…..and where are all the sods?

The Cad saunters onto the box of soap and taps the mic with his cane

Ding Dong lesser beings.

If you will indulge me for but a minute, I’d like to start a bit of a discussion, a moot if you will.

We currently live in a period of calm, of peace and, if I may be so bold, harmony.

This may seem like a good thing but I have to say it doesn’t sit right with me.

Our streets thrive when good meets evil, when evil dresses particularly dapperly and when it gets us off the seat of our tweed slacks.

Where are the plotters?  The spotters?  The war time alotters?

In fact, where is any Utter Caddishness these days?

Your feedback will probably be dismissed as piffle.

Good day!

Cad sashays away pausing only to raise his monocle in the direction of a finely well turned out filly

Ding Dong!

Lemme tell ya somethin' fella, a capella for the man de la cause. A causeway on a thoroughfare headin' due starboard effects another causeway comin' to the same crossroad takin' a left. One uses their blinkers and the other doesn't. When the right turn goes outside and the craft turnin' port goes in. Who decides if they crash or not? Can people actually control "the zone" you hear them athletic boys talk 'bout all the fuckin' time? I wonder if there's some sort of chemical in adrenaline... I mostly stick to tea and cigarettes with the occasional drink this way or that. But the fact is everyone is afraid of dyin'. The rich of our shores have armies of bodyguards with the safety of a fortified office for which no one seems to know who can hit with their own squadron of underlings. It appears even the most refined minds of this or that time struggle to comprehend the universal math laid upon the railroad tracks alleged shippin' companies may or may not use to transport goods and bads. Here's hopin' Frank doesn't crack a can over my ol' noggin hey-yo! Hi yah! And another thing about this thing of ours. Anyone notice ghosts poppin' up?

@Utter_Cads speech had caught Justices eye. Or ear. But that wasn't really a phrase. Justice was always up for his words to be dismissed as piffle, so he slid into the crowd and decided to put his 2 cents in. 

I for one am glad for this period of peace. War means one thing. Crime. And crime stinks. In this time of peace we have see a sharp decrease in crimes. Bodyguards can go about their jobs unmolested. Guns are holstered and only used for target practice. My court docket is manageable and I don't have to see my friends and colleagues before me in my chambers. 

And our streets are thriving, there's plenty of activity around here. Especially if you head on over the the business district of Detroit. Fantastic businesses are pulling their weight over there. This isn't an advert, I have no monetary interest in it whatsoever. No sir. 

A friendly world is a prosperous world. And we can all share in this prosperity. See the good and be the good. 

Paddy

I could make no sense of your words at all, but they seemed lovely so thank you.

Justice, we are all part of a world of crime, crime is our raison detre so to speak. crime is good

More of it I say!

Ding Dong!

The bigger picture remainin' unclear, Paddy the stoned ee'jit steers his body towards a stair set nearby. Even Justice had come out and spoken the same truth from a different vernacular. Did people not appreciate the effort of the incorporated people of the corporations of this thing of ours? Was it that hard to see? Did everyone walkin' their way to the post office to collect protection just forget? Where did it all go wrong? 

Paddy reaches for a cigarette in his tin cigarette case, he leans into his prepped hands to light it up. His eyebrows raise, he takes two quick puffs and then a long drag inwards. As he exhales he just shakes his head. I'm not sure this guy gets it, Paddy thinks to himself as he kicks his right leg over his port-cider'd leg. The smoke twirls in the wind, cars pass, and all Paddy wants is a hit of his grass. But he thinks better of it. The stimulation from a kicker stick would do him much better in this case. 

As he leans back into the stoop he found himself on, the little sleuth of a mobster puts his arms behind his head. He begins noddin' along to a song in his head. His toes start to tap thin air, and the smoke comin' out of his mouth looked like a goddamn forest fire.

Cad appreciates Paddy's candour and pours him a large dram

Understood.  However, my point is this life of ours isn't about being comfortable.

We live beyond the law and we are, if you don't mind me saying, fucking despicable.

CAD Hands Paddy a cuban and settles in for the evening.

I like the cut of your jib! I too associate myself as one of the skidmark's on society's underwear. But I think some of the upper members, those with higher ranks, fancy themselves as somethin' above someone. Y'know?

A drag off his lit cigarette and Pitruzzello continues, his hand movin' sporadically with his words. He occasional points at nothin' as he speaks.

Then you have to think to yourself. Back in the original country of this thing of ours, the business was started as a way to protect Sicilian farmers from a corrupt government. Now you've gone and found yourself another paradoxical conundrum here, right? 

Paddy takes another drag off of his cigarette. He just kinda grooves in his spot on the stoop, hand still maestroin' the verbalization of his thoughts. His hand with the lit filterless cigarette continues it's sporadic motions as he continues to speak.

Now that this thing of ours is... How would you call it... Settled in. Yeah! Settled in, that's a good phrase. Now that this thing of ours is settled in here in America. We are the one's who sit behind the wire now. And there's an old song in a beautiful country that says "Every man will stand behind the man behind the wire", so if this thing of ours is providin' people with somethin' to stand up for... Why should that change? 

Cad relieves Paddy of his cigarette and hands him a finely rolled cuban and refreshes his glass

You make fine points and you express them well.

I understand for business to be good, relative peace is an absolute boon.  I absolutely understand this.

It just bores the absolute suspenders off my belt.

Cad has another dram and salutes a well heeled gentleman who has had the courage to wear dog tooth.

The unused chrome M1911's with black trim sat in holsters over Paddy shucked and fucked your mom Pitruzzello's sweater vest.

You have a warrior spirit in you, I reckon sir. I can resonate with the vibrational frequencies you verbalize my good sir.

He takes a puff off of his newest comeuppance in the form of a cigar.

This is mighty fine stuff, thank you! 

He takes a swig from the alcoholic beverage that had been poured for him, what a fuckin' gentleman this Utter_Cad fella was! And the refined visions he has in his mind that the people of this thing of ours have spoken on about since the dawn of time. 

Cad clinks paddys crystal tumbler and raises his glass aloft

Time change, but class always remains.

To you sir.

BCN was making his rounds, collecting the cities' leavings to dispose of them in a more desirable location when he noticed a man pulling trash out into the road and standing upon it in an attempt to draw attention to himself. He listened intently to the odd man's speech and decided that he must add his two cents, even if he was naught but a trashman. 

"The truth, Mr. Cad, is that war has always and will always be bad for business. The more people are able to work without having to worry about being shot in the back, the more money gets kicked up. For obvious reasons, this is preferable to most people. However, war is also inevitable. Someone will eventually decide that the peace has gone on long enough and then the families will rebuild. Tis a neverending cycle."

Having said his peace, BCN turns around and walks back to his truck, dragging the soap box and a trash can with him. 

I don't disagree with you Bluie

However, it's fucking exciting isn't it?  It's what we keep our families in this life for.

More i say!