In Your Vaste - Issue 24

THE STREETS ARE ALIVE WITH THE SOUND OF RECRUITMENT

By Vaste

There was a time when the streets of America bustled with life. Businessmen opened new establishments, community leaders addressed the concerns of their neighbourhoods, and citizens from rival cities gathered to exchange ideas, insults and the occasional bullet.

Today, visitors are more likely to find several men standing beside enormous signs announcing that they are involved in organised crime.

Across the country, the public square has become less a thriving centre of community life and more an employment fair for aspiring felons. Every available lamppost appears to carry a recruitment notice, while every alleyway contains a newly appointed crime lord explaining his organisation’s values, history and preferred application process.

This has made life considerably easier for federal investigators, who previously had to follow suspects, examine financial records and persuade informants to testify. They can now simply take a morning stroll, copy down the names of the organisations involved and ask whether anybody handing out recruitment leaflets would mind also providing the address of their headquarters.

The Duluc Delinquents, for example, have announced their arrival in Atlanta through a public proclamation from Lord Farquaad. His Serene and Magnificent Heights revealed the organisation’s name, location, Chicago connections, leadership structure, recruitment needs and willingness to allow junior members to accept prison sentences on behalf of management.

It was less a clandestine criminal conspiracy and more a confession with decorative borders.

Fortunately for Farquaad, federal agents are believed to have overlooked the notice after mistakenly assuming it had been posted too low down the wall to contain anything important.

The Delinquents trace their criminal lineage to the late DelBoy and his successor, Death, leader of Chicago’s "Pecknaam" based operation. Readers familiar with British culture will know Death by his English alias Hollowman who performs as a street poet under the pseudonym Giggs.

Giggs has been talking the hardest since he assumed control following DelBoy’s fatal encounter with federal agents. According to the organisation’s own account, investigators spent three years following money trails, decoding messages and cultivating witnesses before surrounding a warehouse to make an arrest. It would appear that Rodney was not the only plonker as DelBoy emerged carrying a firearm and was shot after reportedly raising it toward an agent.

The authorities therefore demonstrated that they are capable of investigating organised crime, provided they are given three years, several vehicles, a federal task force and a suspect willing to walk outside holding the evidence.

Since then, Giggs has promised the same direction under new leadership. Considering the direction taken by his predecessor ended beside a warehouse surrounded by federal agents, In Your Vaste respectfully suggests that a minor adjustment to the route may be prudent if he wants to keep this thing on lock d'oh.

When approached for comment, Giggs said, "MST says I can't rap so how can I be this rapper from South London?"

Elsewhere, Chang introduced the Red Lotus Crew from its base at the Red Lotus Tea Room in Los Angeles Chinatown. The announcement emphasised loyalty, discipline, unity, patience and reputation before helpfully confirming both the organisation’s name and the precise establishment from which it operates.

“Remember the name. Respect the symbol. The Red Lotus has arrived,” the notice concluded.

Law enforcement officials are understood to have remembered the name, photographed the symbol and entered the Tea Room’s address into a searchable database.

The Red Lotus statement was stylish, restrained and considerably less incriminating than most recent street speeches. Nevertheless, if the tea is good, federal surveillance of the premises may prove unusually competitive.

Brian, meanwhile, has attempted something more ambitious than ordinary recruitment. In a public meeting attended by what he described as “all of the mobsters in the land,” he proposed nationwide cooperation to control the narcotics supply and maximise profits.

Economists might describe this as a cartel. Prosecutors might describe it as a conspiracy. Brian apparently describes it as an afternoon meeting.

He openly discussed narcotics trafficking, cooperation between families, manipulation of supply and the distribution of further details through crew leaders. It was a bold attempt to organise the underworld and an even bolder attempt to save law enforcement the expense of recording the conversation secretly.

In Your Vaste applauds Brian’s desire to encourage cooperation between cities. At least somebody is trying to bring people together, even if the chosen community project is the coordinated distribution of narcotics.

Most remarkable of all was the appearance of Sofeleye, who wandered into public view and announced that he might establish his own headquarters if granted permission by the upper structures. He then expressed his intention to climb to the rank of Godfather without failure.

Older generations will remember when becoming a Godfather required secrecy, influence, alliances and a carefully cultivated reputation. It can now apparently begin with the criminal equivalent of posting one’s career aspirations on a public noticeboard.

Sofeleye did not disguise his ambition, lower his voice or even pretend to be interested in a legitimate waste-management company. He announced his desired destination to criminals, rivals and law enforcement alike, then continued about his day with relative impunity. In Your Vaste has reached out to Sofeleye for comment.

This is perhaps the clearest reflection yet of the impotence of Chief Charles Maxwell and the federal authorities he represents. America’s criminals no longer hide in smoky back rooms. They hold public conferences, advertise their headquarters and publish succession announcements. An aspiring Godfather can declare his intentions before he has even found a family, apparently confident that the authorities will wait until he has completed the journey before considering whether intervention might be appropriate.

In fairness to Chief Maxwell, gathering intelligence takes time. Agents must carefully assemble names, locations and organisational relationships from the difficult-to-obtain sources known as “the first paragraph of every street announcement.”

The greater concern, however, is not simply that criminals are speaking. It is that almost nobody else is.

Where are the parades or public spectacles like boxing events sponsored by restaurants, casinos and other neighbourhood businesses? Where are the community events, public disputes, celebrations, debates and opportunities for families to interact beyond recruitment and narcotics? Where are the leaders encouraging their members to contribute something to their cities besides another poster declaring that a dangerous new organisation has arrived?

Crime families have always shaped their communities, for better or worse. Their leaders possess the influence to create activity, encourage enterprise and give their members reasons to step outside their headquarters. Yet the present streets resemble a commercial district in which every shop has closed except the recruitment agencies.

This newspaper is not asking respectable criminal leaders to abandon their organisations. In Your Vaste values its sources, its continued access and, most importantly, the uninterrupted functioning of its editorial staff’s vital organs.

We merely suggest that America’s leaders give their communities something to discuss after announcing themselves. Open a business. Host an event. Start a rivalry. Settle a dispute. Offer an opportunity for citizens from other families to participate. Even a badly organised public gathering would bring more life to the streets than another speech beginning, “A new name has begun to circulate.”

The streets should be the beating heart of America, not a classified advertising section in which every listing reads: “Criminal enterprise now open. Members wanted. Federal agents welcome to take notes.”

Until that changes, Chief Maxwell need not trouble himself with undercover officers. He can purchase a newspaper, order tea at the Red Lotus, inspect Farquaad’s recruitment desk and wait for Sofeleye to send him an invitation to the coronation.

THE COST OF DELBOY’S PERFECT RECORD: REMEMBERING THE MEN BEHIND THE 700

By Vaste

Since the death of DelBoy, admirers have worked tirelessly to preserve the legend of a criminal leader who reportedly killed more than 700 government agents without ever receiving so much as a scratch from a wackback.

It is an extraordinary achievement. It is also considerably easier to understand once one remembers that DelBoy was not always the person standing in the path of the returning bullets.

While the late leader accumulated kills and polished his reputation for invincibility, members of his organisation carried the “take bullet” responsibility. This meant that when an injured government agent summoned the strength to return fire, DelBoy’s men could discover whether loyalty truly was bulletproof on his behalf.

It was not.

Among those lost was Ray, one of DelBoy’s highest-ranking men and a made member of the family. Ray was killed by a fatal G-man wackback, paying the ultimate price during the very campaign now being used to portray his leader as untouchable.

This rather complicates the boast that DelBoy killed more than 700 federal agents without ever being shot at. The bullets existed. They simply struck somebody else.

Claiming invincibility under those circumstances is rather like boasting that one remained perfectly dry during a rainstorm while being carried beneath an umbrella made entirely from loyal associates.

None of this takes away from DelBoy’s remarkable body count. Seven hundred government agents is an impressive figure by any standard and represents either an extraordinary criminal campaign or the most severe federal recruitment crisis in American history.

It does, however, raise questions about how legends are manufactured after death. DelBoy’s tally is remembered. His clean record is celebrated. Meanwhile, Ray risks becoming a footnote despite being the made man whose death helped keep that record clean.

A more accurate description would be that DelBoy survived his war against the government without personally suffering a wackback injury. That is not the same as saying the government never successfully returned fire against his organisation.

They did, and Ray died because of it.

Perhaps this distinction was lost amid the celebrations. Numbers such as 700 have a habit of dominating the page, while the names of those who absorbed the consequences are printed considerably smaller.

Giggs, now responsible for leading DelBoy’s former organisation, inherits both the legend and the uncomfortable arithmetic behind it. If Chicago wishes to honour its history honestly, it should remember not only the man credited with firing at hundreds of agents but also the made men who were lost along the way.

DelBoy may never have been touched by a G-man’s returning bullet.

His organisation was not so fortunate.

For Ray, the difference proved fatal.

IN YOUR VASTE: THE HITLIST YOU CAN BANK ON

By Vaste

Has somebody wronged you? Insulted your family? Undermined your business interests? Or simply continued breathing with an enthusiasm you find increasingly objectionable?

In Your Vaste is pleased to announce the return of its trusted hitlist service, providing aggrieved citizens with a discreet and dependable way to convert personal grievances into attractive employment opportunities.

Unlike rival hitlists, we publish only fully funded contracts. Empty threats, drunken boasts and promises to pay “when business improves” will not be listed. If the reward has not been secured, the hit does not exist. In Your Vaste deals in credible threats only.

Payment may be provided in cash or, following negotiation, through favours. We understand that even respected criminals occasionally experience temporary liquidity problems. Fortunately, influence, information, introductions and future assistance can sometimes be more valuable than money; although In Your Vaste reserves the right to decide whether your solemn promise is worth more than the paper upon which it is written.

There is no charge for using the hitlist. The full reward is reserved for the professional who completes the contract, because even in organised crime, unpaid labour is exploitation.

Contracts survive the death of the person who placed them. Passing away does not settle one’s affairs, erase one’s grudges or release the target from their obligations. In Your Vaste is proud to offer continuity of service from beyond the grave.

Anonymous placements may also be negotiated for clients who desire vengeance but lack the courage, political freedom or life expectancy to attach their name to it. Requests to remove an existing contract will be considered, although targets should expect the cost of regaining their peace of mind to reflect the inconvenience caused.

Successful hitmen will be rewarded promptly and thanked for their services with the discretion appropriate to independent contractors in the fatal-problem-solving industry.

To place a funded hit, offer a favour, negotiate anonymity or discuss the removal of your name, contact Vaste.

In Your Vaste: because if you are going to threaten somebody’s life, you should at least have the professionalism to fund it.

IN YOUR VASTE REFUSES TO BE INTIMIDATED BY THREAT AT KNEE HEIGHT

The editor has received the following threat from Lord Farquaad, Don of the Duluc Delinquents. In response, we have now made sure that none of our publications are ever presented on lower shelves to ensure this minuscule menace doesn't cause any more trouble.

"I see through your pathetic charade. You sit there in your dusty printing press, hiding behind cheap newsprint and bold headlines, pretending to wield power. You are no Don—you are merely a glorified town crier with ink on his fingers!

Let this be your final headline: if you ever misquote perfection or usurp the regal majesty of Lord Farquaad again, I will have my knights tear down your press and turn your precious newspapers into bedding for the stables.
Now run along and print that, 'editor'."