Lincoln Park - I leave tomorrow for Las Vegas. (2 posts in one extravaganza) (1039 hits)
Category: NoneLabels: The_Malleys
Rating: 1.6 on 18 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Axolotl (View user info) at 2006-06-24 12:15:04 EDT
Tomorrow at 8.50 AM, I will be departing Newark Liberty International Airport to fly to San Diego. The Irish Dancing National Championships are being held there, and since my family runs one of the largest Irish dancing schools on the East Coast, we will be flying out there to compete. I used to do Irish dancing, but only for about 6 months when I was seven. Michael Flatley, I'm not.
I posted about California when I was a noob, and I made my feelings clear: http://www.ubersite.com/m/69218 I like the Bay Area and the Sierra Nevada, but California seems like a strange place. I don't think we'll be stopping over in Tijuana, if I want to see a slum I'll look out the window as we're passing Newark's Central Ward.
We'll be going to Vegas afterward. It's come to my understanding that Elvis Presley is alive, and is performing at the Coliseum. I'll have to take a picture of that.
According to http://www.frappr.com/ubersite , both JonnyX and Godchicken live nearby SD, and Rad1101 and KentWeirdo live in Vegas. I'll be sure to spray-paint your houses with -2DIE.
..Wow...I didn't know how close some of you lived to me.
Goodbye, Uber. I'll see you all again in two weeks.
Anycase...Part Twenty of the Malleys: Lincoln Park
(No relation to the band)
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A week has passed since Michael Sullivan met his death and the last threats to John Malley's leadership were wiped out in a hail of bullets. However, a civil war burns bitterly in the Dimiglio family. Carlo Dimiglio is recovering from a severe heart attack in a Newark hospital, and the family is split up between supporting Dimiglio and supporting Carmine Galantro. Galantro has been working more closely with the Sullivan family to secure his business and his life.
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The cheerleaders took the field as half-time began at Giant's Stadium. John Malley and Carmine Galantro sat back in their seats, enjoying the break from work and mob life for just an evening.
"Ah...how's things going over on your side?" John said, drinking a Heineken.
"That bastard Dimiglio's still alive, that's all I have to say," Carmine groaned. "Civil war in my family...never thought I'd see the day."
"It'll blow over, don't worry about it," John said. "Carlo can't have more than ten years left in him, right?"
"Jesus..."
"It was just a joke, Carm," John said. There was a slight pause between the two men, and Carmine looked up into the sky.
"Good seats," Carmine remarked. "How'd you get them?"
"Virgil O'Duinen. He's making a fortune scalping these tickets," John Malley said. "He bought a bunch for every game this season, in bulk, and is bringing in tens of thousands every week."
"That's great," Carmine said, impressed. "So the Sullivan family has found a new calling?"
"Most of our stuff is actually legitimate now," John replied. "It's sixty-forty. Our real estate, insurance, construction, and car repair bring in most profits, but we still get a decent cut from rackets, drugs, and smuggling. We're mostly legitimate though."
There was a short pause where both men watched the cheerleaders; Carmine said shortly, "Virgil's a nice guy. I just got stakes in a new restaurant in Wayne, right across from one of his restaurants, the Grasshopper. Mine's called Leonardo's."
"I've ate at Virgil's place," John said. "He lives in Lincoln Park, about a half-mile from the restaurant, so it's usually a no-show for him."
"Me and him are going golfing in Morris County next Saturday," Carmine said. "I was talking to him a while the day we opened. He's mighty pissed over Raymond Ventry, he says he was a disgrace to the Paterson crew."
"Good riddance to him," John Malley said in disgust. "He was nothing but trouble. Constant hand-washing, all this OCD bullshit. Thanks for taking him off our hands, Carm."
"Since he's part of my family now, I have jurisdiction over him?" Carmine asked. "No bad blood if he disappears?"
"Kill him, if you want," John Malley said casually. "It'll save Don McMichael the trouble. McMichael nearly did him Halloween night, right in his own basement."
"Who's taking over Raymond's crew now that he's out of your family?" Carmine asked.
"John Broadus, I'm thinking, with Virgil O'Duinen's son Christopher as counselor. Dan McCourt was the last co-captain, but since he's now six feet under the Meadowlands..."
"It's too bad about Virgil's other son," said Carmine. "Is he getting out on bail soon?"
"They said by Christmas," John sighed. "The trial's next July. He doesn't have a chance, really."
The cheerleaders left the field far below, and the Giants' offensive line marched back on.
"I heard Jimmy Hoffa's buried under the endzone," Carmine said, elbowing John with a smile.
"I heard you put him there," John retorted. Carmine laughed, and they settled back in their seats to watch the game.
* * *
It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon in November, and the sunlight streamed down through the trees as Sylvester Augusto drove through Clifton, Raymond Ventry in his passenger seat. They were headed toward Paul Ciceri's house, where Paul would induct him as an enforcer in his crew.
"It's all right with everyone that I'm transferring families, right?" Raymond asked in concern. "No bad blood?"
"Nah, Ray," Sylvester said, frowning. "It's all the same. John Malley thought you might prefer it working with the Dimiglios a while. Your old family's fine by it."
"But what about Paul and Galantro?" Raymond asked.
"Those two are fine with it as well," Sylvester replied pleasantly. They turned onto Paul Ciceri's street, and made their way down to his house; Ciceri himself was standing on his porch, looking down at the car. "Galantro is happy to have you as part of the family."
"Yeah...I mean, you guys ain't mad at me, right?" Raymond Ventry said. "Not for all of this with Dimiglio?"
"Of course not, Ray, stop worrying," Sylvester said coolly. "Not at all." They pulled the car into Paul's garage, right next to Paul's own Ford.
"Good," Raymond said, turning his head out toward the inside of Paul Ciceri's garage. Sylvester quietly and quickly opened up the glove compartment and pulled out a silenced pistol. He held it close to Raymond Ventry's temple, and pulled the trigger, blowing the side of his face onto the side window of the car.
Paul Ciceri began walking down from his porch, turning into the garage; Raymond Ventry sat back in his seat, a bullet hole in his cheekbone. Paul opened up the door, and pushed against Ray to keep him falling out of the car.
"Transferring families, whoever heard of such bullshit?" Sylvester said gruffly.
"Let's bring his body up to Garrett Mountain before my wife comes out," Paul said, turning toward his own car. He opened the trunk, which was conveniently lined with plastic wrap. "Leave your car here, we'll clean the blood off the windows later."
Sylvester Augusto jumped out of the car while Paul handed him a sheet of plastic. Working quickly, Sylvester wrapped up Raymond's shattered skull tightly, holding in the blood and brains leaking from his temple. Making sure the plastic was on tight, Sylvester dragged Ray by the hand over the armrests.
"Stick him in here," Paul said, taking a hold of Ray's other arm. They pulled him out of the car, the plastic around his head eerily filling with blood. Paul instinctively pushed down on the plastic, displacing the bubbly red fluid.
Sylvester smiled, and heaved Ray's body into the trunk of Paul's car. "Garrett Mountain or the Meadowlands?"
"I was thinking Garrett Mountain," Paul replied. "We bury any more people in the Meadowlands, there'll be bones sticking out of the ground at Giant's Stadium."
* * *
Carlo Dimiglio lay in a hospital bed in Beth Israel in Newark, groaning softly as a nurse took blood from his arm. He closed his eyes, longing for his soft rabbit Jeannie back in his arms.
"Be careful with the good-looking guy, know what I mean?" grunted Chris Virgino, standing guard at the doorway. Out in the hall several of Dimiglio's mobsters - PJ Porcelli, Vinnie Delvecchio, Vince Tabano, and Christian Delcordero - stood watch for their boss.
"There," the nurse said in an aggravated tone; she had enough of these shady types hanging around the patient. "You're done, Mr. Dimiglio." She turned and walked out, Chris Virgino's eyes following her posterior out the door.
"Close the door," Dimiglio said; Virgino closed it. "Am I under guard?"
"We got some of your guys outside, as well as a cop," Virgino replied. "Officer Diciccio. I don't know if you heard, but Carmine had Raymond Ventry killed yesterday afternoon, coming home from church."
"Fuck," Dimiglio breathed. "That was all of them. Paul Ciceri and Michael Brecher...they betrayed me. I'd have them taken to my warehouse in Newark and have railroad spikes driven through their eyes, if we weren't trying to get peace."
Since Dimiglio's heart attack, there had been a deep schism in the family. While most of the soldiers had thrown their support in with the fair and personable Carmine Galantro, a solid third of the family supported Carlo Dimiglio, the rightful boss. Minor acts of violence had been committed by both sides, but Carmine and Carlo were on speaking terms, and trying to end any bloodshed.
"Will you be splitting into two families?" Virgino asked innocently.
"Over my dead, bullet-ridden body," Dimiglio barked, straining to sit up. "My grandfather, in 1911—where's that fucking morphine?"
"Right here, chief," Virgino said, showing his boss the button. "How's the old ticker?"
"Fuck off with you. My heart is fine, it's just cocksuckers like Carmine that gives me all this stress that makes my heart jump, know what I'm saying?"
Trying to decipher Dimiglio's profanity-laden mumblings, Virgino said, "Pat Coyle called, you know, the rat? He doesn't know about the beef between you and Carmine...he wants to join the family as an associate, or get help from the family in leaving the state."
"Oh, does he?" Dimiglio exclaimed. "He should ask Raymond Ventry what happens to people who try to transfer families. Is he coming up from Seaside?"
"Yeah."
"I'll decide what to do to him later," Dimiglio said.
Out in the hospital hallway, Bo Petroso and Phil Blunt were talking. Petroso was a heavyset black-haired soldier, and Phil Blunt was a tan, seedy-looking lanky associate. Both were Dimiglio's men.
"Did you consider what I asked you?" Phil asked nasally.
"Taking down a boss is bad..." Petroso replied uncertainly. "Look what happened when Jackie got killed."
"Trust me on this," Phil said, sure of himself. "You gotta come...think of the rewards we get if we took down a boss. I could become a made man, you could rise up in the ranks, we could eat right off the godfather's table."
"No...you go do this on your own, I don't want to get involved," Petroso said, turning away from Phil.
"You don't know what you'll be missing!" Phil hissed.
* * *
It was a cool Monday night at the Sullivan offices in Hackensack, and John Malley was filling out the work papers for some no-show construction jobs. Donald McMichael was on the phone with a Mahwah apartment building superintendent, calmly discussing a dispute.
Someone knocked on the office doors, and John Malley said, "Come in,"
The knob turned and Michael Brecher walked into the room, something decidedly off with him. His body language suggested something was wrong, and John put down the papers.
"How's it going, Mike?" John asked. "Car shop doing okay?"
"I got a problem, John," Michael said, looking worried.
"What's up, Mike?" John asked.
"All right..." Michael began nervously. "I don't want to press my problems on you, but I think this is important...I mean, my family, you know, my daughter..."
"If I can help you, I will," John said, showing his palms in a gesture of openness.
"All right..." Michael started. "So Sue-Sue, my daughter, evidently has a Myspace, you know, whatever the hell is with that. She gave out some personal information—I don't know what, exactly—but this guy is talking to her online. An older guy, and he's been talking to her."
"Jeez, that's not good," John said in concern. "Did you make her delete it?"
"That's not all..." Michael said, growing angry. "He came to her school, and spooked her. The fucker actually tracked her down, to see her. He's a child molester, I'm sure of it, he has to be about thirty-five."
"Why don't you go to the police?" John Malley said.
"There's no proof! The bastard was instant-messaging my little girl, and he tracked her down!" Michael persisted, his face shining. "For Christ' sakes, she's only twelve, she was scared, she told me only after the guy came up to her. He touched her, I know it. She said he put his hand on her little-girl breast, and squeezed it. She ran away with her friends, the rest of the seventh-graders, God bless her..."
"...and you want to take care of this without the cops," John finished. "You want to hurt him for what he could do to your daughter. Well, I can help you with that, lure him to a quiet place, cut his dick off, shoot him in the head."
"John..." Michael said, looking downcast. "He's a Dimiglio enforcer. Vinnie Delvecchio. I winged him in the stomach over a year ago, back when we jacked Porcelli's truck. I don't know if that's why he's messing around with my little girl, but out of all the people in Jersey..."
"That's a problem," John said, folding his hands. "Dimiglio and Galantro are busy enough killing each other, we don't want to get involved...on the other hand, the police are just going to toss him in jail for a couple years, and that's if they convict him."
"John, if we kill this guy," Michael said. "Dimiglio will think Carmine did it."
"I don't want to hurt Carmine, he's a friend of mine," John muttered. "But...yeah, we can do this. Somewhere secluded. Alex Collins can actually do the deed, I don't want to get my hands red."
"Neither do I," Michael sighed, looking relieved. "Thank you so much, John. Joanne has been worried sick over Sue-Sue. Last night at dinner, she says to me, she says she wants to gut the son of a bitch with her fondue stick. 'Cause Sue-Sue was looking so sad—"
"When this guy 'disappears,' what will you tell Joanne?" John Malley said.
"I'll say he skipped town before I called the cops on him," Michael said, sounding like he had thought of that before. "Thank you, John. This means a lot to me."
"We'll talk about this later," John said as Mike got up. "Maybe Saturday, when we're free. Keep your wife and kids safe until then."
"I will, John," Mike said, walking out the door. John looked back down at his papers, glancing out his office window to see Mike driving down the street back west toward Lodi.
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Next post in: 2 weeks. Goodbye, Uber.
User Reviews
Submitted by electrictoothsyndrome (user info) at 2006-08-11 15:39:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
I'd say you're getting the losing end of this deal.
Submitted by awj002 (user info) at 2006-07-13 18:26:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
amazing story. and a +2 purely for the effort behind it. keep on writin
Submitted by extacy_red (user info) at 2006-07-13 18:17:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
http://www.ubersite.com/m/90418
linkwhore!do it!
Submitted by inion_de_trua (user info) at 2006-07-10 10:25:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-07-08 14:24:44 (#)
Ranking: 2
Jlu Iiur! Kjl? JiOui jklf poUr! Jklagla sss in to my Mouth! Fojrkl my Knile3$ Is By ste best I e! EI!.k Ill 'll my or ifice if cie ice iu! lkjk! UY! oi are you here?
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what?
here's a +2 just so i don't break the streak.
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-07-07 23:59:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Everything you ever wanted to know about Axolotl
User id: 19539
Registered on or around: 2005-06-08 17:12:08
# Messages posted: 193
# Reviews written: 4591
# Times these posts have been reviewed : 5463
# Hits: 199796
Average rating of all messages: 1.47
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Nearly 200,000 hits while I was away?? When the fuck did this happen?
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-07-07 19:08:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I'M BACK
Vegas was coo. I had a topless waitress pour Jose Cuervo tequila into my mouth whilst massaging my lapbone.
Submitted by awesome_face (user info) at 2006-07-02 01:29:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
CUM BACK
Submitted by BobLobla (user info) at 2006-06-27 17:28:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
+2, as always.
I dont know if i can wait 2 weeks for another...
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-06-26 17:29:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
well, I'm bummed you didnt ask me for tourist advice - now the Mexican street gangs are gonna get ya.
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-06-24 22:31:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by darko (user info) at 2006-06-24 21:39:46 (#)
Ranking: 1
Time to make a UGR post, but not one for my competition? *cries emo tears*
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I was busy. I had many things coming up.
Submitted by darko (user info) at 2006-06-24 21:39:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Time to make a UGR post, but not one for my competition? *cries emo tears*
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-06-24 16:11:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by shitfuck (user info) at 2006-06-24 15:30:15 (#)
Ranking: 2
I fucked my girlfriend lastnight.
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I didn't ;(
Submitted by shitfuck (user info) at 2006-06-24 15:30:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I fucked my girlfriend lastnight.
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-06-24 15:30:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2006-06-24 15:05:03 (#)
Ranking: 2
Why'd you forfeit for D-prime, man?
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I was busy Friday. I couldn't go on the internet all day.
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2006-06-24 15:05:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Why'd you forfeit for D-prime, man?
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-06-24 14:32:01 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by The_taste_of_Monkeys (user info) at 2006-06-24 13:45:44 (#)
Ranking: 2
Both me AND the Ax-man gone for two weeks?! uber will fall into the hands of dark forces, mark my words.
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I fully expect to see Goatse and Lemonparty as every other post when we return.
Submitted by The_taste_of_Monkeys (user info) at 2006-06-24 13:45:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Both me AND the Ax-man gone for two weeks?! uber will fall into the hands of dark forces, mark my words.
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-06-24 12:16:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Frappr's being frozen up right now ;(