She reincarnates so often but she never upgrades.
Although she was born seemingly intelligent she has never learned the importance of reading the fine print.View attachment 372547
Not nice Repertor !!!!
She reincarnates so often but she never upgrades.
Although she was born seemingly intelligent she has never learned the importance of reading the fine print.View attachment 372547
You are going to get a significant number of demerits for that, Mr Repertor!
Not nice Repertor !!!!
You are in enough trouble already buster! Your ability to keep your nose out of demerit trouble rivals my ability to get into fatal trouble. Take that good scoundrel!!!
word from Al is that the mob is looking for some good-looking girls to work as hostesses at the big speak-easy over on 34th Street ... Al says interviews are at 10 am today, about half an hour from now."
"You want me to go undercover as a barmaid in a speakeasy?"
"It's a start; see where it goes from there. Al says to go around back, knock on the alley door twice, wait one minute, then knock six times. They'll let you in. Oh, and Al said 'hostess', not 'barmaid'. I think there is a difference, if you get my drift. So try to look the part, Moore."
Moore vs the mob. I hope she gets what's coming to her.
Don Ernesto, a student of the mob's sordid history
I think you're all overreacting. Ms. Moore will be fine. Al willalmost certainlylook out for her and her editor is almost certain to have all sorts of experience rescuing female reporters trying to expose "family" secrets. Nothing to worry about.
2. The alley behind the speakeasy on 34th Street
"Hey, Boss!" shouted the hatchet-faced capo. "Look at dis! It's dah brunette on dah end's business card. It says: Barbara Moore, Reporter, Daily Herald!
Rising abruptly to leave, the Don turned to Alphonso and speaking so softly I could barely hear him, "Al, kindly have the boys take Miss Moore to the cellar."
I didn't mind her fingering this boy..."Serves the broad right for tryin' to finger some of the boys. I hope they work 'er over good. Do either of you goombahs remember Louie Frazetti'? We called 'im 'Three Lips' because some guy had busted his upper lip real bad when he was young. Anyway, Louie was never much of an earner, but he sure knew how to handle a dame who was givin' us trouble. I remember one cute little number he smacked around so bad that she offered to take on all six of us. And he never left a mark on 'er face. Poor fuckin' Louie -- he's doin' 15 to 20 in Attica now for multiple counts of aggravated assault."
Don Ernesto
To begin with they just fired questions at me ... pinching and twisting my nipples, slapping my face or boxing my ears whenever they didn't like the answer. Then I got uncooperative and clammed up.
That was a big mistake. They pulled out a box full of electrical wires and clamps. While Melon-head cupped and squeezed my breasts, Neanderthal attached alligator clips to each nipple. The clips bit into my tumescent nipples and hurt like hell. I screamed and cursed as each clip was attached.
As the current was applied, I bucked and screamed,
Yessir. We thought at first she might be working for the Feds
Hoover knew better than to fuck with Tree's ancestors...This concern with 'the Feds' might be something of an anachronism given that the story is set in 1925.. J Edgar Hoover reportedly did not even acknowledge the existence of what we now think of as organized crime until well into the 1930's.
from Wikipedia:
"In the same period, {early 1930's} there were numerous Mafia shootings as a result of Prohibition, while Hoover continued to deny the very existence of organized crime.[30] Gangster Frank Costello helped encourage this view by feeding Hoover tips on sure winners through their mutual friend, gossip columnist Walter Winchell.[31] (Hoover had a reputation as "an inveterate horseplayer" known to send Special Agents to place $100 bets for him.)[31] Hoover said the Bureau had "much more important functions" than arresting bookmakers and gamblers.[31]
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But that's no reason not to zap her nipples.
"Whaddaya know about that, Gino. New York's Herald Square *is* on 34th St. The doll who wrote this knows what she's doin'."
Don Ernesto, east coast mob boss, enjoying this tale of the good old days.
"the doll who wrote this" ... I like the sound of that
Hey, girlie -- Don Ernesto has nuttin' but respect for the fair sex.
I looked at the thing. His grip on my hair tightened and he pressed my face closer. The band, the laughter, the scraping of chairs, the clink of glasses ... all rang in my ears ... I opened my mouth and closed my eyes ... he moved his hips ... I opened wider; started to gag ... and then something snapped ... I did the unthinkable ... I bit him!
It's like Redcap says. You just can't trust the media.