Like the smell of stale non-filter Camel shorts in a crumpled pack of cigarettes, found in a mothballed old suit coat in the back of the closet, the putrid aroma came in waves from this deranged, dangerous and deadly excuse for a human being. Wesley Penrod, sharkbait waiting to happen. This fish already has a hook in his mouth. The bobber is bobbing up and down and Uncle Charlie is getting ready to set the hook and gently reel him in. It is a give and take situation. It’s also a dog eat dog situation and Wesley Penrod is a junk yard dog that just escaped still dragging the broken chain around. Still stinking. They sometimes call him “Scarface”
Mr. Penrod worked for the mafia until he became the don of his own mafia, created from street punks he knows. One little punk was Paul. You see, Paul was a piece of shit sort of human being. He hated himself and everyone else. He felt cheated and stealing shit made him feel better about himself because not only did he screw the person he stole it from, he also screwed the people he sold it to and himself at the same time. Paul was a screwer and you know the drill, screwers always get screwed.
A shit eating grin and a line of shit a mile long, designed to entice and endear friends. The Paul was in action. The Paul was on the stalk for some good times. He wrapped a tee shirt around a fist sized chunk of concrete and in one hard swing, he busted the plate glass window of the jewelry store display and snatched the diamond bracelet and some other handy items and ran as hard as he could to the safety of a nearby fire escape ladder and up to the roof where he examined his loot. He grabbed a bracelet, a ring and a necklace, all gold and diamonds and all in one quick, clean, swipe. He swiped it good. Paul is a good swiper.
In the morning he came down off the roof and went straight to the jewelry store that buys gold. He knew the items were valued at over $5,000 dollars but he graciously accepted $500 when offered it. I guess it offended Pauly. He took the $500 cash and pulled out a gun and took the jewelry with him too. He also grabbed a few more rings while he was there. Actually, the total monetary value of the loot in this particular heist came to over $250,000 dollars, a quarter-million dollars. The was typical of Paul. He didn’t shoot the guy. That’s why Mr. Penrod liked him. It was a clean, dirty business. That was as long as Pauly told him everything he did, which he didn’t and that is part of the reason, Mr. Penrod had to get rid of Pauly. That is why Mr. Penrod set Pauly up. That is why Pauly is doing life in prison now. This is how screwer Paul got his screwing. Pauly sang like a bird behind bars but it didn’t do him any good. The warden works for Mr. Penrod. Damn, Pauly hates solitary confinement. Damn shame, I guess.
Mr. Penrod also had a few local punks in every town near Atlantic City. The fencing operation was really fruitful. They transported loads of stolen items from town to town to keep it moving and to keep moving it. They moved a lot of merchandise. From exotic cars to exotic wrist watches, to exotic dancing women to exotic drugs from exotic places. How sickeningly exotic.
Hypnotized or drug dazed? The followers followed like they wanted to go to prison. That is because they do want to go to prison. They can’t run their own life, so they want someone else to run it for them. Stupid if you ask me, but what do I know? I’m just a Kentucky Capon.
There has to be a woman in this story and there is. She plays a pivotal part in the destruction of these human beings. She is the black widow in disguise. For thirty-five years, she has reaped the benefits of the mob operation, with exotic vacations, luxury travels, pampered bank accounts and a host of vendors at her beckon call. She has unlimited spending power and at the height of it all, she takes the money, hides it and participated in an FBI sting to bust her boyfriend, Wesley Penrod. She had been a paid informant the whole time she had lived with him. Burning the candle at both ends. Now the flames meet in the middle. Her name was Thelma Cavalier. Was, that is… until the knife was brought to her throat. They said there was a lot of blood and that it was apparent that she had taken her own life. There were no foot prints on the side walk, so the Chief of Police in that precinct, closed the case. Case closed.
Mr. Penrod appeals the case and is set free on one million dollars cash bond. He paid it in cash and left the country. Even though he forfeits the money and there is the court date that he never shows up for. No, he never shows up. He is a skank in another country, raping, looting, killing and taking what is not his, and no one is stopping him.
Mr. P looks at the picture of old Pauly on his computer and thinks to himself, “Maybe I ought to spring him and bring him home again, except this time, after he makes me a lot of money, kill the bastard when he screws up. It’s a win-win situation.”
When Pauly hears, Scarface sneers. After a few beers it’s back to bidness.
You can hear the motors hum right along in the new blade sharpening business that Mr. Penrod just opened. Yepper, humming right along. The place is looking sharp. Very sharp, very sharp indeed.