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| A Day In The Life.Pleased to "Meat" you. | Started by: SilvioCastellano on Mar 16, '09 20:31 |
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The day was like any other day. I woke up early I the morning, did the three S's and got ready to go to work. I know what you're thinking, big fuck'in deal, right? Well,my job isn't like your job. Some would say that my job is cruel and inhumane. I say the whole idea of sitting behind a desk pushing a pencil and busting your ass from 9 to 5 making some other fanook rich is cruel and inhumane. Sure, my line of work isn't exactly easy...but I love my job. You see, I am part of a brotherhood...a family. We look out for one another and our community. We don't take orders from some corporate jackass in a suit...that corporate jackass takes orders from us. Well, at least if he still wants to maintain the use of his extremities any way. My family runs the city of Detroit....the family is divided into six crews, all of whom have a territory that they are responsible for maintaining. To put it simple....there is nothing that does on in this city that we don't know about or have our hands in. We've got our meat hooks into the local politicians, law enforcement officials, the DA office all the way down to the union leaders, and business licensing administration. We are successful because we have connections in high places. You see, it's not what you know, it's who you know. Whenever there is a major construction project going on in the city, our connections help our businesses secure the bid. When they need workers for the docks or for a construction site, our unions get the work. When things start to go sour and it looks like there could be some heat coming down on us from the government, our connections with the politicians, law enforcement officials and the DA's office make it all go away. Like I said, it's all in who you know. My family gets its pockets lined by union bosses, corporations and small business owners throughout the city. They pay us a reasonable tax to allow them to operate and we ensure that they can operate freely within our city to do their day to day business......and those that don't pay....or refuse to pay? That's where I come in....I guess you could say, I'm the tax man. If you don't pay your taxes to the government, bad things happen to you. If you don't pay your taxes to my family....even worse things happen to you. I left my apartment and headed over to the location I met up with my crew leader every morning so he could give me the low down on what was going on and what loose ends he needed me to take care of that day. He was a good man.....firm, but fair. As I entered the back alley of the building I was told to meet him, I saw him standing up against the wall smoking a cigarette. He looked up at me and smiled. "Hey, there he is.....how's it going you crazy son-of-a-bitch?" Funny thing about us Italians....we love to bust the balls and insult the ones we love. Most people would be offended by a greeting like this, but it was all water off a duck's ass to me. Besides, Veil out ranked me and was my superior...even if I didn't like it, I had to take it. "Not much paison...." I greeted him with a firm handshake and a customary hug. I reached into my inside coat pocket, pulled out an envelope and handed it to him. He opened the envelope just enough to peek inside. He fanned his thumb across the wad of bills inside and smiled. "It was a good week....got a few more new clients. Oh, and Rosa from the bakery say a hello and wants to know why you don't come to see her any more. Anyhow, what do we have today?" The man smiled at me at the mention of her name. For some reason, the sweet old Italian lady from the bakery had really taken a liking to my crew leader. Maybe he reminded her of her son or some shit, I don't know. "Okay listen Sil....Skip says that old man Garvino retired from his butcher shop and gave the business to his son....and now his son feels that he doesn't need to pay our tax. The Skip would like you to remind him why he needs to pay for our protection." Typical....the older generation understood how the game worked and accepted it. But this new generation of douchebags always think that they have to try and stand up for themselves and try to be the tough guy. "You tell the Skip not to worry about it. I'll take care of it. I'll be back later with his first payment." "I already told him that....I knew I could count on you to get done what needs to be done. I'll see you later..." With that, we went our separate ways....no questions asked. That's how it worked in this thing of ours. The skip passed down an oder to my crew leader and he passes it along to me. He doesn't tell me how to do my job because quite frankly, he doesn't care how it gets handled...just as long as it does get handled. Besides, I am good at what i do and he knows that....he has trust in me and I in him. I made my way out of the alley and headed towards the butcher shop on foot. It was only a couple of blocks away and took me all of five to ten minutes to arrive. I noticed that there was quite a line inside the shop when I got there, so I took a moment to light up a cigarette to let the crowd inside die down a bit. Once the last customer was being serviced, I put out my cigarette and went to go inside. As I came to the door, the customer exited the shop and another man tried to follow me in. "I'm sorry sir, the shop has to close down for about ten minutes, come back in a little bit." "But I have to get my veal cutlets for my restaurant for our lunch special and this place has the freshest meat in the city." Sure, I may be a prick, but I am a reasonable man. I could've easily smacked the little schmuck around like a school girl if I wanted to, but it was bad for business to lean heavy on a civilian that you weren't doing business with. The idea was to have people's respect on the streets...not to have them fear you. Sure, a little fear is good when it has a purpose, but not in this case. I reached inside of my pocket and pulled out a $100 dollar bill. "I tell you what my friend, take this for your trouble. I know you need to get your veal for your restaurant, there is another butcher shop a few blocks away. I really need to do some business with the owner right now....so the least I can do is compensate you for your inconvenience. The man took the money, smiled and walked off down the street with no other questions or comments. I opened up the door to the butcher shop and stepped inside. The man behind the counter looked at me. "Hi, how can I help you?" he asked. I didn't say anything to the man. I simply just shut the door behind me,locked it and flipped the "Open" sign on the door to "Closed." "Hey, what are you doing? You can't do that....I've got a business to run here! Who the hell are you?" I looked at the man with a dead stare and he knew instantly who I was....well, not literally who I was...but he knew who I represented and why I was there. "Listen pal, I already told your ginny friend that this shop is done paying you thugs. Tell your boss to go fuck himself and find someone else to extort because I'm not intimidated by you...." Is this guy fucking kidding me? He's not intimidated by me? He might not be now, but he will be. I slowly walked overt the man still not saying a word to him. He continued to launch a barrage of verbal insults and threats towards me, but his eyes betrayed him. Although his words were sharp and he acted tough, his eyes told a much different story.....he was scared shitless. As I got close to the man, he reached for a broom of all things and held it up to prepare to defend himself. I don't know if he thought the sudden move would deter me from coming closer or what. But if that's what he was thinking...he thought wrong. "You better get back, I'm warning you....I'll smash your teeth in.....you better get out of here....I'm gonna........" WACK! It's truly amazing how one well placed shot to the throat incapacitates the ability to breathe yet alone speak. The man instantly dropped the broom and clutched his neck gasping for air. I reached into my pocket, pulled out my pistol and smashed the butt end of the handle right into the bridge of his nose. His nose exploded like a big zit and blood sprayed onto the wall and counter next to him. He grabbed his nose letting out a silent scream as he was still struggling to catch his breath. I drove my foot into the side of his knee taking him down to the floor on his knees and pistol whipped him one more time for good measure. The man was a bloody mess and still struggling to breathe. I looked over and saw a large meat cleaver sitting on the butcher block next to him and without thinking, went back into action. I stood the man up and slammed him into the butcher block with force. I grabbed his pants, undid his belt and ripped his pants and under wear down to his knees. Relax you sick fucks, I'm not that kind guy. It was time to teach this cocksucker a lesson he would never forget. He tried to struggle but I blasted him a few more times with the handle of my gun. He was now able to cry out in pain....he was still gasping...but he could at least breathe. I spun him around so he was facing the butcher block and grabbed the meat cleaver with one hand and pulled his little prick stretching it out over the butcher block with the other. The man began sobbing uncontrollably. "Oh God....please....no....God no....." "You don't want to pay your tax....you think you're a tough guy? I hope you already had kids, because you won't be having any more!" "God....no....please...I'm sorry....I'm sorry...." "Yeah, you're sorry alright you cocksucker....now you're gonna see what happens when you try to act like a tough guy and disrespect my boss." "No...no....No....I'll pay...I'll pay.....I'll PAAAAAAAAAAYYYYY!" WACK! The man let out a blood curdling scream as the sound of the cleaver hit the butcher block. It took him a couple seconds to realize that I didn't chop his dick off....I just slammed the cleaver down into the butcher block acting like I did. The man looked down to see that he hadn't been castrated and began to weep hysterically. I let him go and he crumbled down to the floor in a ball still weeping and trembling. Then the sorry fuck pissed himself right there on the floor. I walked over to the cash register,opened up the drawer and emptied it. I put the money in my pocket and looked at the man. "You better thank God that i am a more forgiving man than my boss. I'll be back every Friday from now on. I expect an envelope....$500 a week. It better not be short and I better not have to ask you for it when I come in here. Otherwise, one of your customer's is going to get quite a surprise the next time they order Italian sausage, capische?" The man just looked up at me and nodded with tears still in his eyes and trembling in fear. I can't say i blame the guy. Just the thought of having my dick chopped off is enough to scare the shit out of me. "And for God sake, pull your pants up and go clean yourself up.....look a you....you're a mess. See you in a week." With that, I walked over to the door, unlocked it and walked off down the street back to find my crew leader to give him the Skip's tribute and let him know that the problem has been taken care of. I know...I'm one sick fuck right? That may be true, but I got the job done and that poor bastard will never be a problem again, you can count on that. |
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| its sooooooooooooo long! | |
| Reply by: Red at Mar 16, '09 20:33 | |
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| take your ADD medication and try again in an hour :P | |
| Reply by: SilvioCastellano at Mar 16, '09 20:35 | |
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| damn man I hope you shook your head well after that. Neck gets stiff after staying still so long. | |
| Reply by: JimmyTheLionHeart at Mar 16, '09 20:39 | |
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What are you talking about, Red? Very well done, sir. I may disagree with your methods... but you can't argue with results. Excellent read and I hope to see more in the future. |
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| Reply by: MacLeod at Mar 16, '09 20:39 | |
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What can I say? I liketo write ans sometimes I just get going and can't stop myself. Thank you MacLeod for the kind words. |
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| Reply by: SilvioCastellano at Mar 16, '09 20:42 | |
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| Maybe you should aply for a job in the newspaper? | |
| Reply by: Hickey at Mar 16, '09 20:46 | |
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| Nice story mate. | |
| Reply by: LuckyLuciano at Mar 16, '09 20:47 | |
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| Great work sir, i really enjoyed it and hope to see more from you. | |
| Reply by: TinchyStryder at Mar 16, '09 20:51 | |
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| Nah, newspapers have their own agendas and they want you to write things with their political spin on it insteadof writing about things i like. I come froma game where you had to roleplayfor everything you wanted in the game. You want a gun, rp for it. You want money, rp for it, you want to wack someone, rp for it....I'm still adjusting to this game. | |
| Reply by: SilvioCastellano at Mar 16, '09 21:11 | |
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What game are you talking about? MacLeod calls a convenient nurse to check Silvio's temperature. Feverish, as I thought. To home and to bed with you, until you can perceive reality correctly! |
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| Reply by: MacLeod at Mar 16, '09 21:14 | |
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| See what happens when yuo start to sample your own merchandise? You become dillusional.... | |
| Reply by: SilvioCastellano at Mar 16, '09 21:15 | |
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| Very long read, but very good as well. | |
| Reply by: Higgs_Boson at Mar 16, '09 21:21 | |
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| thank you higgs | |
| Reply by: SilvioCastellano at Mar 16, '09 22:01 | |
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| Long, but still a excellent read. | |
| Reply by: Dah_Kurlzz at Mar 16, '09 23:14 | |
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| What i mean Macleod sir, is that it is long. lol | |
| Reply by: Red at Mar 17, '09 19:54 | |
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To be honest, I have no respect for the judgment that uses a one-liner to criticize the work of somebody that obviously invested his heart and a long time in this work. I'll be honest on how I *felt* while reading it. I liked the first two paragraphs, but the chit-chat in the middle was difficult for me to read through (I took Silvio's advice and popped half a pill of ADD med). Once Silvio got into the store, I was hooked though and it was very good stuff all the way until the end. |
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| Reply by: Adrian at Mar 17, '09 20:21 | |
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| I appreciate the constructive criticism Adrian....I shall take noteof what you said and put what i have learned to use formy next installment. | |
| Reply by: SilvioCastellano at Mar 17, '09 22:04 | |
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| Um, what game is this? | |
| Reply by: GinoCeaser at Mar 17, '09 23:08 | |
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| game? | |
| Reply by: SilvioCastellano at Mar 17, '09 23:52 | |
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