"Whenever I go into a restaurant, I order both a chicken and an egg to see which comes first"

Monday, June 3, 2024

Donald Trump's Vendetta - How The Mafia Settled The New President's Scores And Cleaned Out Congress

Patsy Lugano was a member of one of the Five Families of New York - families which since their heyday a few decades ago had been reduced in size and importance, but their reach into the nation's business was still felt.  Patsy's family left the docks years ago - right to work had killed any viable enterprise there - and had moved into finance, high-tech, and energy.  

They had a good hold on what came out of the ground and what didn't in North Dakota and particularly what moved; they were instrumental in directing off-shore investment traffic their way; and had made millions out of the deregulation of gambling.  This enterprise they knew well, so had no difficulty in negotiating the new open market terrain. 

When Patsy was contacted by a Trump operative after his stunning victory in November - a feat no political observer had thought possible given his conviction in New York - he was delighted.  He told the man that the former President should have contacted him long before. The family influence in New York was such that a more favorable judge and more complaisant prosecutor could have been appointed and Trump would have never have been charged let alone convicted. 

Water under the bridge, said the operative.  He was here on more immediate, pressing business.  The new President wanted to settle some scores, and while political retribution was certainly possible, it would take time and considerable wrangling. Many of his most vocal opponents were still in office and the Republican majority was paper thin.  So, the operative asked, 'What can you do for us?'. 

Now, the operative had done his homework and understood how his colleagues had engineered the assassination of the Kennedys - payback for JFK's refusal to get rid of Castro and his bothersome brother, keep a Cuban government favorable to business in power, and work out an arrangement with the families; and payback for Bobby's attacks on organized labor.  If the Mafia could get rid of a President, they certainly could take care of a few political hacks in Congress, so Patsy without hesitation replied, 'Whatever you want'. 

 

'No bloodshed', said the operative. 'Just do what you do best', and by that he meant intimidation.  More accommodation was reached through threats and minor injury than elimination, although that was always in store for the more stubborn. 

'Piece of cake', said Patsy, for he knew that with the smarmy doings of just about every member of Congress and given the importance of an image of rectitude and good will for reelection, a timely visit with some photos and voice recordings would be more than enough to do the trick. 

'Get rid of them', the operative went on.  The President didn't need or want their votes.  He wanted their heads. 

Patsy, never a political person - why should he be when his way of doing business was far more direct and cost-effective than any government enterprise - was still a strong Trump supporter, a man after his own heart playing loose and easy with the law and taking down ever real estate hot shot that ever crossed him.  He played with brains and muscle and never once hesitated to threaten and intimidate. 

There was that famous deal for the property on 49th Street where he needed some extra help and Patsy's cousins, the Palumbo brothers from Jersey, sealed the deal within weeks. No one in the market knew how Trump had secured the land, the lease, and the permits so quickly; but handshakes and anisette went all around the insiders of the Tri-State region. 

So, Patsy knew that the President meant business.  'Clean these cocksuckers out' were the exact words the operative passed along to him.  Did the President have anyone in mind, Patsy wondered.  'Funny you should ask', replied the operative and gave him a FOR YOUR EYES ONLY, BURN AFTER READING list. 

'Really? Her?'  Patsy recognized the first name on the list and had himself long wished that someone would push that hectoring cunt off the Brooklyn Bridge.  'Super', he said, glanced at the remaining names on the list, and in the presence of the operative had their own little auto-da-fe as the list went up in smoke. Patsy would be advised of the next five in due time. 

Patsy was delighted.  This assignment would put his family and the rest of the families back in the real business of running the country.  Yes, of course they deserved kudos and credit for their work on Wall Street.  It wasn't George Soros or the Trilateral Commission that determined interest rates, currency values, and trading on the Bourse, but the families; but this would be a different ball of wax entirely.

The country would see the resignation, disappearance, and unknown whereabouts of the new President's political enemies and while all the credit would go to Trump and his political savviness, insiders would know exactly how the housecleaning came about. 

 

Patsy was as delighted as a schoolboy.  He had heard rumors of his own Congressman's dalliances with choirboys for years, but because of his cozy relationship with the Archbishop had kept things quiet and his seat secure.  No longer, now that Patsy was on the case.  Nothing would give Patsy more pleasure than to exile this buggering pederast to Ouagadougou. 

'Calm down', he told himself. As it had been for decades, the mantra 'It's only business' had kept the families in good stead. A cool head and a managerial approach was always the best; so Patsy shook his head, shot his cuffs, and got on the phone. 

'The Midnight Visitations', as the knocks on the door of the intended victims were called when the executive orders went out.  Although Patsy's family had been singled out by the President for past services rendered and premier performance, he would need help; and internecine rivalries were put aside for this seminal enterprise - the one operation that would put the organization back again in complete power.  

No more Justice Department, no more Congressional committees, no more hounding and hectoring.  The way was clear, and this clarity assured the cooperation of all. 

The operation was to start right after Inauguration Day, so Patsy who had been contacted well before was ready and waiting.  The Charge of the Light Brigade was about to begin. 


No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.