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Gwarbley Barbleing
The Giggling Souls, The Crackerjack Death Reapers, The Drunken Monkeys. Yes, we really do have some shitly named families here at Mafia Returns.
In a week with such commotion, you may be wondering why the Barble has chosen to identify the poorly named organizations of Cosa Nostra in its opening gambit rather than something about the fall of a Godfather, the city of Los Angeles and another removal in Las Vegas. A legitimate question and one that has a legitimate answer. Fuck you. If you don't like it, make your own paper. Reckon you could make it to eleven issues? I don't. I don't reckon you could make it to five issues. I'm challenging you right now. Join Mux and the other chumps we journalism'd into submission. Haven't got the balls have you? Didn't think so. There is a reason people are making noises about us satisfying the requirements for the Mafia Tribune and should totally bring it back and people don't even know who 'you' are. Yeah. Fuck. You.
So anyway, with You firmly back in check, the Barble has been busy this week. Our death list is being thinned by the day and we couldn't ignore our critics any longer. We killed them so now they aren't an issue.
Hoopi has been put on gardening leave pending his eventual sacking sometime next week. We hope that he'll be sacked from life soon as well, but for the moment we've just kicked him out of Gwarble Towers. He's been moping around New York ever since offering his 'services' to the highest bidder, which of course was nobody with $0 and even this was a bit expensive for Hoopi. He struggled to deal with the rejection and the last we heard he'd been parked outside Cap'n Bob's Pirate Fun House and Male Go-Go Bar saying that he'd walk anyone's plank for some juice.
We haven't been slow in replacing him and we've given his usual spot away to a new writer. First of all we offered it to Colin. Then someone had to translate it into 'idiot' for him to understand it - thankfully lolcat was on hand to do the honours. It quickly became apparent that Colin's picture of a badly drawn five-legged cactus done in half-eaten, yellow crayon wasn't going to suffice. We asked Evangeline if she wanted to come out of the shadows and actually produce something but when we told her that Hoopi was finished she burst into tears and no assurance from me that he was probably dead, something that would cheer most people right up, brought a toothy grin to her horse chops. Finally we sunk low enough to try to lure Cow from his pasture and fill the void, but he just collapsed in the grass when we tried to talk to him, so surprised was he that other people had actually noticed he was still alive, and he hasn't been able to rise since.
Out of options and a gaping hole (easy) lacking its usual limited quality filling, we accepted begging from an outsider. It has been common since the Barble became the greatest paper in MafiaReturns history that one of you no names rolls up to Casa Barble cap in hand, drop to your knees and ask for the honour of having your greasy words in our majestic pages. To a man these clowns have been mocked, ridiculed and sent packing. One clown in particular just wouldn't learn the lesson and day after day he came whining like a little bitch to our door desperate for us to accept his awful musings. When he heard of Hoopi's demise he kicked and screamed until finally we relented and let him submit an article in Hoopi's stead. This clown, who for the sake of naming an idiot (not Deimne this time), we'll call Firefly, was still even lower in our eyes than the common Colin so we didn't let him in to the Towers. Instead we only let him onto the property for inspiration, so he made his article in the pasture beside the fallen Cow and slipped it under the door when it was done.
I can't make any promises for it, but at least we didn't ask shelly to produce anything else.
Small graces.
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Kerrruption in Las Vegas?
by Firefly
Remember when we saw four aspiring, young and refreshing auths in Las Vegas? I know, neither do I. Either way, from what I can gather, four relative nobodies were set up together and told to work together to rebuild the fallen fort of Cryptic. I feel the need to remind you that his death was courtesy of the Barble Death List incidentally. You're welcome. Anyway, the four got off to a bad start when the Chicago auth, Miss Fabulous, was found leaving the fence to whore members. Well, for a Chicago auth, leaving the fence is a death sentence in itself so needless to say that less than fabulous* crewleader ended up dead.
The latest one to enter the obituaries column was a chap called Mystery. The biggest mystery to us was how this individual got auth to be a crewleader in the first place. Renowned for having a set of loose lips, the Los Angeles contribution to LV died due to a reason that I'm sure is a total mystery** - oh wait, loose lips. Fancy that. Kerrrupt, don't try and say "the walls have ears", that makes it sound like it wasn't Mystery's own fault. At least give him the credit for screwing it up. I'd also like to take a second to take a quote from Mystery's original auth thread. "Congratulations, buddy you'll do good for the city of Vegas and I know you to make the brightest decisions."
Lolz DonGani. Lolz.
So what's going on in Las Vegas? Is this a coup d'état from Kerrrupt or just a series of fuck ups? If we presume the former, then so far we've had a member whore and someone who can't keep their mouth shut when necessary. Richard_Kuklinski and Kerrrupt are the two remaining, and I offer forth some options for them.
1) Take a wild shot at a high ranking New Yorker. That always goes down well.
2) Trust a reputable fuck up to be your Right or Left Hand.
3) Bitch to someone about Gwarble and how mean he is.
Alright, the third one might not get you killed but it needed offering as an option. I'll let you two fight it out amongst yourselves about which one you want to die for.
* You see what we did there?
** Seriously, I'm here all week, unfortunately for some.
(If you would like to know why Mystery was killed, the actual story can be found here.)
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Horrorscopes
by Bob Liar
Capricorn
I don't like you Capricorn. I never have. I see these star signs as my children. You are more of a ginger step child however, and as such I see it as my duty to beat you and lock you under the stairs. It's my aim to drive you to suicide some time towards Friday.
Aquarius
1 chicken breast, ˝ tablespoon Dijon mustard, ˝ tablespoon low fat natural yoghurt, pinch dry mixed herbs, black pepper. That's the ingredients for your dinner for one. Its dinner for one every night for you isn't it, you tragic loser.
Pisces
You will spend most of the week sat at home alone with your dog. You will realise sometime around Wednesday that your dog has been dead for 3 weeks.
Aries
The conjoined twin that you were separated from 30 years ago will track you down this week. They'll want their half of your intestines back. They will kill you to get it.
Taurus
You've got some nerve, Taurus. Showing your face round here after what you did to Libra's aunty after a few rums. Avoid Libra on Tuesday as that's when the truth will sink in and believe me, Libra will not be happy about it. Aunty David was his favourite.
Gemini
Sometimes you can feel the pressures of life breathing down the back of your neck. You can feel it now. Only it's not the breath of life, it's the breath of Colin, and he's just ejaculated on your back.
Cancer
You will contract mercury poisoning this week. You will get it from obsessively checking your rectal temperature. FYI, 43.5 degrees is too hot. It's a chaffing burn.
Leo
Fuck off Leo.
Virgo
Virgo, Virgo, Virgo. I think you're great. I've always thought you were great. In many ways better than Jesus. And not that Spanish dude either. I mean the son of God. You're better than that guy.
Libra
You're probably the only one of the star signs that actually reads this, Libra. You're a desperately unhappy little no one, looking for a glimmer of hope in an otherwise heartless world. This isn't it. You'll be dead by Thursday.
Scorpio
There's an expression that you hear sometimes. It's: "That twat is as stupid as Colin". That expression was written about you. Everyone thinks you are a total moron. On the bright side however. You're not actually as stupid as Colin. No one is.
Sagittarius
You're more like Vagittarius with a face like that. What sort of loser grows a beard like that? Oh yeah. You. That's why children cry when they see you. Mainly that anyway. There's also the other thing. But it's best we don't mention that.
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The Sekrit's out of Los Angeles
by Gwarble
The city of angels has been one of near constant turmoil since Premier stood as its Godfather way back when. Since then we've seen a regular turnover of mob figures fronting the Los Angeles underbelly and none of them uglier than PlumonousJelly. It should have come as no surprise to us then that Los Angeles once again stands devoid of mob activity and the businesses of the city breath a little easier.
So what happened this time? You could say it all started with a kiss. Of course, you would be lying when you said that, as a kiss played no part in the removal of the Los Angeles power-structure at all. This was actually about a pig, FlyingPig to be exact. Some say that when the great Durden army threatened organized crime across the cities, FlyingPig donned his armour (just rolled about in the yard and got muddy) and set about cutting them down to size. It was here that the mud-covered brute encountered difficulties. He'd only gone and got mud in his eyes. Oh Pig! You rascal, you. Thigh slap. Face palm.
Blind to who was in the employ of Mr. Durden and who was not, rather than cease his holy war, FlyingPig announced an oink-infused jihad and just started spraying. Unfortunately for him one of the people going bullet chewing that afternoon was formerly anonymous button man from New York, Blair_Waldof. Whilst the New York upper structure tried to rouse Demine from his slumber, the old boy's medication having put him right out, frantic communications had been sent out seeking the identity of mud-encased-mad-man who had been shooting a little too carelessly.
Nobody came forward.
Deimne had finally been awoken (I say awoken, I mean revived, old blighter's heart had given out) and he was none too happy when his mail to the crew leaders of the various cities drew a blank. He takes it personally when people ignore him - guess that should serve as a lesson not to be such a boring nob and maybe people would talk to you more, eh?
Anyway, finally jolted into life a witness came forward who had seen FlyingPig prior to ducking into his pen for a good slosh around in the dirty brown and could identify him as the shooter. This didn't go down to well with the Godfather of New York (once he had been reminded why he was awake and where he was) as he's contacted the Pig and his Godfather earlier and they had failed to step forward and reveal what had gone on.
Once Demine stopped spluttering about the aliens in his vegetable patch and got down to business, the troops mobilised and BlairNobody was promptly and effectively avenged. The jihad had failed and the Fort crumbled before the force of the New York invaders, leaving -Lana-, DirtyLittleSekrit and whoever the other leaders in Los Angeles happened to be who made such an impact that I've forgotten them already, lying in their wake.
A few people came out to have a grumble and a few tears about what had happened. Nobody cared. They knew that the only real tragedy of the entire encounter was the loss of one sneakyrat, whose son was quickly out into the Streets promising not to be as vocal as his Dad had been.
Like a child finding out that Santa Clause isn't real for the first time - say it ain't so 'Pa?
(If you would like to know why Los Angeles was actually cleared, you can find the story here.)
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A Day in The Life
by Bob Liar
Some men are born great. Some achieve greatness. And some have greatness thrust upon them. And by greatness I mean Colin. Some men are born Colin. They are usually murdered. Some men achieve Colin through years of stupidity and terrible decision making. And some men have Colin thrust upon them. Hoopi is one such man.
Colin thrust himself on Hoopi earlier this week and as a result Hoopi is now resting up as an in-patient at the bum doctors with Mittens by his side and Evangeline desperately hanging around by the phone at home waiting for him to call her. That's why old soppy bollocks hasn't written anything for the paper (shit rag) this week. We would send our best wishes out to him, but frankly he's by far and away the least popular of the Barble staff and we aren't actually that bothered by his condition. Gwarble is actually sitting cross legged, cross armed, with his fingers crossed hoping that it worsens.
I was just getting ready earlier this week to go round to Evangeline's house to collect the votes from last week's competition when something happened to divert me and save me the horror of watching that heffalump consume it's own body weight in fried chicken (which I am told is two metric tons). Gwarble called me, which is a massive annoyance at the best of times. But I hadn't had a release in hours and I wanted to get down to business. I keep a note pad next to the phone. All good journalists do. That's a fact. You can look that up. Anyway, here's the transcript I wrote down of that phone call:
Me: "Hello"
Him: "Hey Bob. Bobski. How's it going big guy?"
Me: "Oh. It's you. What do you want idiot?"
Him: "Ha ha. Yeah I get it man. That's funny mate, I really think……."
Me: "No numb nuts. You never think. What do you want?"
Him: "Yeah, OK. Nice. Like it."
Me: "Just fucking tell me what you want, you dick."
Him: "I need you to head over to the office this morning. I have something for you."
Me: "Fine. Whatever fatso. I'll be in later."
He started wittering on about something else then. I don't know what as I hung up the phone and headed off to see if Nickje had remembered everything I'd taught him.
I swanned into the office at lunch time. Gwarble was sitting at his big oak desk with an inane grin on his fat face. That is no great surprise to those that know him.
"Ah, Bob" He called across the room as I crossed the news room floor. I saw Colin's head pop up from under the desk. He waved across the room, wiped his lips and then disappeared back below the desk.
"What do you want, Gwarble? I really don't want to talk to you anymore than I have to." His breathing got a little heavier then, his stupid smile widened and he let out a small grunt. Seconds later, Colin popped up again.
"Right then." He said. "I'll pop the kettle on. How's it going Bob?"
"Shut up, Colin" I replied. Thankfully he did.
I turned back to Gwarble. "I asked what you wanted retard..."
"Oh right, yeah. I have a present for you. It was dropped off earlier. We have Achilles diary."
"What? How the fuck did you get that?" I asked surprised.
"That gender bender twat of a Right Hand that he keeps dropped it round earlier today."
"shelly? That fucking idiot? I'm surprised (s?)he could read what it was." My old Granddad used to have an expression. There's nought as queer as folk he'd say. I often wondered if that had been written about shelly. As there is nought as queer as that freaky weirdo.
"Yeah. I hate that loser. Anyway. Find something interesting and get it typed up for the paper!"
And with that, ADITL writes itself again this week. Here we have it. Printed, unedited, a page from Achilles' diary.
April 22nd
Dear Diary,
What a day it was today. Wow! That's all I can say. Mum took me to the zoo today. Yeah, yeah, I know. It was Dad's turn to have me this weekend. Massive sad face. At least that's what he calls me. Ha ha. Seriously though, Diary, that's 8 visits in a row he's missed now. Mum is doing her best. But I need a male role model Diary, before I turn in to a massive queen like that Colin girl.
Anyway, we had some breakfast together. Well, Mum didn't eat anything. She just looked out the kitchen window smoking a cigarette and crying. Funny Mum! I think she just gets so happy having her little prince around all the time, Diary. Anyway, I ate like a horse. I have to. Mum makes me wear a feed bag as she doesn't like looking at my face at the food table. Or away from the food table. Anyhoo. Then I excitedly got dressed. A little too excitedly, and not for the first time Mum had to send me back upstairs to put my pants on underneath my trousers.
Then it was ZOO TIME!! We got the bus to the zoo. Mum wanted me to tell the driver that I had the mental age of a toddler so that I didn't have to pay, but I was too busy licking the window. I don't know if Mum paid for me or not. We sat up the back the whole way and Mum hilariously made me wear her shopping bag over my head. I felt like a robot and made funny mechanical noises for the whole journey. Mum was crying tears of joy and smoking again.
When we got to the zoo, Mum said we should play a game. I love games. She said we should play a game of hide and seek. Nice! My favourite HOORAY! She told me to go and sit by the penguins and count to four and she would hide. Well, I tried and tried but never got past three, so eventually, knowing that Mum wouldn't mind too much, I just went looking anyway. I loved all the animals. The boy animals are my favourite. I like comparing my pee pee to theirs. It made my pee pee go all funny.
I couldn't find Mum though. I looked all around until the zoo closed and the man told me I had to go. I told him I was playing hide and seek with my Mum, but he just told me to "Fuck off". I must ask Mum what that means. A kind man helped me get the right bus home. He let me sit on his knee. My pee pee felt funny again. And when I got home, Mum was nowhere to be found. All her clothes were gone too. Mum is great at hide and seek. So hilarious! Dad doesn't know what he's missing.
I had better go and get some sleep now, Diary. Tomorrow I am going to start looking for Mum at the library and then round the west side of town. I bet I can find her before tea time.
Well, well, well. There you have it, an insight into the mind of a leader. I hope his mother turns up. I will personally see to it that every inch of her story* is covered, if you know what I mean.
This brings us round nicely to this weeks competition. For your chance to win a signed copy of my new guide book to brothels, prostitutes and go go bars (including a discount voucher for use at the Capn's) simply send money to Gwarble. Whoever sends the most cash to Gwarble before the next edition of the paper will be immediately entered into the competition, subject to terms and conditions as yet to be made up.
*Face
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Gwarble's Idiot Watch
by Gwarble
In my daily jaunts around the fair cities of MafiaReturns I encounter, sadly, an incredibly high amount of stupid people. I've decided that these people are not getting the recognition they deserve and in a new feature for this issue, I've decided to identify them all and hold them before the masses like the six toed freaks of idiot nature that they are. I borrowed Bob Liar's binoculars for the task, along with Hoopi's mackintosh and waterproofs. Not like he needs them anymore - RIP.
Name: 3ar9
Species: Idiotus Commonatum
Description: To you and I, this is the common moron. It attempts to blend into society but hasn't quite grasped the nuances of the average person. Rather than joining in a discussion, this fellow is often seen standing on the periphery of events, gawping like a buffoon.
Originally posted by 3ar9:
xD
*One of the pesky street cleaners ruined my joke. Bastards.
Name: Jin
Species: Quotus Laughablium
Description: This rare bird never tends to survive very long out in the wild. This is commonly due to the fact that it has a bizarre mating ritual. Seemingly at random, without any contact at all, it manages to impregnate another quote with outright stupidity. All of "nyc" live in fear of the day the Quotus Laughablium makes us all "PAY".
Name: RKisaKOK
Species: Grudgus Letitgoyoufooliatii
Description: This common wretch convinces itself that it is an apex predator. Rather than lurking in the bushes of anonymity where it belongs, the small Grudgus Letitgoyoufooliatii parades itself before the entire world jumping up and down for attention, failing to realise that nobody gives a shit about what it has to say.
Name: Prodigy_jr
Species: Rankus Unbelievableialis
Description: This beast is on the endangered species list. It is highly uncommon for one so clearly hindered to have progressed to the esteemed rank of Made Man. We can only assume that Rankus Unbelievableialis will swallow his own tongue and choke sometime in the near future.
Name: CrazyNine
Species: Godfatherus Dullien
Description: This once powerful creature is rarely spotted out in the wild. It chooses to sit quietly in the dark, remembering what it used to be. Commonly found with spittle pooled around it's jowls and a half chewed rattle in one paw.
There are many different species of idiot and we'll be trying to find them all over the coming weeks. Feel free to collect as many as you want, sadly they are breeding faster than we can kill them.
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Advertising Your Business
say one thing about the Barble, say that it is a horrible, money-grabbing, bastard willing to sell itself and trample over anyone and anything in its pursuit of green. With this heartwarming attitude in mind, we decided to let people advertise their businesses in our hallowed pages in exchange for money. We can't attest to the quality of any of them, but as we've been paid I'm sure they are fucking great.
Premier's New Guns & Ammo
Location: Los Angeles
"Premier's New Guns and Ammo shop recently opened in LA. If they need guns, ammo, information about the world of weapons, or just feel like talking about weapons I'm the man to come to, stop by and check out."
As you can tell, we're extremely trustworthy here and we can hand on heart say this is great. Go there. You'll love it.
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Obituaries:
I've decided that no publication of any sufficient calibre is complete without an obituaries section. In our walk of life people die and they will be honoured in this section. Unfortunately in our walk of life some people don't die and we wish they would have. They will also be honoured in this section.
People who have died
...can be found here.
Lazy bastards.
People we wish had died who actually died:
People continue to doubt the potency of the curse and they continue to be struck down like the non-believers they are. This week is no different and the Barble has a few more strikes to put through some decidedly ugly names on our wall. Prostrate yourself before the mighty Barble Death Curse lest you be the next one struck.
sneakyrat - An impressive effort from ratboy, but just like so many before him, the Curse pinned him down, pulled down his trouser and had its way with him. A noble effort to survive since Issue VI, but another loose end is finally tied up.
Ninetta_Bagarella - She issued a challenge to the Barble and the Barble treated it with the lofty disdain it deserved. I'm not one to gloat about who was right and who was wrong, so I'll let Ninetta respond if she thinks she won. In your own time Ninetta. Oh, that's right. You can't. You're dead. Ha di ha ha.
Mystery - Pestered himself right into an early grave. Drawing the attention of the Barble is a poisoned chalice and you had yourself a big old gulp. Then choked on it.
OneShot - I told you not to preach about a dead nobody in the streets, did you not see what happened to Leper? Maybe you guys can have a chat over it at Heaven's annual 'Who got raped by the Barble' checkers match. King me.
Boner_Stabone - Luck wouldn't let us strike down the lolcat himself so we'll have to settle for his dumpy annoying sidekick. It is so easy not to die, all you have to do is not be a total plank and thus you won't appear on the death list. I'd usually put something in here mockingly in stupid lolcat speak but that might draw the other idiot back to the streets.
People we wished had died:
Prodigy_jr- I have literally no idea why you're here. The only thing I did manage to decipher from your appearance was that you had an "Issue 1". That is flirting dangerously close to Barble territory there my son and thus you must be quelled. Death wish list.
SINGER - BETWEEN YOUR FULLY CAPITALISED NAME and your continuous use of bold and italics in the wrong place, I've decided it is time I did the world a favour and offed you. DWL.
Crazy_Innocence - I'm holding you accountable for the human abomination that is Prodigy_jr.
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Acknowledgments
Another one of these out the door and another colossal round of applause required. Thank you, you are too kind.
I'd like to offer my thanks to Hoopi and leaving us in the lurch. It is these kinds of things that make me hate you. You have my 100% support - in committing suicide.
shelly continues to defy all expectations - nobody expected he could be this shit week after week.
Colin continues to match all expectations - everyone expected he could be this shit week after week.
Firefly stepped into the Hoopi shaped breach with all the grace of a paraplegic in a break dancing contest. Congratulations on the worst debut in Barble history.
Evangeline cried herself to sleep on all the competition entries. Well done Horseface.
I forget which of the other anonymous idiots I mention in this are supposed to submit articles. It has been that long since any of them bothered. Why don't we just say they are all dead?
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Something like a disclaimer
If I've taken a pot shot at you in this, it is because I think you're big enough to handle a joke and may find it funny yourself. If I've thought wrongly and you aren't big enough to handle that, I'm an Obscenely Well Protected, Consigliere. RIP Gwarble.
Eleven.
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