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Crime Does Pay

Page 1

by Vincent Monaco




  A True Crime Story

  BOOK ONE

  Sex, Lies and Mobile Homes

  Vincent Monaco

  .

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright 2012 Vincent Monaco

  License Notes: Thank you for downloading this free eBook. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This book may be reproduced, copied and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its complete original form. If you enjoyed this book, please return to Smashwords.com to discover other great works by this highly acclaimed and bestselling author. Thank you for your continued support.

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  Table of Contents

  Introduction

  PART ONE - Sex, Lies and Mobile Homes

  I. Mobile Home Sex with The Sexual Tyrannosaurus

  II. Brother Barry And The Transvestite Incident

  III. Peas and Carrots

  IV. We Don't Sell Mobile Homes to Niggers, Because We Hang 'Em from Wayne Frier's Nigger Hangin' Tree

  V. The Sexual Hound Dog Meets The Stripper

  VI. The Wise Bull

  Introduction

  Most books begin with the same opening lines, "There are a great number of books written on the subject of crime, some of which are very helpful, but these books are not organized into an easy to understand format, thus creating a need to be filled, so follow my easy step by step formula and . . . ." What gibberish! Not only are these books not helpful but in fact, are detrimental to millions of people who believe in their brainwashing babble, because these books avoid the junk of life called, reality. After stripping away all of the fluff and fancy phrases that sound good but in the real world do not work, you have nothing but a big fairy tale, a book that portrays an unrealistic make-believe world, an illusion that becomes a trap when the bubble bursts, as it did for me and many others who go out in the real world every day to get their heads bashed in by reality. Most of these books are written by ostriches with their heads in the sand to escape reality, who lack the courage and fortitude to tell the truth the way it really is, rather than the big lie that they fantasize it to be. Why write a book at all, only to fill it with falsehoods? Why lie to say something positive like "the Judge is law-abiding," instead of being truthful that "the Judge is a deranged bloodthirsty de facto maniac," is the bare truth negative? I think not.

  It boils down to, behind the smoke and mirrors; behind the excuses and polite talk; behind the politically correct explanations; behind the soft shoe routines; behind any justification of a lie — is fear! Crime Does Pay fearlessly gives you a shocking true crime story that every person needs to know about since your very freedom is at stake here. We will shatter the myths with principles that work. How to avoid the pitfalls of becoming a victim that can wipe out your entire nest egg. Learn how to win your trumped-up felony case and then, in T minus four days you must ready yourself for the arrival of your assigned Assassins! Learn to use your nest egg very wisely because you now have an added expense of purchasing firearms if you wish to remain in the land of the living, especially since truth, justice and the American way has been reorganized into something evil that will scare the dickens out of you! Ensure a fair and equitable deal on all transactions. Learn how to escape from an army of corrupt Cops while swimming through swamps with crocodiles snapping at your heels. Distinguish the negative and positive emotions, behaviors and actions of criminal-minded people of which includes your smiling Defense Attorney who wants to separate you from your nest egg. Listen to your inner instinct, if something feels wrong after shaking hands with your smiling attorney, first count your fingers to see if one is missing, then count your money. Due to the sensitive contents contained within this book, I certify that all stories, events, conversations, quotes, references, statements, documents, people, crimes, philosophies, conspiracies as well as the conspiracy to commit murder and all accounts described herein are indisputable, irrefutable, authentic, genuine, true and are precisely accurate, so help me God.

  PART ONE

  Sex, Lies and Mobile Homes

  I

  Mobile Home Sex with The Sexual Tyrannosaurus

  TODAY, March 7, 2003, as I pause for a moment while telling this true crime story to continually look over my shoulder to stare out the window with life and death concerns and if all appears safe and secure for the next minute, I'll switch from my handgun to a pen to continue my writing of this true but deadly story, since I have been hunted by a murderous mob of cutthroat Assassins for the past four months to prevent this story from being told and where do I begin to tell such a story and how did I ever get involved in one heck of a mess that seems to have no other outcome other than a big bloody shoot-out? As my thoughts slowly drift back in time to relive this crime-ridden odyssey from the very beginning, I can clearly remember the day that the harebrained idea of relocating to Florida popped into my head with pure excitement at the thought of a new beginning in a different State and what a huge mistake that was. Even though an attorney had warned me that "they are still fighting the Civil War in Florida and I would not move there if I were you, because the Goddamn Rednecks hate New Yorkers down there," I laughed and ignored his advice since I did not think it to be true and I was dead wrong, which is my second huge mistake. Relocating from the cool dry mountainous air of Las Vegas, Nevada to the hot humid inhumane heat of Florida is my third huge mistake. Between the sweltering humidity, the bug infested swamplands spread throughout Florida and especially the enormous amount of sheer corruption that of which is inclusive of a de facto State government as well as a rigged Court system since a legion of Nazi Judges only dispense Gestapo Law, I can honestly tell you that I really hate this goddamn place. Why would anyone in their right mind move to this third world country known as Florida? Anyone who moves here must be off their rocker and I can truly attest that most people here, definitely have more than a few screws loose which frankly means, they are All Goddamn Crazy and that's putting it politely; as we shall soon see my friends. Unbeknownst to me, by relocating to Florida my path is now set on a collision course with destiny and in the relentless pursuit of justice, I'll be forced to fight not only against a thieving employer who loves to rob their employees blind by stealing their hard earned wages, but to discover and also fight against Florida's Legion of Nazi Judges who with mutinous injustice are more than happy to frame the innocent citizen with a trumped-up felony rap for a Goddamn Payola Envelope and if the framed citizen fights tooth and nail to cheat the gallows by vindicating himself innocent with the triumphant winning of his case at Trial, then in T minus four days the Judges in collusion with the ex-employer will attack with Plan B which is better known as "The Final Solution of the Innocent Citizen Question" and the vindicated citizen will be hunted by homicidal Hit-men with the Judges' Order to kill the citizen who escaped conviction and in the corrupt State of Florida — life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness is a Goddamn Pipe Dream! After taking the plunge by moving to Florida to one day sit alone in a parking lot to sadly gaze at the backwater surroundings while a disastrous feeling of gloom and doom over the tragic mistake of moving here overwhelms me, after two hours pass an idea takes hold and I decide on a real estate development career, since this is something that I had done before with great success and if I can make enough money in a short span of one year, I can leave this God forsaken place with extreme speed and this is the plan that I adopt and little do I know at this early time, that this plan will extend my stay for many torturous years to come. As I drive from town to town it becomes quite apparent that the Rednecks of Florida prefer to live in mobile homes since there is not a stick built house to be found. So, during the hot sweltering month of November 2000, with my resume in hand I enter The Wayne Frier M
anufactured Home Center of Homosassa Springs dealership to have my first interview with the manager who is Christopher Cramer and upon passing the interview with flying colors, Chris wants me to meet the regional manager of this entire region of Florida and he goes by the Redneck name of Brother (Jason) Brent Wainwright and at this interview, an agreed upon contract is fully entered upon for my salesmanship in an independent contractor's relationship with all commission moneys expressed as a percentage of the overall net profit to the dealership for the sale of each mobile home sold and in comparison to other salesmen, within a few months due to my high sales volume my percentage becomes the highest but I will not be obtaining a draw salary each week that the other salesmen receive, of which is fine by me since I plan to rack up sales that this dealership has never seen before! At the first interview as well as during many other conversations with the manager Chris Cramer, who, with the utmost conviction boasts that a good salesman can earn up to three hundred thousand dollars ($300,000.00) per year, but with my sales ability, hard work and tenacity, I should earn much more, perhaps even double, of which my sales quickly climbs to well over three times that amount and if you apply Murphy's Law and subtract one-third of all sales, my sales do, indeed, minimally add up to double that sum which in fact becomes the true number of my earned wages which is equivalent to six hundred thousand dollars ($600,000.00), but unbeknownst to me at this early time, I'll never receive one single dollar of this earned money because Wayne Frier's creed of greed is to always "steal, steal, steal and then to steal some more"! To sum up the situation, Wayne Frier and his two crimeful sons own in the vicinity of up to seventy mobile home dealerships spread throughout Florida and Georgia and within three months my hard work pays off and I become the number one salesman with more mobile homes sold than ten dealerships with ten salesmen per dealership. My long grueling work week is seven days per week with as many hours as 96 hours per week with 70 to 90 hours per week being the norm. Most nights I have a throng of new customers lined up until two o'clock in the morning and the pitch black model homes that are without electricity, are shown with my flashlight and usually not one customer leaves without buying a mobile home and by the time that I get finished with the paperwork, its four o'clock in the Goddamn Morning! The massive sum of customers that I have, has not only filled up my large pipeline to the maximum, my pipeline is clogged beyond belief and the enormous amount of telephone calls that I receive every day without a moment of rest, is enough to make you go bonkers! After a short eighteen (18) hour day, I generally have three to seven houses sold and eventually, my customer base exceeds the milestone of three hundred customers and at this point, I have no other choice but to lock my office door in hopes of turning away all new customers who then begin to frantically pound on my door to get in as if the house is for free. When the frantic knocking subsides, to look up is to see the customer giving me a quizzical stare through the glass and at this point, I'm forced to sadly admit, "I'm swamped! I cannot handle any more customers, please see the other salesmen down the hallway who are reading the newspaper with their feet on the desk with nothing to do. Please leave me alone!" But some customers refuse to walk down the hallway to see another salesman because for one reason or another, they have their hopes and dreams of home ownership pinned on me and after two to four minutes of knocking and staring, I'm forced to sell another Goddamn House! Within my first month of working at the dealership, I begin to notice that something very peculiar happens to people who work at a dealership, because most employees become nymphos to act in an overly horny manner without any control over oneself and this man over here is cheating on his wife by having sex with that woman over there who is also cheating on her husband; the other woman over there is cheating on her boyfriend by having lesbian sex with that girl over there; Brother Brent who loves to wear a bra and panties is cheating on his wife by having hot transvestite sex with Brother Barry Branson; the manager Christopher Cramer is cheating on his wife by having hot sweaty sex with a married woman from the Title Company as well as with his red-headed secretary who looks exactly like his red-headed wife except for being twenty years younger and I kid you not when I tell you this, at the dealership its a Goddamn Orgy Of Free-For-All Sex! At the close of my third week at the dealership, this all becomes apparent on Friday evening when Jason R. Klier (449-91-8894, who is another salesman) and I decide to close the dealership early for a wild night on the town, but before the fun can begin, Jason wants to change his clothing so to stop at his mobile home which is about ten city blocks away becomes imperative and it also becomes, an eye opener of the wild animalistic sex that occurs not on a daily basis, but on an hourly basis! Upon entering Jason's mobile home, I cannot do otherwise than to notice that every piece of furniture is knocked over, picture frames are knocked off the wall and various items of female attire of which includes a red bra and lacy panties are shredded into many pieces and are scattered throughout his home as if a wild savage chase occurred with pieces of clothing being ripped off every few feet and as I follow the long trail of broken buttons, pieces of a torn bra and lacy panties ripped beyond all recognition, the long trail of destroyed furniture, torn clothing and assorted debris leads directly into Jason's bedroom, of which is a bedroom that appears as if a powerful tornado has ran through it leaving all furniture and debris in one massive pile of rubble and wreckage. In the center of the bedroom hanging on a light bulb, is a sexy but torn pair of red fishnet stockings as well as a torn garter belt and located on the floor is a woman's blouse in which is missing all of its buttons because it was savagely torn off the woman as she ran from room to room to escape an animalistic attack of the sexual kind. As I crouch down to pick up one four inch red high-heeled shoe that is torn in half that also displays deep embedded teeth marks and while I hold the bitten shoe in midair, with a hearty chuckle I excitedly exclaim to the very embarrassed and red-faced Jason R. Klier:

  "You must be a sexual tyrannosaurus! What the hell happened here? Did you rip her blouse off and bite into her shoe like a hungry tyrannosaurus? Look at the floor, all of the buttons to her blouse are scattered on the floor, what kind of a sick animal are you to bite into someone's shoe like some kind of a teething werewolf? Did the naked girl hop all the way home on one red high-heeled shoe, or is she buried somewhere in the backyard?"

  In a depressed tone of voice, Jason slowly replies: "Its not me. I'm not The Sexual Tyrannosaurus, because our manager Chris Cramer is The Sexual Tyrannosaurus. Every day around lunch time Chris calls me on my cellular phone to ask if he can use my home for another day of mobile home sex with Audra Chandler, who, is the title closer for Southern Security Title Services and most times Chris is so horny, that mobile home sex occurs three to five times per day and that's not only with Audra, because every day he brings his twenty-one year old secretary to my house for mobile home sex as well. Sometimes he also bangs another broad who I don't even know her name and there are some days that Chris bangs three, four and even sometimes five different women in the same day and after all that, he goes home to fuck his wife, so how can I tell my manager that he can't fuck hot girls in my mobile home? I can't tell him that! So everyday that Horny Bastard is in my house fucking many strange women who I don't even know. And Chris always refuses to share his horny bitches with me and I have yet to get laid in my own Goddamn Mobile Home! And the strange thing about it is, in a single day there's more naked pussy running around in my mobile home than in a Goddamn Whorehouse! And with all of these hot naked chicks running around, I never get fucken pussy! It ain't fair! Chris gets to fuck Audra Chandler in the pussy, mouth and asshole everyday and wouldn't you think that after all this time of fucking Audra and his young secretary, that Chris would throw a little pussy my way, but he never does because he's a big fucken hog! Chris doesn't care to realize, I gotta get me some soggy pussy and tight asshole too! Once a month Audra's blood is put on my walls, because Chris loves to finger paint. There's so many naked broads running around my home during the day, that when
I get home it smells like the fish market and I always have to open the windows and that's not fair to me, because the fishy stench of naked chicks makes me very horny! If Chris said to me, you can fuck this asshole but don't cum in it, I would obey him! I'll even fuck a fat chick, just give me any pussy or crappy asshole and I'll fuck it!"

  Two days later on Monday morning, I'm sitting at my desk and guess who comes trotting into my office to ask if it is possible to increase his sexual libido? Why! its Its The Sexual Tyrannosaurus in the flesh! Its the manager Christopher Cramer:

  "Vince, since you're a champion bodybuilder who won Mr. Colonial America like Arnold Schwarzenegger did I think, so you must know the answer to my main vitamin question that is so very important that I get a correct answer, because my sex life is dependent on your answer and so are the orgasms of my horny girls who I have spoiled, because my girls love to cum when I hurt them with painful beatings and bondage! I need your recommendation for a good overall vitamin that will increase my sexual libido, because having hot sex with only five women per day isn't enough for me, so I need to increase my sexual desire for pussy, I would like to increase it to nine girls per day."

  But before I can reply with an intelligent answer, Jason walks by my office and with a twist of the head, an envious expression appears on his face and since Jason is a brown-noser, he makes a beeline into my office not to miss a single word said and while entering my office, Jason blurts out, "Tell Vince about your hourly sex habits. You can tell Vince about it because he already knows about it, cause on Friday night he saw the ripped bra and panties and he called you — The Sexual Tyrannosaurus!"

  While laughing himself into stitches at the compliment, Chris gloatingly responds:

 

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