The Moolie of Port Town.

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The Moolie of Port Town.

Post by Soapy » 10 Mar 2022, 00:54

"I'm just saying, I've seen you do it."

"No, you haven't."

"Listen," the large fellow they appropriately called Big Mike sighed, "It's your car so it don't matter anyway but I have."


"Last time I saw you sucking a dick in the backseat. How the fuck am I supposed to remember?"

"No, for real, when? What was I eating? Was it cold or hot outside? Was the car parked? When, cocksucker, when?" Ronnie's brow furrowed.

"When we used to get cold cuts for the Sunday games," he responded, "From Kearny's."

"That doesn't count," Ronnie waved him off, "I'd nibble on a few slices of meat, that's not really eating."

"And a bagel is?"

"Absolutely, the floor would be filled with crumbs and you'd get cream cheese on the seats, just disgusting. I've seen you eat."

"You're only saying that because of my size," Big Mike remarked, "Why do people think all fat guys eat sloppy? Clearly, we know how to get it into our mouths."

"So does your mother."

Big Mike bursted into laughter, soon joined by Ronnie as they finished up the rest of the car ride by continuing to bust each other's balls until they got to their destination. As usual, Ronnie handed Big Mike his weapon which he meticulously checked and made sure it was ready to go before doing the same with his gun as well. If everything went according to plan, they wouldn't have to use it but in this life of theirs, things seldom did.

"What are we talking here?" Big Mike asked, wanting gauge how aggressively he was about to kick the door in.

"Seven or eight," Ronnie responded with the information he had gleaned from his father, "I heard he got into it with the Pollacks too, ended up losing his car which is how he ended up at our game."

"We can't let those fucks in anymore," Big Mike instructed Ronnie, "There's got to be like some credit score shit but with gamblers."

"That's a million dollar idea," Ronnie scoffed as they went up the apartment stairs, "I think it's right here."

Big Mike took the lead, taking up almost the entire hallway before reaching the apartment door they were looking for. He pressed his ears against the door and could hear faint background noise of what sounded like a television set. He tried to pick out any voices but after another few seconds of listening in, he decided to knock.

"Who is it?" yelled a voice from inside.

Their response was for Big Mike to push his size 13 feet against the door near the handle which busted the door wide open. He had plenty of practice and did it with ease before pulling his holstered gun out and pushing it into the face of the apartment occupant.

Ronnie always thought it was a bit over the top but it was Big Mike's style and it was undefeated. He scurried around the apartment, making sure no one else was in there.

"What the fuck man? Come on, not for this shit. I told your old man I was good for it!"

"You're not good for shit," Ronnie slapped him across the face and then pushed him down towards the floor. Big Mike closed the door behind them and began turning the place upside down, looking for any valuables.

"I can make the five grand in a few hours," the man pleaded, "I've just been stacking up my money so I can go get it for you guys."

"First of all, you owe us eight. More importantly, you can't win at gambling, you stupid fuck. If you could," he slapped him once more, "We wouldn't be fucking here, now, would we?"

"He doesn't have shit," Big Mike said angrily, "How are you this fucking poor?"

"Spot me a, five-hundred, that's it. I'll be back here in a few hours, I'll have your money and we can all win. I'm done with the cards, man, I swear. I haven't touched it since I left your game!"

"Because you have no money!" Ronnie screamed into his face before recomposing himself and turning towards Big Mike, "I mean, what are we doing here?"

"We've been looking to make an example out of someone," Big Mike shrugged, "Nobody's going to miss this stupid bitch anyway."

"Come on man! Over this?! That ain't right!"

"Alright, alright, alright. Calm down, calm down, come on, get up. You can get up, it's okay. It's fine," Ronnie reassured him.

As soon as he got to his feet, Big Mike grabbed him and threw him against the wall where he promptly fell to the floor. He gingerly tried to get up only to have Big Mike's foot -- the same one that previously knocked his door down with ease -- slam him in his chest. He fell back down and laid on the floor couching.

"Wait, wait!"

"Here or somewhere else?" Big Mike asked Ronnie, "It's still light outside so we're going to have wait here either way."

"Come on! Come on! Just stop! Give me a minute!"

"I can't listen to him anymore," Ronnie gave the order before turning his back and looking for a remote, "Motherfucker probably doesn't even have cable."

"I can't get the money but I can get you drugs! A whole load of it!"

"We already looked," Ronnie didn't bother to look back at him as he continued to peruse the apartment looking for some form of entertainment while Big Mike got ready to make the kill, "You don't have shit in here."

"Not in here, at the docks! I work at the docks, remember? There's shit moving through there almost every week, I can load it off to you guys, for free!"

"It wouldn't be for free," he had piqued Ronnie's interest, "You'd be paying something off and what the fuck do you know about this?"

"We barely get any hours because of those desert niggers at the docks," he told them, "They practically run the place and don't even hide their shit anymore. They try to give all of their guys the shifts but I've seen it, trucks just disappearing with trailers. Everybody at the docks know it."

"Hold up," Ronnie told Big Mike, "This prick might be worth something after all."

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The Moolie of Port Town.

Post by Soapy » 05 Apr 2022, 14:14

"You sure you don't want anything?"

Donte shook his head, tucking his hands inside his hoodie pocket as he watched people hurry their way through the concourse for the start of the second half. Charlie was on his third trip to the concession stands, each time leaving with a beer in hand and a few snacks. Between the parking and Charlie's eating habits, Michael's gift had turned into a lengthy tab for Charlie who didn't seem to mind as he took a bite into his hot dog.

"Let's beat the traffic," he suggested before turning back around towards the stand and putting some ketchup on the Frankfurt, "Next time, ask for tickets when the Lakers are in town."

"The defending Eastern Conference champions aren't enough for you?" Donte wasn't particularly interested in the game either but he couldn't help but poke at Charlie's entitlement.

"If a girl offers you a steak and a blowjob, on the house, you still don't want that ran over steak from Malio's now, do you?"

"You're bugging," Donte laughed as they started to exit the arena, "Malio's is good eating."

"On a steak sandwich," he rebutted, "You gotta add the onions, the mayo, some cheese, anything to mask that tough ass leather. Speaking of steak and blowjob, how's it going with the Puerto Rican Pride Parade?"

"You're a dick," Donte scoffed, "I can't call it, to be honest. I mean, it's not bad but it's just...whatever."

"You fuck her in the sink like I thought you?"

"Fuck you."

"I'm just saying," Charlie finished off his fifth meal of the day and threw it in the nearby garbage bin, "You gotta spice it up, you can't be bored already. Y'all got what, a few months?"

"A couple," Donte answered.

Truth be told, boredom was what Donte was looking for and what Dania wasn't providing. Her line of work meant she worked odd hours and when she wasn't working, she would try to regale Donte with tales of her night which he had no interest in listening to. He liked having her on his arm -- and in his bed -- but it was costly transaction for his mental well being as he just couldn't handle her being on a pole.

"You know what helps?" Charlie leaned over, "Some bitches. Titties and bitches, send you home a different man."

"Is that right?"

"Come on," Charlie tapped him on the chest with the back of his hand, "We're already in the city, might as well enjoy it."

"I thought we were beating the traffic?"

"We are," Charlie smiled, "The traffic to the club."

The most important and common part of the "job" was sitting in a car with a half-eaten sandwich, a cold coffee and just watching. It would undo a lot of the people that joined for the quick cash grabs as it would inevitably end with handcuffs being slapped on your wrist or the chrome tip of a gun at your temple.

Ever his father's son, Ronnie enjoyed the cerebral aspect of the job, even if it meant watching the docks for hours.

"That's it right there," Jason, the same guy they had beaten to a pulp just a few days ago, told them as he pointed out a container that was being loaded onto a truck.

"How do you know?" Big Mike asked him.

"Most, every container is on queue for what, hours? It takes a while for processing, you know, updating the system, letting it know it arrived and then you need to get a truck scheduled for pickup and schedule the drop off. It takes a long time, trust me. This one, the green one, it came off the boat just an hour ago and it's already being picked up. That's the tipoff."

"You sure?" Ronnie pressed him once more.

"Trust me, you work the docks as long as I have, you pick up on certain things. They're not even trying to hide it either, you see any other trucks working this late?"

Big Mike didn't care either way. Even if it wasn't drugs, whatever was in that truck was valuable enough for somebody to ship it across an ocean and he was always game to unload merchandise for profit. That wasn't Fabio's M.O. and by extension, it wasn't their crew's M.O. either but with Ronnie onboard, he knew his ass was at least partially covered if it ever got back to their capo.

They watched as the truck left the docks with Big Mike putting the car on drive and gripping on his gun, "How do you want to play this? There's no telling where it's going so we might as well hit it now before it leaves the district. It's not a lot of foot traffic in this area anyway."

"No," Ronnie instructed him, "We'll follow it to its destination."

"If he's right," Big Mike looked at Ronnie, "It might be going to a stash house, one that's going to be armed to the fucking brim."

"We'll follow it," Ronnie insisted as he leaned back into his chair.

"It's crazy how we keep running into each other like this," Jamie laughed as she handed Donte his drink, ignoring the death stare that Tess was giving her.

"It was his idea," Donte responded as he tilted his head towards Charlie, "You guys showed him a good time last time we were here, he couldn't wait to be back."

"I did have a really good time," Charlie nodded in agreement.

"I think that had less to do with us and the harem he had with him. Where's the entourage?" Jamie snapped back.

"Just friends tonight," Charlie quickly answered, "You should join us, maybe you and Donte can catch up, I heard you guys were real close back in the day."

"I'm working," she forced a smile, "Besides, I'm sure you can find one of these girls to join you guys."

"What time do you get off?" Charlie asked.

"Another hour or so."

"We'll be here," Charlie smiled back, "Won't we, Donte?"

"I don't see why not," he shrugged, taking a sip of his drink.

"Your outfit is amazing," Jamie finally addressed Tess, who felt a bit left out prior to, "I'll think about it."

It was clear to Donte now why Charlie wasn't that worried about Tess' roommate, Carla, not being able to go out with them tonight. He had other plans and those plans included Donte's childhood friend getting nice and cozy with his partner in crime.

"I can't believe you guys left at halftime," Tess snapped Donte out of it, "I'd love to see them play."

Donte got the hint but didn't bite, "Yeah, it's not all that."

"You should come to the city more," she continued, "I feel like I only see you once every few weeks, months even."

"I don't really have business in the city like that," Donte kept it short as he was enjoying his drink and the laid-back atmosphere that was the lounge they had gone to after leaving Jamie's nightclub. The only thing nagging him was Tess' voice and how Charlie's hands would occasionally brush up on Jamie's thigh.

"You want a refill?" Donte asked Tess, not waiting for her answer before he got up and shot Charlie a look, "Let's keep the ladies hydrated, man."

Charlie joined Donte on the walk to the bar where they ordered up four more drinks as the tab for the night kept expanding. Donte kept waiting for Charlie's eyes to meet his but instead he kept looking back at the table, waving towards Jamie.

"You good, man?" Donte finally asked Charlie.

"Yeah, yeah, why?"

"You're getting awfully close there," Donte told him.


"You and Jamie, what the fuck?"

"You stepping to me about a girl? You told me you guys were just friends."

"It ain't even like that," Donte sucked his teeth, "I'm just saying, she's not like that."

"Like what?"

"You got a wife, a pregnant wife at that and a baby at home. She's not like that."

"We're just having fun, man, it's not even like that."

"Does she know that?"

"If you're going to step to me, step to me. Otherwise, what are we talking about here?"

"Alright," Donte backed off, "Just wanted to let you know."

"And you have," Charlie caressed his face, "Now, how about you get some pussy and find some sanity? Alright? Good."

Under the cover of the night and Big Mike's refined tailing ability, they had tracked the truck all the way into Port Town where it was now parked outside of an unmarked warehouse. The driver stayed with the truck for a few minutes before two gentleman exited the warehouse and began unloading its contents out of the truck and carried it inside.

"If not now, when?" Big Mike once again asked Ronnie who was carefully watching all of this take place from across the street.

"You can't tell?" Ronnie replied, "This is Bruce's spot."

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Posts: 4565
Joined: 27 Nov 2018, 23:42

The Moolie of Port Town.

Post by Soapy » 14 Apr 2022, 15:44

Bobby was thoroughly enjoying his blueberry muffin when he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. He scrambled to put the pastry down, rubbing his fingers together to wipe off the crumbs as he stood up and hugged Joey.

"You want a coffee, skip?"

"I'm good," Joey waved him off as he sat in front of Bobby, pressing his collar down with his thumb and index finger. He wasn't wearing his usual sweats as he donned a navy suit that rested perfectly on his broad shoulders, "They loaded me up with plenty of tea at that place."

"How is he?"

Joey's face soured, letting his eyes wander to the side as he observed the foot traffic around them. They were sitting outside of a little café off Main Street, not too far from where he got pinched for the first time.

"Not good," Joey finally responded, "Not good at all."

"Shit," Joey's mood was contagious as Bobby was now rubbing his hand across his forehead.

"This is for your ears only," Joey said sternly, "I don't know if he sees next spring."

"Don't say that," Bobby sucked his teeth as he believed in the power of words, "He already lost his mom last winter, losing Big Al, that would devastate him."

"What's gonna really ruin him is that fucking hotel," he replied, "I mean, what the fuck?"

"My guys can't take a leak without an inspection," Bobby explained, "Ever since that shit with the learning center and the lead paint, the city's been a prick about it."

"The numbers don't look good, I don't even know if we're even going to break even on this shit anymore."

"Our man in the office can't help?"

"I'm on my way to see him right now," Joey scoffed, "That's a whole another story, you don't even want to get me started on that."

Bobby didn't.

"We're not even cutting corners anymore so I don't have any more fat to cut. It's bad enough we had to bring down all the guys' hours and pay. I don't got to tell you, this keeps up, they'll get real jobs."

"It rolls downhill," Joey shook his head, "This was supposed to be his exit plan, you know? His golden parachute and we're all just shitting on it, that's how it looks."

"I don't know what to tell you, cap. Until we get a few good weeks of getting shit done, no wasted hours, no injuries, none of that bullshit, it's going to be like this. And the weather's been good!"

"Fuck me," Joey couldn't help but laugh.

It wasn't that long ago that they were popping champagne and making toasts after they had elbowed their way into winning the bid for the purchase of the hotel. The city then ruled that the hotel would have to shut down while renovations were happening which already started to cut into their projections and one hiccup after another caused those numbers to go lower and lower until even without any skim, they were losing money every day.

"I thought this shit was behind us," Joey sighed, "God bless the old man but goddamn it, none of this would be happening if we were running with our friends across the state."

"I don't see it," Bobby disagreed, "Even after we gave Vince over, it's one thing to bury the hatchet, it's another to invite them inside your home. Especially after they just saw us turn on one of our own."

"Don't give me that shit," Joey was irritated by Bobby's last comments as true words cut deep, "Vincent dug his own grave way before we grabbed a single shovel."

"I understand better than most the cost of this game and you know that," Bobby assured him, "It was the right decision, the only move to make and we made the right one."

"I sure as shit hope so," Joey was quick to point out.

He was Little Al's right hand man and Bobby was his. While by reputation, Little Al ran things under the advice of Big Al, it was really more a triumvirate between Joey, Bobby and Pete Maninno.

The war with the Casellas, which started with a joke at the expense of Vincent's mom, had sapped Little Al's appetite to be a true boss. He was just twenty-one years old when he got made, right after the Fiore crime family had been established as an independent outfit.

Angelo Casella and Big Al had split off in the early 50s, amicably, to run their own things. Angelo practically helped established the Fiore crime family along with his cousin, Martino Casella, who had just come home after a long bid and was a made guy that ran with Tommy Gagliano's crew back in the day.

The two families set up their operations on opposite side of the state, collaborating when necessary but staying out of each other's ways. Nevertheless, to New York, it was always just the Casella family and the Fiore crew was just a faction of that.

The crews started to pull apart in the 60s when Big Al had a heart attack and Little Al was named acting boss at just twenty-eight and started pushing out the old guard and with it, all connections to the Casella family. To Angelo and Martino, Little Al was still just that: Little Al. So when Vincent put some hot lead into the skull of a Casella crew member following their off-colored joke about how much they would enjoy having relations with his mother, Little Al wasn't able to contain it and three and a half years later, the Fiore crew was decimated and the guys that the Casella family didn't kill off, half of them ended up in jail trying to get their payback.

Big Al had to step in and end the war, the only way it could be ended according to Angelo, unfortunately for Vincent.

"I don't want to keep the man waiting too long," Joey got up, "I'll see what I can do about getting this project going because if we don't, we're in real trouble."

"I hear you," Bobby replied, taking one last bite of his now stale muffin.

"Man, body his ass!"

Donte kept a watchful eye on the approaching help defense as he continue to back his defender into the paint before taking a hard dribble towards his left and kicking out to a now open shooter. The thirteen-year old boy elevated and flicked his wrist as the ball went perfectly into the net.

"Game out!" Charlie boasted, slapping Donte on the back before high-fiving the last of their trio.

They had come for Donte to pay his Aunt Jenny a visit but when in Rome, they decided to also play a few game of pickup basketball with the kids that were milling around the playground. Donte had spent many fall weekends as a kid on the blacktop, enjoying the last bit of good weather. While it felt good to be back in his hometown, his body was now paying the consequence as they dragged their ass back to Charlie's car.

"How the fuck did we use to play all day?" Charlie complained as he had to squat down to get inside his car.

"There they are," Big Mike pointed them out from inside of his car, "I don't know why we're following them like this, not like we don't know where they live."

"Just shut up and follow me," Ronnie instructed him.

Donte was caught off guard as he saw an approaching Big Mike and Ronnie. As far as he knew, they had no business on this side of town, especially not Ronnie. Donte tapped Charlie on the shoulder to get his attention which resulted in him being equally as shocked.

"What the fuck y'all doing here?" Charlie said with a small laugh as without invitation, Ronnie swung open the driver side backseat door while Big Mike got in from the other side and they took a seat.

"This a surprise party or something?" Charlie asked with a bit of irritation in his voice this time.

"We know you're pushing shit," Ronnie spat at him, "We know where you're getting it from, we know who you're getting it from and we know where you're taking it so let's cut the shit."

"What the fuck..." Charlie started to say while Donte was still in shock.

"I know sure as shit no one has signed off on this," Ronnie continued, "So here's how it's going to go down, okay? We get ten grand, cash, upfront and another grand each week after that."

"How the fuck do you figure that?" Charlie was now raging.

"We don't know what you're talking about," Donte added.

"Don't make this hard," Big Mike leaned forward, driving his knee into Donte's seat.

"Fuck you," Charlie shot right back, "And fuck you too, you bitch. The fuck you think this is?"

"Listen," Donte let out a nervous chuckle, "Whatever you think you're doing, you're not doing, okay?"

"No, you fucking listen. You want to escalate this, we can. This is light compared to what we could do to you, bleed your ass fucking dry. You hear me?" Ronnie threatened.

"Get the fuck out of my car before your daddy starts looking for you in a fucking lake somewhere," Charlie's threat was a lot more convincing.
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