In my long reign as King of Detroit, I have had to endure a lot of stupid people and not all of them are even just TonyTheTailor. You've all heard the expression 'heavy weighs the crown', but the circlet upon my brow has apparently been gorging itself at an all-you-can-eat annoying biff buffet and is now trying to crush me. If it wasn't for my mammoth neck, I'd probably already just be crowned majestic shoulders. 

High on the list of my problems among the ranks of my loyal subjects is my own person gavage, GhostofHeadCoach. You have probably never even heard of this guy but allow me to paint you picture and please know it is drawn entirely in faeces. 64 days old, from a lineage famed for being butchered twice by Telkin, who can't even get 25 units and still he takes it upon himself to swagger around Bricktown for the 0.8 hours a day he shows up, earns nothing, takes a payday and breaks one of the fundamental rules of the city by talking to Con@twigsliere. 

No more. 

I said to him today after another such incident of annoyance, "if you do that again, you're out of here." My cadence was perfect. Everyone thought so. 

Tetley said something lame; you don't need details about it. Just look at him and imagine his sad potato mouth was moving and you'll get the gist. Gneiss and BuddyBigPaw could barely keep their adoration from their eyes. SlimRagnarok just looked happy to be mentioned. 

Coach though, almost as proud as he is stupid, decided to threaten me instead of doing what he was told. "7 hrs (couldn't even be bothered to say hours, the fucking maggot) until my next payday Big Si." 

Unfit to repoint the lowest perp of my ivory tower and this cockroach dares to try to scare me? Me? Absolutely not. Get to fuck. I thought 'I've had enough'. "I've had enough," I said, effortlessly majestically Simonly. The room was silenced. twigs especially looked completely cowed and compliant, almost as if he had received another scary message from the warden. 

And so he should because I have had enough: GhostOfHeadCoach is done with Swanfree Swansong. He's out. Gone. No more Mr nice King. Upon the day this sack of shit gets the nod to reach 25 units, I'll be drowning him to within an inch of his life in the 12th Street Public Toilets, carving 'Big Si' into his fat cheek, and leaving the keys to a piece of shit business I don't care about anymore in the toilet bowl next to his melted face. Bon voyage, as they say in Spain. He will be forced to run his own 5 man operation, tossed out on his saggy bottom in shame, known to all as a twice-Telkin-bested outcast. As cursed as the Detroit Public Library, the living embodiment of the smouldering effigy of Hobbs.

I expect everyone to spit on him whenever they see him and to remember what happens if you test me (and can actually get yourself to 25 units). Shame auth.

This forced authed, which I'm totally on board with, must be in Corktown. Bricktown, the most glorious city in all of the land can't be besmired by GhostOfHeadCoach and his short comings. I put forth the notion that BillyNoMates be sent with him, as punishment for being another bin dipper who doesn't do very much. 

The truth is, Simon, this is barely a punishment at all. When I finally achieve 25 units, I'll be glad to have the privilege of buying a HQ and recruiting 4 nincompoops that I can babysit all day. I'm already working up some crew rules. Rule #1: have fun. That's a good one. Rule #2: ha ha. That's an extension of rule #1. Rule #3: stop tickling me. That's just to make sure we put some limits on rules #1 and #2. That's good leadership. 

When I'm an old man, I hope to look back fondly at one or several of my nincompoops being incogs training to go rogue on you. We'll say, 'How did he miss that?' and I'll just nod, not understanding anything on account of my severe CTE. 

TonyTheTailor, thank you. Send me the money you were tipped for a HQ please. It's rude to profit off my big celebration.

TomJoad approaches the gathering. He is wearing a fedora and drinking out of a flask...

"I am happy that some decent leadership is finally coming to Detroit. I was just about to write it off as another city infested with ghouls, goblins, ghosts, vampires, and their ilk. This is thinking outside the box. This is doing something original and making things interesting. This is what leadership is all about. Well done, GhostOfHeadCoach. Hopefully Simon will learn from your example and grow into a fine leader, himself."

"But, of course, we can wish for that to happen all day long, but it's an unreal expectation. I am looking forward to the day that you supplant him as King of Detroit and I will be the first to refer to you as 'Big Ghost'. Or maybe 'Big G'. The possibilities are endless. Big King Coach."

GhostOfHeadCoach, you are the proverbial fart in Church and the sooner your stench is out from under my roof, the better we are all going to be. Speaking of smelly doofuses, what a surprise (not) that jealous old TomJoad takes a break from walking in dog shit and eating spam straight out of the can to offer his support, such as it is, to a fellow reprobate.

When you stepped down/were forced out as Godfather of Chicago, I was hoping to see distinctly less of you, not more, and here you are questioning my leadership. The leadership of the champion warlord of the most popular city in the country no less. A hero recently blessed with a 61st unit that he doesn't even want or need. Less? Barely worth it. Any more? Try hard dorkiness. But 61 is the sweet spot, Tom. The Simon soul at the heart of things everyone strives for. The juicy jam-filled centre. You wouldn't know what that is, forced to lick the crumbs out of the box after your betters have had a munch, not even slanted as you are, which I guess isn't a surprise after your last stint as LHM (for Spike) hardly ended well. Get back to the communal trough. Take GhostOfHeadCoach with you. No trades for good members today, Tom, hit the bricks. 

Also, Slim, I fully agree that GhostOfHeadCoach is not fit to operate within the boundaries of Bricktown. However, the desolate wastes of Corktown, barely recovered from the Monarch plague which brought them so low, present a pleasing vista to my eye when I sit upon the balcony of my ivory tower drinking tea, thinking about how I am better than everyone. So I think I would prefer to see GhostOfHeadCoach's moronic bulk failing in plain sight. I do however fully endorse your suggestion that BillyNoMates should also be thrown to the wolves, or in this case, to a big fat comfort eater, and I'll be making arrangements to that effect as soon as Coach climbs out of the 12th Street Stall with his button and his brand. 

TomJoad is a good man. I especially enjoyed how he was wearing a fedora and drinking out of a flask, and how the entire time he was speaking it felt like he was just a moment away from flipping up his coat collar and smoking a cigarette. If Simon were half that cool, I wouldn't hate him so much.

I've worked hard for him. I've taken my paydays with regularity. I've even begun training my gun. And what did that get me? "Stop shooting at my bodyguards, wah wah wah". 

The sad reality is we live in a cruel world, where this egomaniacal tyrant can spring auth on any unsuspecting victim, at any time, regardless of whether they've only registered 0.8 hours in the last week into the crew work logs, or how many Telkin's are around to kill them. 

My mind goes to UglyInbredGeorge and the thought of how dangerous a HQ door can be, when a normal man conducting a simple audit can be murdered in cold blood just for approaching one. What saddens me more than anything is that I'll now have to pass through a HQ door every day - a living reminder of what and who we've lost - and what's even sadder is that it won't just be to collect a payday.

I began offsetting the damage to my economy some time ago. You might think that would be via donations but GhostOfHeadCoach is both too cheap and too lazy, the WaffleStompingChamp special, to have contributed positively in some time. Instead I have been forced to pick clean the pockets of Coach's shorts to get my recompense:

    Oct 14, 12:52:13    You PICKPOCKETED! GhostOfHeadCoach. You took $15,000.

    Oct 15, 13:59:56    You PICKPOCKETED! GhostOfHeadCoach. You took $15,000.

    Oct 16, 09:27:23    You PICKPOCKETED! GhostOfHeadCoach. You took $15,000.

It is a slow grind unfortunately given Coach's regular absence from the Streets but I remain hopeful that I can at least stem the bleeding.  

Does anyone hate their own crew as much as SimonTheSwanHunter? You work hard and dedicate nearly multiple hours of your life to lifting him up and he punishes you with public insults and cruel nicknames and auth. 

You might see my expulsion to a 5-man HQ as a kind of exile from greater Detroit society, but to me it's an opportunity. When I recruit my five nincompoops, they are going to be my pride and joy.

Whenever I choose to heave my fat skeleton back out into civilization, BillyNoMates in tow, the citizens of this cratered city are going to cower and whimper as we rumble through town like orangutans on a jailbreak. 

Meanwhile, Simon's people suffer under the yoke of his oppression.

Eala is a walking protein shake. Bret is the victim of multiple wack attempts. No one is allowed to talk to twigs. And Simon sits in his office all day thinking of ways to insult Tetley. Ask Interlude or SlimRagnarok how much better life has been in Corktown, where the sun shines and the birds sing in the morning. There hasn't been a living bird in Bricktown for years. I don't think Simon even knows what a swan is. His psychosexual obsession with QuackersFeatherbeak has just led to him killing anything with a beak, while we all stand around with our eyes darting across 'interesting' things in the sky so we don't have to look at what's happening in his pants. 

I can't even repeat the profanity directed my way when I had the audacity almost to be murdered.  I genuinely felt that my very lifeblood was nothing but an inconvenience to him.  

It makes me question why I donate every penny I have to joke why I'm undergoing specialist training in proactively. minimising allied pro-wacker casualties.he has September.

For what?  I just want a chance lead a crew and be referred to politely by Curtis.

Normally I avoid Corktown like a plague, I mean who doesnt? But GhostOfHeadCoach just told me TheNewGuy is haboring swans in Corktown. How fucking dare he? In the infamous words of Twigs....Corktown gotta fucking go!