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| The New York Times: Volume 1 | Started by: Rhydian-Roberts on Nov 28, '07 23:57 |
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The Rid stood on the corner of West and 23rd, New York City with a slight grimace upon his perfectly scrubbed face. The rain poured heavily down and after pondering his situation under an umbrella for forty-five minutes, The Rid decided that he would most DEFINITELY rather be over at his place in the South Bronx. Granted there were more social undesirables in the area, but at least they were friendlier, nodding greetings as they passed you by with a dozen or so stolen welfare checks lightly billowing from their back pockets as they went. But the source of his ire was much clearer. It was the Newspaper Stand that he stood behind, accepting 50 cents from passers by with a forced smile as he handed over copies of the New York Times. This was the latest in a long line of bad assignments that the Boss had him on since that "discussion" the villainous Ron "Fireball" Mexico concerning individuality. Rumor had it Mexico had survived being doused with petrol, set alight and then allowed to burn solidly for forty five minutes. The Rid guessed that if ANYONE knew about individuality, it was probably him. Nonetheless he had to accept that joining a conversation after ten glasses of Bearhuggers whiskey and something in a tall glass called: "The abdominizer" was probably not a good idea to start with. His subsequent disagreement saw Ron nearly double in size. Raising a toast to his health, The Rid got the hell out of there and never looked back. What the hell did they call that place again? He scratched his head but couldn't remember. By the time he called into the Bosses place the next day, beat-up woozy and soaked, he found they'd pulled his numbers on Coke and H and pulled him off Prostitution. Okay so he had scruples with the last one so it wasn't so bad, but letting him move less powder? Now The Rid was a Goomba. The Rid wasn't entirely sure what a Goomba was, but he didn't like the sound of it. He nodded his thanks to a passer-by with a grimace made even worse by the cold and reached for a copy of the New York Times to hand across the stall. Damn them all The way to Rid's basement. No-one wanted to be down there if they could help it. THE NEW YORK TIMES: VOLUME 1 50 Cents Proudly serving the Five Boroughs of New York and the Nation COLLATERAL DAMAGE AS REPORTER COOKS THE BOOKS! By John Q Law It was with a heavy heart that the New York Times learned of the sad demise of Mafia Tribune reporter Collateral. Tribune Editor RileyFreeman was forced to break the sad news to a dismayed and in some cases tearful public. Issuing a brief statement, Mr Freeman was clear and unequivocal in his reasons for dismissing his employee, stipulating financial irregularities that could not be reconciled and are believed to have consequently led to Collateral being shot a number of times in the head after leaving a premises rumored to be a local Speakeasy, in what is reputed to have been a mob hit. An inside source who did not want to be named told the Times after viewing a mugshot provided: "Sure that was him. He had that press badge and was talking to the barkeep all day about fishing in Oregon. He had a bulky suitcase with him and was drinking like a retired Judge on a Sunday." Police put the time of death at around 5:13PM from multiple gunshot wounds to the head. The Mafia Tribune acted quickly, hiring new Lead Reporter Clay_Davis is a matter of hours. We at the Times wish the handsome Mr Davis all the best. And in a separate development the Times had learned of more personnel shifts at the Tribune as the sultry Miss inocent_azn has joined their team as an advice columnist. Warning that she will not respond to stupid questions, inocent_azn will provide a welcome boost on a personal level to all those with serious problems that need answering. We wish them well. LEGAL EAGLE BIGGER THAN CHRIST: SHOCK CLAIM By SuperSpud They say only Jesus rose from the dead twice. Should this be factually true, DennyCrane is most certainly on his way to emulating one of the world's most famous sons. In a shocking development Mr Crane, a founding partner of top legal firm Crane, Poole and Schmidt, was listed as "missing presumed dead," a number of days ago. A subsequent quick call from the Times to the authorities confirmed the justice system's deepest, darkest fears. A spokeswoman said simply: "I can confirm it is true, Mr Denny Crane is dead." The Spokeswoman refused to state a cause of death and this in turn led to wild speculation. Sightings of DennyCrane were reported in New Mexico, Peru and Angola and many competing theories arose as to what had happened. Many chose to believe the local theory, namely that Mr Crane was torn to death by a pack of rabid wild dogs shortly after leaving his plush New York apartment, with paramedics finding only a tie clasp and a bottle of his favorite Scotch atop a large tree a few hundred yards from his home. This theory gave way to suspicion that Crane had taken his personal yacht: "The undefeated" out for a sail and headed towards the sunset with no goal in mind save for an epic photo opportunity. Other rumors suggest that Mr Crane came very close to losing a case and likewise the ability to reapportion the blame to his learned colleagues. The shock of a nearly losing an unblemished 6,043-0 record was reputed to have driven him insane and led him to reevaluate a misspent life. Talk of cults and work the FBI as asset emerged as a result. It was to everyone's surprise that Denny Crane himself emerged triumphantly from the cold clutches of death, apparently unscathed. The Times has no idea where he went but it is useful for column inches and he remains on retainer to address our many legal complications at any time. DEATH OF A DON A special note from The_Grim_Reaper It has been oft quoted that the death of one is a tragedy, while the death of millions is a statistic. The death of a Don technically has no place in this quote, especially since none have died recently, but it can be spoken of in the same breath in light of the death of DonCorleone, despite serious misgivings from the Editor. For Don was a Don. However not in the traditional sense of the word. Having claimed many a poor soul myself over the years I'm inclined to respect title. After all, doesn't that song say: "It doesn't matter if you are a king or a street sweeper, sooner or later you have to dance with the Reaper?" So when the blue light called me to the passing of another soul at 3:27pm on the day of the 28th of November, I was forced to check my notes. Don as I understand looks something like this: 1. (initial capital letter) Mr.; Sir: a Spanish title prefixed to a man's given name. 2. (in Spanish-speaking countries) a lord or gentleman. 3. (initial capital letter) an Italian title of address, esp. for a priest. 4. a person of great importance. 5. (in the English universities) a head, fellow, or tutor of a college. 6. (in the Mafia) a head of a family or syndicate DonCorleone was none of these things but he had a beautiful singing voice. He was sent from this world through gunshot wounds to the head, as so many are who do not take an untimely fall down the stairs. I know the Earthly reason for his demise, but I care not. Why not let a real reporter tell you? It's not like I'm getting pai...(Thanks a lot Death. Ed) DEATH OF A DON PART TWO By Best-Served-Chilled DonCorleone, gangster to TheCult family of New York was found dead in an alleyway after a reported altercation that was reportedly witnessed by a passer-by. No gun was found on his corpse, leading to speculation that he was disarmed before being shot down. TheCult have released no comment at this time but police sources confirm his son LordVultLuk was also shot dead a few hours later, having sworn revenge on TheCult themselves for allegedly killing his father for breach of the famed "48 hour" rule. WIN A DATE WITH RON MEXICO! By Michael_Vick The night of November the 23rd saw NikkiPhoenix appear in Las Vegas to announce a very special contest on behalf of the Las Vegas Working Women's Association (WWA) and not to be confused with the World Wrestling Association (WWA), an organization formed in 1909 by a man with a ring and a vision known only as Tie. In a heartfelt plea, Miss Phoenix stated the dangers of Mexicosis and invited bidding from all across the land to win the charms of the infernal cad. The bidding started quickly in the form of 15 dollars offered by New Romantic Alfieri. Red_eye also stood out with a princely offer of nine pennies but an offer from Mr PeterPetrelli of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars (or $250,000 for those with reading difficulties) had the audience sitting up straighter in their chairs. This was deftly countered by Oliver_McTavish, who slapped down three hundred thousand dollars in a manner that onlookers described as bearing an uncanny resemblance to how one would slap the life from a newly caught fish by a river bank on a fine spring morning. Bringing the bidding equivalent of a solid hook however was Wisteria, with an offer of $550k that no-one was doubting was serious. This was countered again by Oliver, the seemingly unstoppable heavyweight of this contest. A late sucker punch by RockBottom, delivered with devastating power failed to carry the day and Oliver_McTavish was duly announced winner, bringing an end to the bloodshed. Observers claim Oliver put a fireman's lift on Ron and carried him away up a steep set of stairs in a manner that was anything but platonic. We'll bring you more as it happens, including the total funds raised for the WWA and whether this in turn inspired them to do any work. THE EXECUTIVE GAME By Rhydian-Roberts Poker is poker. Like throwing rocks and chasing women, it's something of a gentleman's sport. It was with great pleasure that I took this to another level with an announcement on the Executive game. Operating from The Cult's home in New York it was my distinct pleasure to invite bids for the 500k game. The New York coffee shop High-Rollers duly emerged and the bids came faster than an electrician on a Saturday night on triple time. With all fees paid up and in the hands of my fiendishly well-dressed Boss Thulium, the final table is as follows: Webster Trauma -Rubik MolotovMcHugh PeterPetrelli Oliver_McTavish Rhydian-Roberts PrimoSidone Moretay Drinks and food will be provided, all players need ring is a pearly white smile and nerves of steel. At the present time the players are being hunted down from their relevant activities during the day. When the Executive Game goes down and I predictably win everything, New York will be proud to announce an even larger tournament, complete with elimination rounds and an even bigger prize. get yourselves over to High-Rollers coffee-shop in New York City for more information. X-FACTORY TOUR IN RECALL SHOCK By SuperSpud It was bound to happen. The Big Apple leg of the X-Factory national tour has been cancelled after compere and host Rhydian-Roberts was struck down with gastric flu, prior to a crucial cloak and dagger meeting with a Miss Cathy_Parks outside The Blues Bar in New York City to discuss arrangements. The Blues Bar, owned by Hatter-Madigan is no stranger to music, with many promising musicians frequenting it's hallowed halls. With positions still open on the big band for drums, saxophone, bass guitar, lead guitar, piano, trombone, clarinet and another position described by Rhydian as: "The bloke who plays the triangle" The tour itself is rumored to be in danger as primary investors The Aristocrats of Harmonics or AOH consider withdrawing funding. Early reports indicate one of New York's favorite son's Gaara has turned down the position of triangle while Cthulhu and TylerDurden both turned down everything to focus on their solo careers, careers that thus far actually sold a few records of the weepy Italian ballad variety. SPORT Baseball: Philadelphia's Eddie_Dean finally confirmed the rumors as being true. His Great-Granddaddy WAS the guy that broke all the records. He was indeed the greatest baseball player to ever live as the Times always believed. Eddie is also rumored to be handy with a bat. He broke a guy's arm last week. Pool: ElainaDeLuca won TheCult Pool Hall hustler award, beating gourmet_chef_ in a not-so-tight contest when the chef potted the black in the opening three seconds of the final game, then rushed off to prepare a steak for the HQ. Boxing: GoldenGloves won a rigged fight in a very convincing manner last Saturday night. Unfortunately he was supposed to go down in the fifth and was last seen looking for a gold watch believed to be a family air loom. Sailing: Superspud narrowly lost a sailing contest in New York's very own Hudson river. After donning her admirals hat things improved to a point where she eventually reached Greenland, confounding all reasonable geographical logic and bringing the concept of chips to an otherwise undernourished land ADVERTISEMENTS: New York Lottery Contact Pop-Eyez or Carlitos-Way depending on how you like your odds. |
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Alas...tales of my legendary skipping abilities were not mentioned in this publication. For shame... Gaara looks at the new silk suit he had for Rhydian and walks away |
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| Reply by: Gaara at Nov 29, '07 00:13 | |
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Nikki approaches the newsstand with large sunglasses and a large mustache covering her face and a long black trench coat concealing her identity. She was going for incognito, but it came off more Ron Mexico than anything. Still, she pulled out the envelope and whispered to the distributor. How much will the paper pay for an artist's rendition of said 'date' between Misters McTavish and Mexico? |
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| Reply by: NikkiPhoenix at Nov 29, '07 00:19 | |
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The Rid looked worried as Gaara began to walk away, his hunched figure stepping through the puddles as he went. Christ, this was like a sad poem someone had yet to write....Probably entitled "New York Blues" or something similar. The silk suit was tucked under his arm as he walked. The Rid thought about it for a moment. Perhaps a vague promise to get Gaara in there somewhere would see that silk suit return in his general direction....After all, he was rumoured to skip like Rocky at his best Gaara it's the sub-editors my friend! You think I'd leave you out like that? For arm-wrestling alone you are worth a double page spread. When you beat that kid in the finals I nearly cried. Remember? The one with the withered arm? The Rid turned quickly as a moustachioed gentleman approached. Damn fine moustache, that. They needed more Italian waiters in this town.... I imagine something like that would command a hefty fee sir, but I could always put my best men on the case...I know a guy who is good with water colours and such is my command of the english language that I could describe how a hot-dog felt after it was stolen from its rightful owner by a seagull. Right down to the complex emotional issues relating to an earlier kidnapping as an...erm...Smaller hotdog? |
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| Reply by: Rhydian-Roberts at Nov 29, '07 00:24 | |
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| *Inocent_azn nods thanking John Q for the warm welcome* | |
| Reply by: inocent_azn at Nov 29, '07 00:27 | |
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Gaara wipes a tear away from his face and turns around to face Rid Well....I wouldn't have thought YOU would have left me out to be honest. And yes a double page spread sounds interesting! Perhaps next time I could be the main story! I could imagine the headline now... "Gaara blasts away infantile opponant" The publicity I.....you would get. Gaara leaves the wrapped up suit by the stool, and waddles off waving his walking stick around in the air Whoop wooop woop woop... |
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| Reply by: Gaara at Nov 29, '07 00:34 | |
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Well let's not get carried away now Gaara. I wouldn't have just stopped at "infantile" I'd have added "disabled" into the mix. It was a local charity thing for God's skae. Held in the house of God. Why were you even there to begin with? I TRIED to talk you out of it but would you listen? NOOO. Always so damn headstrong as usual. I bet your're proud that he cried, right? |
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| Reply by: Rhydian-Roberts at Nov 29, '07 10:45 | |
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At this point I'd like to add, the New York Times will pay out 100k to anyone with a decent story, though I must stress the word "decent" and the Editors decision is final in the event of any disagreement. Any advertisements can be placed for free and I am the first contact point for any correspondance with the Paper itself. Also, feedback is greatly appreciated! If we wanted to publish a paper and then sit on our humps, then we'd work somewhere with a population of around 2000..... |
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| Reply by: Rhydian-Roberts at Nov 30, '07 00:10 | |
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Lordy... what a splendid paper there Rhydian... Good job. Spud flicks through the pages and grins How often are you planning to put out editions? |
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| Reply by: SuperSpud at Dec 02, '07 17:30 | |
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The Rid looked up from his stand. He'd been watching two magpies as they engaged in what suspiciously looked like a fight and was wondering if this was good luck or bad luck, when a man dressed as a potato appeared. Ach well. You got all sorts around this part of town. He never even gave it a second thought. After all, perhaps this entreprising chap was on his way to rob a bank.... Well now my friend. I do indeed intend to put out more editions. Volume two will be available quite soon. The proprieters speculated on a weekly endeavour, but when there is news there is news eh? And right now it certainly appears there is news. |
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| Reply by: Rhydian-Roberts at Dec 02, '07 18:54 | |
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| I certainly look forward to this next exciting edition! | |
| Reply by: DonCafone at Dec 02, '07 19:20 | |
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Observing the seller for a brief time before rummaging around for some change, Fisk takes a paper and browses the front cover, interested in the piece of publishing "I hope this to be a fine read, thank you for your time" |
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| Reply by: Fisk_Capizzi at Dec 02, '07 19:49 | |
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Spud steps over one of the many bodies littering the streets. Oh aye... splenty of news after the last 24! I may get my typewriter out and contribute again myself. |
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| Reply by: SuperSpud at Dec 03, '07 04:57 | |
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