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Letter from the Editress
Lucretia
Taps the microphone Is this thing on? I have just passed legislation outlawing the Soviet Union. The bombing will commence in five minutes. Wait, this is a print column, what the heck am I testing? I'll keep this brief. The New York Post launches its premier issue with the promise of maintaining the most rigorous standards of truthiness: any and all statements printed within this paper are too convenient to be false, were gathered by a crack team of investigative journalists, and have been relentlessly fact checked by a certified team of yes-men. We hope you enjoy, and maybe even learn something.
Newspaper Wars Rock the Eight Cities!
Lucretia
November 15
NEW ORLEANS -- In a shocking development, the normally mundane newspaper industry was rocked by the first instance in which an argument over the mere publication of a periodical itself escalated into a life and death struggle between the various publications. What should have been a joyous occasion for us all, the launching of a new paper in these cities, spun out of control quickly after a competitor took offence at the timing of the debut issue. The public altercation lasted several tense hours on the streets and resulted in one dead, several egos wounded, and the alternating annoyance and amusement of the few folks paying attention.
Where to begin? Well, it's easiest to begin the story on the morning of the thirteenth, around the time Recro was waking up. Stepping outside clothed only in his Street Fighter IV (TM) Snuggie (TM), Recro mistook his copy of The Mafia Times for an advertising flier littered on his driveway and made his way back inside. After receiving a bit more criticism but also support from various mobsters offering to assist in improving the enterprise, Tommy-Gato returned to the thread on the 15th with a promise that rather than hang it up, he would deliver another improved paper in the coming weeks. Bravo! Criticisms should be met head-on, not skirted.
Unbeknownst to those of us just looking for a morning paper, dark feelings stirred just under the surface for a few disturbed writers. Shortly after b9gangster delivered his own morning paper these undercurrents violently surfaced. Ruaidhri, an earner from New Orleans, rushed to the scene to describe the paper as "better than some others I have saw [sic]," while Tommy himself, in a much less gracious manner than previously exhibited, was seen stating "Wow,you [sic] basically copied everything I had in my paper and skipped lines in between every sentence to make it look longer." Following this, several writers argued over whose idea was "first," whose newspaper was superior, and in the process various gratuitous insults were slung.
Sadly, this article could go on for several pages depicting the petty bickering which occurred as a result of whatever megalomaniacal needs these publishers had to air their dirty laundry in public. Thankfully, it won't. Dear reader, if you missed it the first time, you were luckier than the author. Suffice it to say that the scuffle reached a high point around the time when Mr. Ruaidhri publicly declared his incompetence, informing everyone that he only narrowly survived an attempt to kill Tommy-Gato because his bodyguard valiantly took the bullet for him. Continuing his streak of bad decisions, he then insulted Rhuarc and his Right Hand Man El_Nino. Shortly thereafter his new shoes were poured into place, and at last there seemed to be a bit of peace and quiet. Did I mention this was all over whose newspaper was better or more original or something? Yeah, seriously.
So there you have it, folks, the puzzling story of newspaper executives giving up their white-collar crime and going at it like a bunch of thugs. Thankfully, the uproar has seemed to die down (no pun intended) in recent days. In the end Tommy-Gato adopted a more conciliatory tone, offering to withdraw his publication in order to prevent further conflicts over its contents, and issue three of the Mob News by Pavement was quite thorough in its coverage of recent events. All in all, it was a relatively peaceful ending considering the amount of vitriol poured on the streets.
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Point/Counterpoint
A Weekly Column by Lucretia
Point: WillHayes Is A Zombie - The End Is Nigh!
Zom B. Noird
Ladies and Gentlemen, as you may know, I am a man of science. I am not given to melodrama, religious meanderings, or unfounded argumentation. So when I tell you that even now as you read your morning paper the greatest threat our eight cities have ever known is on the rise, please, freak the fuck out. No one has ever lived because they stayed calm instead of forcing their way to safety: just ask those guys calmly waiting their turn for lifeboats on the Titanic. I would normally recommend finding shelter in deserted LA, but nowadays that's not the greatest place to get away from the dead, and frankly I think we're screwed no matter what.
I wish it were a dream. I wish this were just another bad movie. But it most certainly is not. We are this very day witnessing the beginning of the zombie apocalypse, a time when the dead walk the earth again and one by one infect the rest of us until not one human survives.
You don't believe me yet, but just examine the evidence. Early on the night of the 17th witnesses reported seeing the grotesque smoldering corpse of a god-smitten WillHayes prominently displayed in Times Square. The corpse was twitching slightly but otherwise unresponsive, even to the distinctive musk of Iota walking by. That's when the craziness started happening, and I don't mean that CrazyNine fellow Deimne let into a new HQ; later that evening, the mortician found that the supposedly scorched body had apparently healed itself and could no longer be recognized as having been smitten. Oblivious to the danger to us all, he continued with his funeral arrangements. The next day the final proof was delivered as a groaning WillHayes banged his way out of the coffin as it was about to be put in the ground, causing the gathered crowds to scatter in terror at the sight of the living dead.
Ladies and gentlemen, there can be no explanation for this series of events except that WillHayes is a zombie. Any professions to the contrary are being made by government-trained body doubles for the purpose of keeping us calm while the world ends. I, for one, do not intend to go quietly. I intend to get laid, and with the dead living once more and desperate for human contact, for once that shouldn't be a problem.
Counterpoint: Hallelujah, He Is Risen! The End is Nigh!
Reverend Falwell
Brother, praise the Lord! Have you heard the news, oh brother? This is the coming of the Age of the Lord, and I have witnessed it! Can I get an Amen? (Amen!) Can I get a hallelujah? (Hallelujah!) I have seen the Lord's works and I know it is good. Oh yeah, I feel good, brothers.
Now hear me testify! Oh, I was down. I was down and out, brothers, real low. I was questioning my faith, living for the moment, just trying to scrape by. Oh Lord, I was in a crisis ever since I had seen a great man struck down. You might even say I had lost faith in the Lord, questioning why such an event had happened.
But it was just when I was at that lowest point, when I needed the most strength to carry on, that the Lord heard my prayers! WillHayes was dead, but now he is risen! He was sent to us to cleanse the world of evil and bring peace to us all! WillHayes, executed, dead, buried, walks this earth once more to bring us salvation! Hallelujah!
Though the end of days may be upon us, the Lord hath heard our prayers and sent us a great champion savior, Jesus Reborn, to save us from ourselves and the Antichrist! Praise be to WillHayes, the second coming of Christ!
We report, you decide. WillHayes: Zombie or Jesus?
Click here to cast your ballot.
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Welcome, Imperial Hawks: An Interview with CrazyNine
Youngsta
November 19
NEW YORK - In the midst of a confusing string of events regarding WillHayes (See Point/Counterpoint, B2 supra), New York Godfather Deimne granted authorization for former Right Hand Man CrazyNine to set up a headquarters within the city limits. The New York Post proudly welcomes CrazyNine as New York's newest leader, and thanks him for the opportunity to conduct an exclusive interview on the circumstances of his headquarters purchase and his immediate plans for his new station.
Can I ask what happened the night that, WillHayes disappeared? Did Deimne approach you or did you offer to help the situation?
Well, I had been talking with Don Hayes about family matters and we had called it a night. In hind sight, I guess we shouldn't have drank so much as you all know by now how that went. I went straight to sleep it off when I receive a phone call from one of the Godfather's trusted associates. He told me Will Hayes was dead and that they needed me to make sure to keep the HQ open so we could make sure all of his members were safe. I was given the direct order form the Godfather minutes after that.
Now how long had you been bold before Will was resurrected? What were your thoughts at this point?
It was a matter of mere hours. 36 at the most. To be honest, I was repulsed at the situation. I was hoping to be authed eventually, but I didn't want to come in through the back door as an emergency solution. I wanted to come in through the big door with Will Hayes and Godfather Deimne proud next to me while appointing me their next Family leader. Instead I spent what should've been one of the best days of my life mourning the death of one of my best friends and a mentor in my life.
When Deimne granted your wish to remain as a boss for New York, did you at first hesitate? Was there a part of you that wanted to carry on working for Will even though you'd been granted this great opportunity?
I guess you can't really call it hesitation. It was more a bit of a mourning sensation. The death of the guy that was hoping to learn so much from Will Hayes by working at his side and the birth of the one appointed by the Godfather to lead his own family. But in a recent talk I had with Don Hayes he honored me and complimented me beyond expectations when he said he always saw me working with him side by side and that it didn't have to change at all now that I have my own family. So our bond is as strong as ever.
Can I ask what your plans are for the future? Do you have any big ideas for the city or any particular avenue you wish to take your family down?
To be honest, not many at the moment. That was another reason I would've preferred to be authed in different circumstances, so I could have been better prepared.
Fortunately, there are many great leaders in New York I can borrow ideas from while I slowly turn them into my own with my own flavor and come up with ideas of my own. For the time being, I'm concerned with making sure all my members are safe are have everything they need to excel and be great mobsters. In time, I'll start expanding and working on some unique ideas for my crew.
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Fizztastically Smitten
Don Keypunch
November 19
SAINT LOUIS - This past Monday we witnessed another blooming St. Louis auth. Fizztastic, the long time Right hand of Rourke, was setup to house a roving band of groupies in STL. For good reason as well. We all know being Rourke's Right hand was always a chore, not only having long hours but also frequent visits to the office. Really this must have made her wish he was a switch hitter. Either way, Fizz had definitely deserved it after all that (flaccid) work.
Quickly amassing an army of followers and attracting some big names, Fizz looked like she would takeover the world all without chipping a nail. (Take that Marietta.) Then not even 72 hours after opening her doors, a bolt of lighting that shone from the heavens struck down and smitetastically exploded her and her Right hand Rizztastic, truly cementing their title of Master Exploders.
The circumstances were not announced publicly, though rumors from the coffee shops abound of a profane mobmail sent by Right Hand Rizztastic. A funeral followed shortly after, where many mourners shared their confused tears and anguish. RUPRUP guys. Way to set a positive example for the eight cities.
Mafia Zeros
Don Keypunch
November 18
Mafia Zeros is a weekly article taking a deeper look at the people behind the ranks (and often times army of Bodyguards.) This week: the life that was Rourke.
Rourke. The man. The legend. The King of eating meat. This past hump-day dear old Rourke took his life, for reasons heretofore unknown. This skilled reporter has dug down and uncovered the chain of events and has discovered the reason why!
Wednesday afternoon, a regular day to most workers. Behind the scenes however was the third annual "Shove your face full of my meat" contest, hosted by none other then the champion of meat packing: Rourke! The competition was fierce; boiling down to 3 contestants: BrianRourke, Iota, and Rourke. Brian as per usual failed to do much of anything, which left Iota and Rourke to fight for the championship. They were neck and neck. Rourke, not one to be outdone, bellowed out a "lol, not me matey" and quickened his pace. Little did he know the true power of Iota the eating machine, who in one fell swoop gobbled up the rest of the food on the table along with a bit of a very drunk Will Hayes' leg. (It went unnoticed.) Rourke was usurped by the Whale-Man himself, Iota!
The crowd cheered while a crane lifted Iota around the room in celebration. No one paid attention to Rourke, who stumbled out into the back alley, a mess of a man. Unless you yourself have felt the crushing blow that is Iota doing something better then you, you know not his pain. It was at this point Rourke lifted his gun and let out his final "not me matey" and pulled the trigger.
For this reason, Rourke is our Mafia Zero of the week. Let us not mourn the loss of a man on the decline, but rather all the joy he brought us. Rest well sweet Rourke, you are still better then Brian.
Tune in next week for the Scandal behind Kates. Her hair may be flowing, her chest expanding but there are more then a few men in her closet. See what the Detroit Don is hiding next time in Mafia Zeros.
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Saint Louis Welcomes Bobblegob
November 20
Lucretia
SAINT LOUIS - Following the deaths of St. Louis Godfather Rourke and Boss Fizztastic, Don Grassboy wasted little time before moving to shore up the skyline in the Gateway City. Although St. Louis has had a rocky beginning, strong leadership can surely turn this fate around and make the city prosperous once more.
In explaining his decision, Don Grassboy told his version of the previous four days, the roughly 48 hour period between Rourke's suicide on the 18th and Grassboy's speech on the 20th. Problems of general relativity aside, he explained that Nikolai "Death-Knight" Bobblegob had earned the position since he had "shown great loyalty to me even when times were hard." Perhaps more importantly, Grassboy also mentioned Bobblegob qualified for the job by excelling at the dangerous task of riding on the coattails of his father, Death-Knight.
Lest anyone be mistaken over whether the lineage of the late Godfather was in fact authed again, Nikolai "Death-Knight" Bobblegob then proceeded to deliver his own speech, opening with three paragraphs devoted to how it came to be his American father - did we mention his father Death-Knight was American? - gave him a Russian name. After explaining the name, Death-Knight's son moved on to more important matters and expressed his joy that he could "still be thought of a great man for what my father did" before paying homage to the late Godfather Rourke and introducing his Right Hand Man and family, The Luzhniki Soviets.
All things considered, we wish Death-Knight's son luck in upholding the high standards of a captain in Saint Louis, and expect that he shall bring the same level of excellence to the city of Saint Louis which he had brought to New Orleans. Since he's Death-Knight's son and all.
Briefs
Congratulations to Brianrourke on his recent birthday! The extensive history of BrianRourke's last year can be found via Grin's discussion of the matter, and is a work of art which no summary can do justice.
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