The Cosa Nostra Times
Issue I
G. L. Ronin - Editor in Chief/Current Events
TheLaughingMan - Reporter/interviewer
WiggleButt - Opinion/advice
MementoMori - Columnist
Dick Baggington - Satire
SpikeS - Poetry
Firstly, we would like to apologize for being late in our release. Editing and formatting took slightly longer than we expected. It is especially time consuming when the editor has children and other obligations outside of our world. But, at long last, it is finished, and we are proud to present issue one. We hope you enjoy reading it as much as we enjoyed writing it!
Simply Gardening
G. L. Ronin
In the earliest hours of a bitterly cold Tuesday in September, shots rang out through the skies of our six cities. All had seemed well for weeks, with the cities rearranging and recovering from the recent removal of Don Voodoo of New York. Alliances seemed cemented, and the powers that be seemed like they might stand forever.
Alas, nothing lasts forever, especially not in this life of ours. Mere hours after taking the mantle of Godmother Chairman of the city of Chicago, Duplicity led a select team of trusted hitters from Chicago, Detroit, Philadelphia, and Las Vegas into the night. The Siren’s prey? Those many assumed were her closest friends. They do say that when you die in this life of ours, when you get wacked, it’s not your enemies who come knocking. It’s your closest friends. And so Duplicity weeded out those in her inner circle she did not feel she could continue to build for a better future with.
Much has been said about this so called “group of friends” over the past few months. We here at the Times will not delve into all of that. However it appears that Godmother Duplicity did not trust those she once counted her closest allies. There are reports of attacks on her personal guards, on top of something she found in one of her ancestry’s journals warning her of what might happen if she put her trust in the wrong people. For the full explanation, a transcript of the Godmother’s speech can be seen here.
In all, only nine people were killed in the first wave. The most notable deaths were those of Family heads JohnHartman, Oblivion, and Sovereign. Technical of Black Bottom, Detroit, was spared due to the police intervening at the scene of his would be death. In the aftermath and scramble of that initial bloodshed, some twenty-four more mafiosi met their end, before Technical and Don Visas of Downtown agreed to a duel. After a coin flip, Technical shot and missed. Visas, however, did not miss.
After the death of Technical, somewhere between fifteen and twenty more unsponsored mobsters were killed, before Miss Duplicity came out with a protection order. The ensuing 48 hours saw more deaths of younger mobsters in their sleep, and the retirement of quite a few prominent senior family members, in protest presumably.
After the dust had settled, some were confused about what exactly had happened. Most just assumed that a certain “group” had been removed for fear of them returning to power. But a few notable mafiosi with known connections to this group managed to slip through and have, as far as one can tell, been given another chance to prove where their loyalties lie.
Other notable deaths include: Puffin, Senka, CloverLuxille, CullenBohannon, Princess, Butterfingers, Opei, Sereno, Major_Beard, Honesty_, Edge-, Chase, and Mave.
This has certainly reshaped our world, and it will be interesting to see the movement to replace some of the fallen leaders, and the filling of the emptied districts. Stay tuned!
Godmothers Galore
G. L. Ronin
The past few months have seen a return to the days of old, where our world was not graced by a single soul possessing the rank of Godfather. A string of violent mob wars left the country decimated and controlled by leaders too young for the title. It was a bit odd for the older bloodlines, seeing only dons as the highest ranks again.
But in the recent weeks, three godfathers have sprung up, finally reaching the plateau that is our highest honor.
Duplicity was the first to take the mantle, as she became Godmother Chairman of Chicago. Not long after her, Senza ascended to become Godmother of the South Side, one of the finer districts our world has. And just today, Visas has taken godmother of Downtown Detroit, and likely the chairman position as well.
The rising of these three ladies has brought over 3000 minions of TylerDurden out of the shadows, as they attempt to rip control from these new overlords in the earliest hours of their rule. But as always, they fail miserably and all end up being cannon fodder.
Barring any major conflicts, we should see a few more godfathers/mothers being made across the country, as more Dons reach the minimum age to take the position. Hopefully, they are all as deserving as the first three.
Killers For Hire?
G. L. Ronin
Shocking developments from the underworld the other day, as two prominent members of the mafia found themselves publicly hit listed.
SpikeS, Chicago Consigliere and Right hand to Don Kimble, had a hit placed on his head for $40 million US dollars by an unknown entity. No reason was given. The hit was bought off within 24 hours thanks to a combined effort of Chicago mafiosi.
Furthermore, a $10 million hit was placed on Fred-Flintstone, Right hand to Jaysanity of Los Angeles. The second hit was also posted by an anonymous source. The hit claimed that Mr. Flintstone was from the line of ChristianoRonaldo, a bloodline that is apparently widely disliked in the underworld. Not long after the posting, Mr. Flintstone confirmed these suspicions, coming into the open about his descent, shortly before shooting himself in his LA apartment.
It would appear that the revelation of his descendancy pushed Flintstone over the edge, and gave him the reason he needed to off himself, before those hunting him could do it themselves. It’s a shame that LA had to lose such a prominent member so early in their mafia revitalization.
Rumors are abound across the American underworld of a new underground group on the rise. Countless times over the years, usually after a war, a group has risen from the ashes of the fallen mobsters to place hits, go rogue, shoot bodyguards, or generally fuck with shit. Could this be the case again? This reporter has heard rumor of a warning being given out to the leaders of the underworld. “Anyone who houses the line of Ronaldo will find themselves on the hitlist.” Just how much money do these people have, and will it make any difference in our world? Only time will tell.
Dat Ass Interviewed
TLM
Another night, another coffee shop in the middle of nowhere. This night however was special. He was meeting the famed Visas here. This location seemed to be the best choice for them both, and importantly this coffee shop was one of the best places to get an espresso at 1:00am in all of Detroit.
TLM sat comfortably in his chair, rocking back and forth on it’s back legs as he hummed a slight tune to himself. He looked out the window, as a black car rolled up. He was early, as usual, and it seemed Visas was too. They were not to meet for another half-hour.
A woman gets out of the car, dressed in all black and enters the coffee shop. She walks over to TLM and offers her hand. This wasn’t Visas.
“I am Hayley. I was told to escort you to a place more… fitting for your interview with our mutual friend.”
“Our mutual friend?” TLM collected his things and stood, for he knew the drill by this point. “I had thought that after all the publicity about that… well, erm… rear of hers, she would be less secretive.”
“Just come along,” Hayley said, “You’re just lucky we don’t kill you right here and now.”
That was all TLM needed to hear. Following Hayley into the car, the two drove off to the headquarters of The Exiles.
The room was dimly lit, however the photos of the famed Don Visas seemed to cover every inch of the wall. Various poses and stances, displaying her most prized possession. TLM took note of each of them, as he peered back to Visas herself, who reclined in her chair. Hayley took her rightful place at her side, crossing her arms in preparation… or rather if things were to go sour.
“Right then,” TLM began, “So… the name Visas is quite an interesting one. Where does it come from?”
Visas chuckled, as she does, before answering. “My father, God rest his soul, named me after his grandmother. The Don Visas, Underboss of Hollywood… back in the day. He wanted me to be as good, if not better, than she was… Unfortunately he never lived to see me rise to his position.”
“A War, Don?”
“Yes… A war between Philly and Detroit, many years ago.”
TLM frowned. “But alas, your family seems to have quite the history yes? I’ve heard many things.”
Visas sat back and recalled a few memories before speaking. “You know… my lineage has only recently come into its own. My Great Grandmother, my namesake, was who really started the lineage, but I try not to dwell on the past. I like to think that I am better than who my bloodline was.” She rises to her feet, turning herself and running a hand down her voluptuous derriere. “I mean, really… have you ever seen an ass like this?”
TLM coughs up an awkward laugh, “Well, I mean…”
With that said, Visas calls to Fritz who brings them over a well-aged bottle of bourban and some glasses. Fritz pours the three of them a drink, and they cheers to celebrate the occasion.
“So Don Visas, what do you have your sights on for renovations of the great Motor City?”
Visas looks to Hayley, and the two giggle. “More nightclubs. The nightlife here has gotten so dull, we need more clubs, more dancing, more SHAKING OF DAT ASS!”
“I would only assume it would be colored purple, your favorite color?”
Visas smiles, “How’d you know?”
“I have my ways…” TLM replied, “Now this man serving us the tasty bourban, who is that?”
“Ah! My trusted bodyguard Fritz. He’s always been there with me when Hayley has not, or when Jake is off shagging some mobster’s daughter…”
Visas smirked as she wrapped her arms around Hayley. This quirked TLM’s interest. “You two seem… close.”
“Why yes,” She replied, “Trust is the main factor of my crew. Any man, or woman, that I have given the honor of being apart of This Thing of Ours, I trust one hundred percent. People like Duplicity, Hayley, and Jake Ballard… well, I would be lost without them.”
TLM jotted down some notes, “So do you think that this sort of… idea of Trust is what will help you to unify Detroit?”
Visas frowned, looking up at the ceiling, “I don’t think it’s about how I will help, but rather how each of the families will help to build a unified city. I learned that lesson from my namesake, that without a unified city, you will be doomed to fail. Thus, to make Detroit a viable city, a place worth working in, we need to support each other. I am not going to say it will be easy, or even perfect, but if someone can one day look back on what we did here and smile... then I will be happy.”
TLM smiled, “That’s a good way to think about it.” He looked down, “So I’ve always wondered. You mention Dat Ass a lot.. where did that whole joke come from?”
Visas looks over at TLM and begins to laugh before he eyes lock onto him with fiery vigor. “Joke?! Are you calling DAT ASS OF MINE, A FUCKING JOKE?!” Hayley grabs ahold of Visas, as Jake Ballard rushes into the room to aid, all the while Fritz (the head of security) ushers TLM out of the room. The sounds of breaking glass and crashing silverware can be heard throughout the headquarters.
An hour later…
TLM was escorted to another, cleaner room where Visas took her seat alongside Hayley.
“Sorry about that… Moving on. Detroit is quite the place, but I have to ask, if you had to choose any other city to reside in, where would it be?”
Visas gave TLM a warm smile. It seems Dat Ass was back in a friendlier mood.
“Having moved from New York to Chicago after the timely death of Tyrion Lannister, and now from Chicago to Detroit, I truthfully haven’t had a chance to really settle in. It’s been all sorts of confusing. But I suppose if I had to choose, I would choose where my namesake came from. The warm beaches of Los Angeles.”
“Interesting…” TLM looked to Hayley, who gave him a wink. “But what about your mentor? She authorized you to come to Detroit… isn’t that the best place for you?”
“Perhaps… but I was placed in Godmother Duplicity’s care at a very young age. She was an associate of my father, before he was killed in the war, so she really took me in when I was at my most vulnerable. Without her, I wouldn’t have been shaped into the woman I am today. So while my heart wishes to one day reclaim the city of my family, I am quite content with helping Detroit for the time being.”
“Well that is a good cause, as I’ve ever seen one. Thank you for meeting with me Don Visas.” TLM got up to leave.
“You’re just lucky I haven’t killed you yet.” Visas replied, with a wink.
Wiggle Me This.
WiggleButt
Yes Wiggle has his own column, no I didn't bribe anyone for this spotlight. Well depends on what you'd call a bribe I suppose but that will never become public knowledge so let's stick with the I wish I was popular scenario. This column is mainly about whatever I want it to be, I'll be blunt, unedited, nude and high off schrooms. There I think that's a well enough advisory that what you read here may never be undone within your memory banks. If you do enjoy, each addition I'll address matters or ideas from the community. Whatever you want to hear discussed then, as I'll remind you at the end, please contact me.
Many people enter this world on their own regard, many don't leave this world the same way they entered. There are a few who do, the ones who let things get to their heads, who can't handle the heat, or those who take their own life because of their own beliefs, and of course those who feel they would be best off departing after those who they claim loyalty too are deceased. They control their fate with the pull of a trigger. They feel it's the honorable way, and really no one can debate such a decision because well, no one can speak to the dead, as much as a lot of the community seem to believe they can.
Regardless which way you depart these very streets, impressions will be left behind whether you believe it or not. Each movement you make, each action whether vocal or not, is seen by someone. It's noticed, analyzed and put into history. Your very life can be a part of someone's journal entry, a part of someone's plan making, and someone's perception of the community as a whole. The young and fresh minds that enter this world are molded by what they learn. It's a monkey see monkey do kind of mentality. The impression left on these minds is the very path this world and you as a being within this world, are jogging down. So actions speak louder than words, and words can fall on deaf ears but having that in mind can also be a mistake being made, for words within this community never fade. Speeches by greats can be found in the hall of records in which all street appearances are kept. The world of crime is calculated risks, that is it and all it ever will be. Every step you make can define your outcome and basically how far you will make it.
Your actions reflect and basically give other members of the society a blueprint of what to expect once your offspring takes over your family tradition. If you fall into a routine you become predictable. Nothing worse in the life of crime than predictability.
Whether it's protecting your prostitution ring from the cops, or being one step ahead of your rival Mafiosi, the only way to be successful for a long time as a bloodline is to break routine. Perception can prevent rising ranks, perception can prevent being trusted, developing friendships, or relationships for that matter. Insanity has been defined as doing the same thing expecting different results for a reason.
Then there are some bloodlines who seem to have that it factor. The ones who are born and fed with a silver spoon. Good for them I say! It's a tough world out here, life isn't fair nor is it kind. The more you complain, the more you envy others, the more time you're taking away from molding your own legacy. Sometimes people are just born into the right circumstance, however putting blame on them for being successful is basically attacking your own intentions. Everyone is here to gain power and respect. That being said, just because certain people have this gift it means nothing; if you apply yourself, work from the slums, build connections, work hard for those who are closest to you, the respect gained will be ten-fold and cannot be mimicked. You earned that respect, you gained that trust and you have learned how to succeed. The confidence built by doing it the hard way will be far more positive on your self esteem than falling into the same path over and over. Keep it fresh, break routine, and work your tail off. The different aspects brought by each generation plays a role and leaves that impression I spoke of. So why not better the community as a whole and yourself along the way.
My very point of this column is to bring advice, my advice can be taken as a guideline if you feel like it may work, or it can be taken as banter. Each and every one of you have your own preference or beliefs so I know my words won't interest some. However I feel if my advice gets through to one new mind, or hell even one mind that's been around these streets for a long time whether by bloodline or leading then all the better. Try not to allow my street name to influence your decision on whether my words mean anything, but take the words in and give it some thought.
If you're impressed or think it's non sense all the same, contact myself via Mail. Feedback is welcomed whether positive or negative. Those who can take all walks of criticism to mold change or improve appearance will be stronger for it in the long run.
Also I'll be taking questions that someone may want addressed. Anything and everything can be used if you want to hear me state my advice or opinion in a column let me know. I can't address a topic of interest if I'm not aware that anyone is interested.
So stay calm
And
wiggle, wiggle, wiggle
The Poetry Corner
SpikeS
"Ode To a Turkey"
Once upon a time, there was a turkey named Jesus,
And that turkey loved when ladies stroked his genius,
In the streets and his headquarters, they'd come,
Running to chase him down to give him some dark rum,
But that bold turkey would accept none of the sort,
And so he'd find a nice quiet hiding spot deep under the fort,
Many thought he would be Wild downing his whiskey,
But he was quite a nice turkey when strolling, tipsy,
Back out to the streets, fearful of November weather,
The turkey would spread out and parade every feather,
People would check to make sure he was well basted,
While the ladies wondered passionately how he tasted,
Every so often he would find time to let out a "gobble,"
And would dream of private times spent with SpuffWaffle,
The turkey would proudly don his gravy splattered suit,
And all thought his sweet meat was as tender as fruit,
Often, he'd gobble and run out into the dark forest at night,
And many would wonder of his doings, being far out of sight,
In his stays in the woods, he was truly hiding from hunters,
In his faint heart, he would daydream of endless summers,
But with Fall beyond approaching, he would soon be roasting,
And he was quite fearful of those who were about poaching,
"Gobble," he would say with his face biting into a pillow,
On the horizon of a hill, his feathers would rise and billow,
"Gobble," he would cry as he charged at the wee children,
The prepubescents would cry to mother for speedy penicillin,
Deep peck marks around their eyes and their throats,
For winter months, they would wear their blood on their coats,
And remember the powerful turkey with all his red rage,
Moist and greasy, a wild Kimble turkey Simply cannot be caged.
No Filter
Dick Baggington
When Ronin first approached me to write for this pile of garbage, I immediately told him to swallow a bag of nails. My writing days are long behind me, and I'm certainly not what you would call "satirical." I'm just blunt. Unfortunately, being honest spreads sandinvaginaitis.
However, when he told me I could be completely anonymous, and write whatever I wanted, (to an extent) I jumped right on ship. Prepare to be insulted, ridiculed, and jealous of my comedic genius.
This week, I'll be grading the names of the numerous "crews" across our beautiful landscape. Starting With New York and Ending with LA. Que scrolling down to see what it says about your crew. I was inspired to do this by the great Gwarble. Or was it Chuckle? I dunno, one of those cunts once "graded" all the crewleaders in the country. He was blunt, honest, and hilarious. I can't hope to do quite as well, but I shall try. Only I feared that the butthurt would be too grand if I did the same, so I decided to simply grade the names they've given their actual organizations.
New York
The Zoo | B- | I like this, because now she can call the whole city “Zoo York.” But on the other hand, who wants to name their crime family after a place where animals are kept behind bars? Isn’t the idea to stay OUT of prison?
La Famiglia Gato | B+ | Solid, but nothing special. Using Italian gets you bonus points. Might be the most realistic of all the names.
La Casa Spurgeon | C | Much like the one above, only this poor lad was so unlucky as to be named Spurgeon. Whenever I read it I only see splurge on. One might think it was a poorly named porno.
Polaris | B | Naming your crew after the North Star is pretty solid.
Philadelphia
The Wild Hunt | C+ | A tad confusing. What are they hunting? And why is the hunting party so wild? Or am I missing something here?
The Philadelphia Production Company | C- | I’ve never much liked family names that have the city’s name in them. Just a tad bland for me.
The New Nexus | A- | I love this one. The definition of Nexus is “a connection or series of connections linking two or more things.” It’s a more intelligent way of calling yourself the new family. And we all know how important "connections" can be around here.
Chicago
The Chicago Outfit | F | Didn’t strain any muscles thinking this one up, did ya.
Greystone | C- | I’ve never seen it before, I’ll give you that much. But you can’t really blend in any better than a grey stone, now can you?
The Siren’s Call | A- | I like this one. On the outside, they are beautiful; but deep down, they’re killers at heart.
Evolution | B | Not bad. I don’t really know what else to say...I like your suit though, bro.
The Morningwood Elite | B- | It’s a classic, JTG. But it’s getting a tad old mate. Kudos for sticking with what works for you though, I suppose.
The Penose Cartel | C | When I first saw this, I thought it said the Penis Cartel. I did a double take, like, how did the gods let that one slip through??? Indeed, when I did some research, I found that the English slang definition is “A nose that looks like a penis.” I actually snorted my coffee up my nose. However it also might be Dutch for “underworld.” I think it much more likely the latter is true.
The Hardcases | D | What is a “hardcase” exactly? How does one become a hardcase? It’s not even a word. Now if you meant The Hard Cases, that would be understandable. That would mean you’re a lot of tough and gritty people, which I like. Unfortunately, when it comes to a family name, spelling and grammar count quite a bit.
Cidade de deus | C- | I *think* this is Portuguese? Is there a mafia in Portugal? Fuck if I know. I know it’s a neighborhood in Brazil where that one big statue of Jesus is. It’s not very original, and I generally frown on anything religion related being in a crew name.
Detroit
The Exiles | A- | I like this, because, in a way, we’re all exiles. From the “real world.”
Dreamchasers | B+ | Isn’t that what the majority of us are?
Tanzini Crime Family | B | Split on this one. On one hand, it’s obviously not very original, and a touchy name for more than a few. On the other, it’s nice to see that name around these parts again.
Jake Ballard's crew | F | At the time of publication, his family has no name. You suck. Get your act together.
Las Vegas
Pyromaniacs | B+ | I like to burn shit.
Hiiipower - the kindling division | D | What in the sam hell does hiiipower mean? The only reason this isn’t an “F” is because it keeps with the whole fire theme Vegas seems to have going.
The Red Lotus | C+ | This could go either way. On one hand, a lotus can be a large water lily. Lame. On the other hand, in greek mythology a Lotus was a “legendary plant whose fruit induced a dreamy forgetfulness and an unwillingness to depart.” And that just sounds brutal as fuck.
The Arsonist Gang | B- | Kinda the same thing as pyromaniacs. But I still like burning shit.
Almas de Fuego | C- | Pretty sure this is Spanish. And unlike Italian, having your mafia family’s name in Spanish actually loses you points. But I’m pretty sure Fuego means fire, and even in Spanish, I like burning shit.
Los Angeles
White Base | D | I honestly don’t know what to think of this one. My first impression was white supremacy, but first impressions are often false. One of our reporters asked Tizla himself, and he said it was a branch of scientology. Sorry, but naming your family after a religion is touchy to me. If Scientology is considered a religion? I’m not sure. In review, glad you’re not racists, still not the best choice in naming a crew.
The New California Republic | B | I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen a State name in a crew name. It’s a nice change over people throwing “Shitsville Crime Syndicate” or “Turd Town Committee” out there.
The Wolf Pack | D+ | Seen it. I think from more than one bloodline if I’m not mistaken. Do better.
Well, that wraps up my "column." If you don't like what I had to say, kindly suck it.
Bye.
Classifieds
If you would like your business to be listed in our classified section, please contact the chief editor's office between the normal business hours of 8 pm to 5 am.
Uno Memento
Welcome one and all to my disturbing little section of this wonderful paper. If you're here for the latest gossip, something witty or something intelligent move along! Now each and every week I'll be including a riddle of sorts to see which of you is actually able to read through all of my nonsense. We'll start it off nice and easy, won't even hide the riddle this time... I swear!
I’m looking for my gun this week, and I can’t seem to remember where I left it because I was out all last night celebrating the coming godmother of Detroit. I awoke to the smell of baby oil, a few clothes thrown about the room and a hairy shirt laying next to me on the bed. Obviously something crazy happened but that's not what's important. Eredin is doing gun checks today and I can't find mine. If it's not in order by the end of the day today he'll probably lock me up in the dungeon again. I've retraced my steps over and over again, I remember something about stopping by a few bars in Detroit last night... maybe one or two in New York and Philadelphia as well but I don't remember taking my gun out there. I found this note in on my night stand this morning. I also found a citation from officers Dalton_Deleon and Amalia for drunken and disorderly conduct. I can't seem to remember anything that happened last night and I am far too hungover to go and find my gun myself. So I guess I'm asking you readers to find my gun; there will be a reward of 5 Credits to the first person to bring me my gun. Or don't and let me get tortured for a couple of days if that's what you'd prefer.
Yours truly,
Author of Uno Memento
Shocking news right as Issue I is about to be published.
Don Seph, leader of Las Vegas, and by connection, Los Angeles, has abruptly retired today. He has left behind six subordinate crews, not to mention his own, to fend for themselves.
We have no idea why, or what happened. Like most of the community, we have been caught completely off guard.
Details in the next issue, surely.
-Other things you can (probably) look forward to in the next issue-
-Horoscopes
-A couple more writers
-Actual classifieds
-More people dying
Thank you for the read, we hope you have a fantastic week, America.
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