That summer story about the allegation of a murder being plotted at prestigious Fernbrook Resort is still being played out.
When last we spoke there was a cabal of cabelleros who, because of a personality conflict, wanted a neighbour put out of their misery.
Yeah. They’re the ones who are suffering. Right.
And the unforgiveable crime? The neighbour did not massage the massive egos and kiss the mountainous asses of the caballeros to the degree that the cabal’s members required.
How could anyone not agree that the neighbour was an unmitigated jerk for failing to worship the very ground that they graced with their presence?
Yeah, right.
But as a result of this awful behaviour the cabal decided that the neighbour’s fate was to be an unlined pine box. Can you imagine… just because of a personality conflict, death was prescribed. Makes you wonder who the jerks really are.
May God have mercy on their souls.
Yeah. Good luck with that.
Anyway the cabal made contact with a group who deals in matters of ongoing existence and casually placed one order of death.
And that’s where the rub of these rubes begins.
They quickly found out that contracting a killing is not quite as movies and television portray. In Fictionville contracting a murder is just as easy as super-sizing your fries and Pepsi at the local McDonalds. You want it well you got it.
But in actuality the Families and Organizations who carefully consider such requests have a code of morals or etiquette (or whatever you want to call it) that they closely adhere to. Chief among these rules is that contracts on the lives of innocents are not permitted. An innocent being a child, someone who does good, someone who is honest, someone who has kept their nose clean. You get the idea. A regular goody two-shoes. In contrast, Contracts of Demise are reserved for those who have some connection to the shadier side of life. Business rivals. Criminals. Those who insult one the Families, Organizations or their associates. People who do bad things. Those whose noses have not been kept spotlessly clean. Those who disobey direct orders. Understood?
And because the intended target did not fall into that latter category, the contract was declined and the cabal was told: “No.”
Well, that’s not completely true. Those who govern matters of contract killings actually went a step further. They did not just simply just say, “no.” They were a little more specific. They were ordered to, “LEAVE X ALONE!”
And so you think that that would be the end of that. That ‘X’ would be left unmolested.
But the cabal, in their narcissistic wisdom, decided, quote, unquote: “well, if we want this done than we’re going to have to do it ourselves.”
Can you imagine a dumber course of action than thumbing your nose at a decision made by certain influential Families and/or Organizations. I can’t. You’re getting your nose dirty and you’re disobeying a directive. Both behaviours of which are in insults.
And that’s four strikes.
In baseball it only take three strikes to knock someone out. One less than four. And let me tell you right now, this isn’t a game of baseball. This is a business. And in this business, one strike is all you get. After all, they have a reputation to maintain.
One murder, well, that’s a tragedy. But a bunch of deaths? That’s simply a statistic.
So if a tragedy occurs at fabulous Fernbrook Resort… a statistic will follow.
You can count on it.
Cock-a-doodle-do n’t ask for whom the bell tolls…
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