Council, sensing the growing unrest across the country heightened further by the fall of TheDonBot and his oversubscribed MR-University before the end of the academic year, sought any port in a storm and responded in the best way possible - authorising a lot of crewleaders without any demand for them. Adopting the 'better seen to be doing something' philosophy and code-named 'Operation Authathon', the great and the good of our small and evil community mobilised enmasse to ensure that any civilian considering joining the circle jerk of crime had plenty of options. As a result we have seen the following operations established:

• Alphairus - The Loop, CH (25 spaces)
• BigNick - South Side, CH (20 spaces)
• Farage - 12th Street, DT (26 spaces) 
• Homelander - The Strip, LV (25 spaces)
• Scott_Weiland - Pasadena, LA (26 spaces)
• PrinceSpikeS - Brooklyn, NY (24 spaces)
• PaulyD - Manhattan, NY (28 spaces)
• West - Pioneer Square, SEA (2 spaces)
• Cogburn - Ballard, SEA (26 spaces)

With more than 200 new spaces available, in addition to the already existing 145 spaces available in the established outfits, it seems that La Cosa Nostra is well placed to handle an influx the likes of which the country has never seen. Newly appointed council member and former tone-deaf cowpoke, Vim_Fuego, had this comment to make on the situation:

"People are right to be afraid. It is one thing when they are getting shot in their sleep in Philly over bogus smooth-brained rumours, but quite another when I don't have anything to wipe my arse with. Eight rolls of double quilted I sent Trey out to get and instead he came back with fucking sandpaper! It isn't on. What am I meant to do with that, prep my walls? Bullshit. I'll tell you what, throw up a 30 man HQ, that'll show the fat cats I'm not afraid of them. So what if it'll never be full? We might not get 346 civilians turning to crime tomorrow, but if they do, boy are we ready for them!" - Vim_Fuego

STAND-UP COMEDY
By: Al_Capone

It was the biggest night of Elvis' life. He had achieved so much already; the rank of Boss in the mafia, a crewleader in Las Vegas, the king of rock n roll, but tonight he was going to add one more accolade to his collection, something he had been dreaming of for years. Tonight he was going to perform stand-up comedy in front of a live audience. The scene in the famous Mafia Lounge was electric, the audience buzzing with anticipation. The King himself was going to be taking the stage. Everyone was there; the rich and famous of the mafia world bumping shoulders with your regular gangster, all gathered to have a couple drinks and take in a few jokes while bullets were being exchanged outside.

The fact that a war had started did not matter to Elvis, the would-be fresh prince of comedy. This was his big night, open mic Saturday, his big chance. 'Don't mess this up', he repeated to himself in the mirror of the changing room, dressed in his customary flamboyant jumpsuit. His nervous stomach was turning itself in knots. 'Shouldn't have eaten that chicken parm' was quickly becoming his new mantra. Did he have time to go to the bathroom again? The MC was already calling his name. He could barely hear it through the sweat cascading into his ears. 

Out he went, one hand clutching his aching tummy while the other moistened a microphone with anxious palm sweat. As he scanned the crowd from the platform of the stage, he couldn't help thinking to himself, 'God, I would just die if someone heckled me'. 'I've worked so hard for this,' he pined. He cleared his throat. He was dizzy now, drenched from head to toe, lips dry, voice cracking. He realized he may only get one shot at this. Time to seize the day. He was going to hit 'em with his best joke, the show-stopper. Here goes nothing.

18:16 <Elvis[MR]> What do you call a beat-up Hulk? Bruised Banner
18:17 <&MRBot> OBIT: Elvis (Boss) - Elvis [Paradise, Las Vegas]

The clapping as the bouncers pulled him limply off stage would later be described as "polite". There was an encore when they came back for his shoes. 

A LIFE OF GRIN - ORIGINS

By: Grin-07

Having been elevated to the exalted rank of Wise Guy on three separate occasions and being one of the most storied bloodlines in recent memory, people always ask me how we became established in the Mafia. Usually I refer all fans to my man-servant, PhilipMarleauJr, unless they come bearing gifts, but these requests to document the rise of Grins 1-7 have become so numerous, I thought I would set the record straight and disclose the diaries of my earlier ancestors so other people may be inspired by their less than auspicious start.

Please keep in mind that these were simpler times, maybe even prehistoric by modern standards, and the early Grin's were not as talented, handsome or revered as yours truly. In fact, they weren't even called Grin and the very canopy of my family tree is occupied by the immortal..."Big". 

Big was disillusioned with the 9-5 lifestyle, tired of his factory work in Chicago and thought he would turn his hand to crime. He came to the Streets so wet behind the ears he was in danger of drowning, yet just about managed to  snatch an old ladies purse when she wasn't looking. Drunk on his success and equally terrified of being caught by Johnny Law, he spent the next 10-15 minutes wondering how to leave Chicago, having always wanted to be from New York like his Mafia idols. Sadly, as I mentioned, this diary is mostly in crayon because Big was a moron and didn't understand how flying work so instead he...er...killed himself. 

Fortunately for me, before he was even cold in the ground, his barely less idiotic son Big_Daddy_Big was thrust into the world. Eager to follow in his father's footsteps in a life of crime, he had the sense to do it from New York and was slightly less pondscummy than Big had been. In addition to completing a few petty crimes, he managed to talk his way into being sponsored by Red Scorpion. Less pleasing for Big_Daddy_Big was the reality of the time that you could not join a crew until you had reached the rank of Gangster and in a cruel twist of fate, he was gunned down prior to accepting it. 

You see, despite being better than Big, Big_Daddy_Big was disappointingly still a complete buffoon. In his wisdom, he had decided to cover his public face to the world with a drawing of a stickman taking a piss and giving everyone the finger. This had caught the eye of a local hoodrat who had taken exception and the moment Big_Daddy_Big lost his godly protection, the hood-rat shot him, whispering in his ear "your picture's shit mate, try again".

And so ended the first two entries in the Grin family tree; one to suicide, one to social justice. What would be the next quirk of fate for our beloved heroes? Tune in next time for "Take a payday - what's the worst that can happen?" and Grin makes Goomba - happiness does not ensue". 

PACIFIST PIÑATA
By: Al_Capone

"We will do anything to keep the peace, besides not murdering people from other cities", said representatives for Seattle and Las Vegas last week in a press conference assembled during the ceasefire shortly after the unexpected killings of a host of Philadelphian crewleaders, button men and FPNC 4.0 co-editor Grin-06. "We are determined to honour the integrity of this era of peace and prosperity, except for a tiny bit of killing here and there", they continued, further solidifying their desire to carry on working together with the rest of the Godfather Council, arm-in-arm, for the good of the American Mafia as a whole. 

Following a chaotic period of mafia management, in which the scorched earth left behind by the casino scam war proved fertile ground for a strict regime of purging to grow, a sense of normality has finally begun to settle back into the day-to-day business of gangsters across the country. Citizens, of course, remain wary - as any person would after going through so much in so short a time - but these words from the Seattle and Las Vegas contingents were music to the ears of the community, who understood that the two cities wanted nothing but the success and well-being of their peers, apart from the moments in which they were shooting them. 

Praise for the joint statement came in waves, with crewleaders, regular mafiosi, and the children of their victims alike coming together to agree that any outward intention of harmony and order was a welcome sight in these turbulent times, especially when delivered in the direct aftermath of having killed many people for no reason. "I hope they live and remain valuable members of the Godfather Council for a long time, only killing other cities' crewleaders if they promise they will stop afterwards!', said one enthused citizen.

Sadly for that optimistic mafioso, Las Vegas and Seattle were removed shortly after. God knows what reason the council came up with this time. We can only hope their vision of tranquility and ceasefires lives on. 

Marloo... Marleen... Marlborough... how do you even say that name? I cant believe he got the job neither of us applied for over me, completely unacceptable I tells ya! What? Its Marlow? Like Jacob Marlow? Well why the fuck... who spells shit that way?

Devilishly handsome, if decrepitly old, kind of like Sean Connery if you squinted real hard, Mobster Bored_to_Death was heard to say to no one in particular today, in response to the news that everyone already knew, that even after 18 years, no one here gave a fuck about him.

Speaking of that little puck pushing cretin. Where is he? I suggested I would consider allowing him within my presence as a delivery boy.

Since then he hasn’t been seen.  Is this an example of the service we should expect from this gaudy shit rag? Is he locked in your basement picking the ‘best biscuits’ out of his orifice?

Having a position of power now, I must insist that you retract the offer of employment to this @phiilipmarleaujr , an obvious wastrel.

Much better to offer employment to someone as grey as this boring bastard looks toward bored_to_death , I’d still consider a modicum of Sponserage but would expect a pre editorial delivery for my stamp of approval and the crew toilets cleaned as previous discussion.

I also take the assumption that you must be over awed at my my interest in your.... operation, as I still await response.

The location of my man-servant is becoming a source of some concern for us at FPNC HQ. Not quite to the level of missing pet and certainly not an elderly relative, more like a misplaced sock; "I wonder where I left that?", "Aw, I don't have a pair now" etc. However, I should point out that even in his total absence, I already feel he has contributed more to the grand success of this production than either of you two nitwits could working full 40 hour weeks. 

In other news, and you can probably expect a separate pull out in a forthcoming issues announcing this, the newspaper has decided in these times of mass competition, it needs a war-time co-editor to supplement Al_Capone's laid-back, toe-the-line approach. Accordingly, I'm delighted to announce that future Wise Guy Hall of Famer, Grin-07, has been appointed to the role. All here at the FPNC are delighted he has accepted the task.