I come today presenting you a case. A case which needs judgement not from the conventional institutions of Justice, nor judgement from my boss and 12th Street public shower-buddy SimonTheSwanHunter, but needs judgement from YOU, the people.

Street Justice. Vox populi.

I lay the facts of the case before you, free of biased interpretation, simply the events as they transpired:

    Jul 29, 12:27:13     Fanta requested Wack auth on WaffleStompingChamp.
    Jul 29, 12:29:21     ntaaf tried to WACK! you.

What happened here? What madness could have led to this? A fair question.

Truth be told I don't really know myself. Did I grant Fanta authorisation to shoot me? I think I might have. Or maybe it was SimonTheSwanHunter who told him to and gave him the means. Perhaps even TFS. Or perhaps he was swayed by UglyInbredGeorge to perform one of his famous "defence audits" on me. It is foggy in my mind, much like the glimmers I sometimes see of a distant past where I lived in New York and witnessed someone getting a swirlie.

The truth is unclear. Before we can come to JUDGEMENT (and punishment) we first need to unearth what truly happened today. Why did Fanta try to shoot me? Who gave him permission to do so? Is this some revenge plot of beluga's because I told him I wished someone would piss on his hamburger? How did I come out unscathed?

Your Honour. I call my first witness, UglyInbredGeorge.

Your honor (assuming there is a judge presiding over this case), look at my nametag. What does it say? CoolGeorge. But what does it say underneath that? Senior Vice President of Defense Auditing, The Greater Detroit Area. 

It's not an easy job. It's often thankless. Unrewarding. 'Punishable by death' if you're really someone nobody likes (this is added primarily for posterity and reference when I am forced to perform my audits on non-Detroit crews). But it's honest work and I'm good at my job. 

I'd like to bring forward Item A from evidence:

<%WaffleStompingChamp[MR]> I knew you were a Ligambi spy, Fanta[MR]

<%WaffleStompingChamp[MR]> I am assigning UglyInbredGeorge[MR] as your personal handler now

Having been put in charge of Fanta, the natural thing to do was to put him to work in my business. And the man was a natural. A mere 5 minutes later, he had successfully performed an executive audit on the aforementioned WaffleStompingChump, making sure he was fully pro-wack ready for times of real war, should they ever arrive, God forbid. 

Item B:

<UglyInbredGeorge[MR]> Operation is a go

<UglyInbredGeorge[MR]> Greenlight, Fanta

<Fanta[MR]> 1. Failure!

<Fanta[MR]> You failed to WACK! WaffleStompingChamp.

<Fanta[MR]> You pass

The only outcome of this situation that makes any sense to me is for WSC to thank junior auditor Fanta for his terrific work preparing him for tougher times. 

I would also like to note, ON the record, that while this was happening, I was invited by OldMan to partake in one of the WORST organized crime attempts I have ever personally had the displeasure of witnessing. It was nothing short of a travesty and an embarrassment and I made my thoughts known explicitly.

To: OldMan
From: UglyInbredGeorge
Sent: Jul 29, '25 12:33
Subject:

Really bad effort, very disappointing

Thank you. 

I don't think there's a judge. If there is, maybe he is stuck in the traffic or something. But let's not waste our time waiting for him, he doesn't have much role to play anyway. And since there's no judge I can go sit in that empty chair right there. I am tired after all that heavy lifting.

My fellow mobsters. One thing that we all hate (besides UglyInbredGeorge's face) is being called names. WaffleStompingChamp called me names and presented no proof. He called me a spy for some Bambi. Imagine, me, a spy. The thought is revolting. All I am is an innocent, hard working mugger. I have mugged my way up and filled my pockets with cash I stole from you gentlemen, and a few dozen guns I got on the way.

Now am I saying that Waffles got jealous that I was making more money through the muffins I make? Yes, I am saying that. Absolutely. He is a jealous man. But does it mean I will shoot him in the face just for being jealous? Probably. But not this time.

This time I shot this man only with one purpose in mind. To help him. Help him how, you may ask. So, let me take you on a journey.

Imagine. There is a war. And proers and shooters are being called upon. Now imagine your defense being so weak that you ask a proer of yours to shoot you but guess what you dead. Now isn't that embarrassing? It sure is. So I took a job under UglyInbredGeorge's as an auditor. My work is to test your defense. 

What I get out of this deal? Well I get a chance to shoot at you. I get bragging rights. I get a cool 5 credits towards my "feed my tummy fund". And ermm I forget what else. Anyway.

Coming to what you get. Well you get AUDITED. Plain and simple. You get to know if your defense works as intended. If it does, then good for you. You are war ready. If it doesn't, then your son or daughter will know exactly what not to do to end up like you. You weak piece of shit garbage.

Now am I advertising our business here? I sure am. Is there a judge to stop me? Hell no.

Coming back to the matter at hand. Once we decided to Audit Waffles, I requested auth from my CL to shoot. Since my CL was too busy chasing swans, someone else stepped up and gave me the blessing and the permission. 

I present to you my first and last piece of evidence which shall clear my good name. 

     WaffleStompingChamp granted your request to WACK! WaffleStompingChamp.

Now what did I say heh. I say we throw this case out of this court. If waffle has a beef with me he can gladly shoot UglyInbredGeorge in the face. It will only decrease his ugliness.

For anyone else wanting to take an Audit. Contact me if you have the balls. If not, I sell meat balls for $.25 cents each You can get them inserted inside you by a veterinarian of your choice.

Oh and if anyone else calls me to the stand one more time or takes my name in their testimony or argument or Judgment. You'll get a free audit on me. And this line will prove you accept to be shot at by naming me.

You've been warned.

The judgement of the people? It is just one blunder after another with you at the moment, WaffleStompingChamp. With a decision still looming over your head for reporting some absolutely irrelevant news about someone or other being authorised in Las Vegas - which I remain unconvinced is even a real place let alone one that I should be paying any attention to - sword of Damocles swinging mercilessly, and you decide to seek approval from the riff-raff walking the Streets? Who on earth cares about Rhys's opinion? Absolutely unforgivable. What's next? "Hey random New York nerd, can you tell me where the nearest gym is?" As if they would even know, barely one bicep between the lot of them and even that is only from lifting different books from shelves. Pathetic. 

This sounds to me like an absolute run-of-the-mill defence audit. Executed perfectly, which is a bit of a surprise with George at the helm, but credit where it is due, I don't see you lying in a pool your own blood, so I'm assuming you aren't dead, and now we know that your defences can withstand the test of a completely untrained, undocumented gun. Check and check. 

Shoddy, shoddy work on your behalf. As punishment I'm promoting you to RHM. If you step another foot out of line, you're going to be authorised alongside Monarch in the desolate wasteland of Corktown. I mean it, I'm fucking serious. DO NOT test me.

whats that about me?

i demand compensation for the slander

(i didn't read anything)

UglyInbredGeorge this was not the testimony I had hoped you would give. I expected a passionate defence of my integrity, a brutal takedown of Fanta showcasing that he's nothing but a SCOUNDREL and a FIEND, and perhaps even a few tender words about the importance of having YOUR COMRADE'S BACKS. But alas, your crooked, malformed, creepy, disfigured, deformed, gross and INBRED nose is so far up Fanta's ass that all you can smell is the citrussy aroma of oranges.

I am not angry, but I am disappointed. Alas, your testimony has been entered into the records of this case, which is written in orange-flavoured crayon and not pencil.

Also before I call the next witness before us I quickly want to quickly remark on a couple of things in Fanta's tesimony.

First of all, I DID NOT CALL YOU AS A WITNESS YET. Patience is a virtue, and the clever man knows when to speak and when to stay silent. If you don't do that you end up like Rhys mispronouncing German words you don't understand.

I present to you my first and last piece of evidence which shall clear my good name. 

THIS IS AN OBVIOUS FABRICATION AND I DEMAND THAT FANTA'S ENTIRE TESTIMONY IS STRUCK FROM THE RECORD, THAT HE WILL BE TRIED SEPARATELY FOR PERJURY AT A LATER DATE AND THAT HE IS THROWN OUT OF COURT.

I call my next witness, twigs.

You shot at WaffleStompingChamp's bodyguards. You killed xxxxxxx bodyguards.

 You had been warned. Yet what do I wake up to? You taking my name in your testimony. My proof is crystal clear and irrefutable. This case is closed. 

Now Keep my name out of your fucking mouth. Or else next time I won't do an adit on your filthy BGs

After my last shenanigan I have been instructed to let WaffleStompingChamp name me for the rest of the duration of the trial. After much thought I have decided if he plans to drag my good name for the entertainment of the masses, least I should get is get paid. 
Henceforth I have sent waffles a bill amounting to $50 million for the right to use my name in this trial.

He has 24 hours to either pay up, or once this lawsuit is over I am bringing in a defamation suit. Now I might not have much, or any fame whatsoever, but the legal system allows people to sue just about anyone for almost any made up reason, even waffles can sue, can you imagine. So why not a genuine reason this time. I shall ask for $500 million in emotional, physical and social damage, in my lawsuit. 

Now, in case anyone gets a funny idea to shoot me in the back or my face to get away with this defamation, just know I have recorded all the proofs needed and have saved it in an undisclosed, yet very safe location which you will never find. But my inheritor will. He will not only inherit the 35 cents I have, but he or she will also inherit the proof and file o continue my defamation suit.

Unless any of you want to be named in my counter suit, refrain from naming me or ask waffles to pay up $50 million now.

This is an outrage, I demand that reparations for my 46 dead bodyguards is added to the list of damages owed to me.

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, one important point continues to fly under the radar. I made it very clear in the closing remarks of my opening statement that a crime against sense and civility had occured, and yet hardly a mention of it has followed suit.

I would also like to note, ON the record, that while this was happening, I was invited by OldMan to partake in one of the WORST organized crime attempts I have ever personally had the displeasure of witnessing. It was nothing short of a travesty and an embarrassment and I made my thoughts known explicitly.

To: OldMan
From: UglyInbredGeorge
Sent: Jul 29, '25 12:33
Subject:

Really bad effort, very disappointing

OldMan delivered an organized crime that would make a Jerome look like criminal mastermind. I imagine the only person besides myself who's seen a performance as unsatisfactory and shambolic as that is his wife the last time he tried to give her the midnight express. The level of incompetency on display convinces me that if OldMan had a block and a square hole, he'd eat the block and put his head through the hole. 

In any case, I've just experienced a BG audit of my own, albeit anonymously, which is a strict violation of the auditors code and will likely result in the revoking of said auditors license, when they come forward in shame.

Jul 30, 07:30:32    An unidentified assailant shot at your bodyguards! They killed three bodyguards and winged a fourth.

Detroit airing their dirty laundry in public.

Haven't seen a PR mishap like this since Drieza rolled out of bed and forgot the worlds moved forwards 30 years, incredibly embarrassing for New York.  

Luckily we (FutureScare) managed to track him down VERY quickly and he hasn't been seen since.

RocknRollStaaaaar please don't interrupt the court case and stay on topic lest the judge will be forced to hold you in contempt of court and in contempt of UglyInbredGeorge's very important Organised-crime related and totally valid witness testimony.

WaffleStomping champ impatiently looks at his Bolex watch while sweat runs down his monobraw.

Where the fuck is that bellend twigs anyways.

I refuse to be slandered in public by my own city peers of Brooklyn. I've been hiding under a rock for the past couple weeks now and it's time for me to clear the air. When I had my moment, FutureStealer walked right up to me and asked me if I was high, and I said... I wish. Then for me to realize that I was high, and then I asked if she wanted me to leave. 

Spoiler: She didn't let me leave. She made me suffer in my own misery. Which I find extremely unfair, but there's still hope I get to kill twigs one day, so I'm holding on to that. 

INNER CITY CONFLICTS ASIDE.

This seems like PrettyBoyGeorge was just doing his legal duties of Hit Squad Leader. The same duties are assigned to Tangerine in New York and he does only a slight better in his role as Hit Squad Leader. He needs to make sure his men are ready in the very gritty reality of WAR. How else are the men supposed to practice emergency situations if it's not an emergency?

Tangerine doesn't practice this with us in New York, so I actually retract my statement. George might be the best damn Hit Squad Leader in the country, now that I think on it.

Calling twigs to the stand when he's the most unreliable witness anyone could have in the history of anything ever fucking happening. If you promote him for ass kissing then George deserves justice. 

Drieza, you're extremely right. It's honestly crazy. Every word, I was just nodding my head and going, 'Yes....yes....that's so true!'. The best hit squad leader in the country? You're too kind. But correct. I'm trying to keep my people prepared. We don't do 'drills'. We practice with live rounds because that's what war is like. I was going to say war takes no prisoners but it literally does. We prepare for that too. We put BillyNoMates in a windowless room 3 days ago and he's been surviving off nothing but wood chips. 

And what about OldMan and the worst OC ever committed? What about that, Drieza? It was a bad effort. I can accept failure but you've got to give 100%. You've got to get your head in the game. 

I have two pieces of evidence before me which I think are going to blow this whole thing wide open. I present to you Exhibit A (which is the first one, George):

Jul 30, 15:46:00    You earned $97,059 with the OldMan Gang for the crime Raid a Trucking Depot. Your entire group feels a sudden rush of adrenaline. OldMan wants to do that again!

and Exhibit B:

Jul 30, 15:49:04    You earned $99,000 with the OldMan Gang for the crime Raid a Trucking Depot.

Clearly, like any well oiled machine, an organized crime is a sum of its parts. In this instance, OldMan was working with premium, Detroit forged steel and the two raids went off without a hitch. You're welcome, OldMan. When forced to operate with a cheaper, too-narrow-eyed alternative, the outcome was, almost inevitably, "Georged" and ended in ruin. What conclusions can we draw from this, UglyInbredGeorge?

I'm finding it hard to put much stock in those, SimonTheSwanHunter. Even two broken clocks are right once per day, twice. My estimation of either of you is so catastrophically low, you couldn't have found two more uninspiring men if you spent a month camping outside self-confidence seminars for middle-aged bachelors. You deserve each other.

Jul 31, 09:30:06    You failed to Raid a Trucking Depot with the SimonTheSwanHunter Gang.

To be clear, this was your failure, not mine. It wasn't called the PaydayGeorge Gang. It was the SimonTheSwanHunter Gang. Think about that. Ruminate. Reflect. Find a way to be at peace with yourself, Simon. Eala, tell him what he needs to know about getting over natural shortcomings. I know you've had your share. Being genetically-normal, if not superior, I have little experience with how the other half live. 

Listen close, G-Dog. And I mean actually listen, not whatever it is your inner ear tries to do before it gets distracted by banjo music and the smell of burnt toast.

You called yourself genetically superior. Let’s start there. You look like a haunted potato and you smell like a dog that’s fallen in a canal. If I tossed you outside a cousin-based ecosystem, you’d curl up and perish within the hour. Your family tree? Not even close. It’s a stick. Damp. Splintered. Kept in a drawer somewhere dark, next to expired coupons and the instruction manual for a lawnmower nobody owns anymore.

And here you are, piping up in public like you invented fire and aren’t just holding a flaming turd with both hands and crying.

Let me be clear. If you ever mention my shortcomings again in front of an audience, no less I will personally submit your name for Right Hand Man to WaffleStompingChamp’s inevitable, soggy regime. You’ll be right there beside him, grinning through the chaos, passing out flyers no one asked for.

I’ll torch whatever sad little shack you’ve built near the 12th Street Public Toilets. I’ll audit your bodyguards, though let’s be honest  there are none. 

You’ll face something new. Something tailored. Something that reflects the values of Detroit Justice and your deeply unfortunate chin situation.

Think carefully next time you speak, George. Because if you aim at me, you better hope your cousin-wrangled DNA includes a miracle.

Eala, first of all, I appreciate you using my new nickname.

Your threats have been well received. I have very important work to do HQ auditing around the country over the next few days, and any idea that George's Stall - Detroit's premier outdoor toilet extension - may be at risk, is a burden I simply cannot share with my current workload.

I'm not sure what came over me comparing you to useless malingerers like Simon or OldMan. You're clearly better than that, given that I'm vaguely frightened of you. 

Leave George's Stall alone.