Crime Does Pay

by Vincent Monaco

  As my piercing stare pierces thru the misty cloud of stench to reach the far side of the lobby, I can't help but to think, "No, it can't be. Or is it possible? Is it possible that the cute little pooch made a big bowel movement, is that what happened here?"

  While I stare downward to inspect the rug in order to locate the smelly pile of feces, but no feces can be found when all of a sudden, the sexy wife lifts up the last cushion on the couch to then scream in horror "Holy Shit! There it is! That's one big pile of shit"! While almost vomiting from the stench, I yell out "Don't Touch A Goddamn Thing! Don't Touch Anything"! The sexy wife then says what we are all thinking:

  "I was wondering why this last cushion was so high compared to the other cushions and then, I began to wonder what was under that cushion to make that cushion bulge up so very high and now we know, that its a big pile of smelly shit? But how did that big pile of shit get there? Did that cute little toy poodle poop out this gigantic pile of stinky shit, or was it someone else?"

  Without saying another word, since speaking another word is impossible to do since the nauseating and sickening stench of this huge pile of shit is more than enough to cause a person to vomit, faint and become deathly ill and I do not want this putrid foul stench to soil the purchase of my new customer's mobile home, so I immediately usher this inquisitive couple outside to inhale the noxious fumes of the parking lot. Who is of such a sick mind that this person would actually leave a gigantic mound of shit behind and who would carefully stash a massive mountain of shit under the far cushion of a couch, who is mentally insane enough to actually do this without getting caught in the process of committing this dastardly dirty deed? And I can't help but to notice that this massive mound of stinky shit is located on the couch exactly where The Tasmanian Devil was peacefully sitting and is it possible that this heap of smelly shit originated from the bowels of Judy Corriveau, or is the little pooch to blame? Is it an accidental mishap, or is it a premeditated shitting? While my new customers and I stand in the parking lot fighting the strong urge to vomit, I spot a construction worker who I know and after flagging him down to join us in conversation and after describing the nauseating and sickening events that have just transpired, with a real big hearty laugh he announces that he has a massive pooper-scooper in his pickup truck and he will use it to pick up and remove this massive mountain of steamy shit. And since this construction guy has lived his entire life on a farm, "Since I lived my entire life on a farm, it will be easy for me to closely analyze, examine and scrutinize every little piece of the steaming shit to determine where it originated from and who is to blame, did it come from dog or human, is the most important question that we seek an answer to? And no harm will come to us, because I always handle shit as if its radioactive uranium." "We need to stick around for this answer," the sexy wife exclaims excitedly. The construction guy runs to his old pickup truck to return with a large home-made pooper-scooper and with plugs up his nose, he bravely and most carefully enters the lobby and inch by inch he slowly approaches the last cushion of the couch and after a ten minute close examination without speaking a word and as the sexy wife and I stand ten feet behind him to anxiously await for the verdict, the profound silence scares everyone when all of a sudden, he clears his throat to speak:

  "Holy Shit! This is one shitty job, but someone has to do it! I'm so great at this, that the only way to perform a better forensic examination than I can perform, is to perform a DNA profile, because I'm the best! As a forensic expert in shitty matters of fecal matter, I have made my final determination and I know exactly where this immense pile of shit came from. This shit is not from a dog or any other animal, because its Its — Human Shit! Unless the little pooch eats big mouthfuls of, Of, Of — Peas and Carrots! Its human shit because the human ate a TV dinner with lots of peas and carrots in it! Its definitely human shit, look at this lump of shit over here, look how many peas and carrots are in this little lump of shit alone, there must be forty peas and ten baby carrots that the fat bitch ate without chewing it. Where ever I look, I see loads of peas and carrots, all I see is, Is, IS — Peas and Carrots! The foul stench of this shit is so powerful, that its bringing tears to my eyes. My eyes are so watery, that I feel like I'm peeling a Big Goddamn Onion!"

  As this forensic expert begins to use his pooper-scooper to scoop up the poop, I'm extremely concerned about the sickening stench lingering throughout the dealership like a dense cloud for all to smell, vomit and get deathly ill throughout the long day. After questioning the forensic expert as to the best way to eliminate the shitty odor of shit, he advised us to spray any kind of air-freshener throughout the dealership every fifteen minutes for the next three days and the advice of this forensic expert, is strictly adhered to by all employees for the next fifteen days. By the time that this shitty nightmare ends, we emptied no less than thirty-nine big cans of air-freshener and a bag lunch, is not eaten in the dealership for the next three months. Soon after removing the massive mountain of steamy shit that is chock-full of peas and carrots, with the gathering of all employees who desire to hear the wise words of infinite knowledge and forensic wisdom, the very wise forensic expert returns to the lobby and being a simple man of profound and limited words, he only has this to say:

  "As one of the world's leading forensic experts in the growing field of human shit, I have pieced together each and every separate element to then bring these separate elements together to form the entire event that will be forever known from this day forward as — Peas and Carrots! This fat devil woman who you refer to as The Tasmanian Devil, sat her big evil ass down on the poor defenseless couch and when the coast was clear, she lifted the cushion up while lowering her panties to defecate three days worth of human shit onto the defenseless couch. Then, this disgusting fat bitch reached into her shit covered panties to grab many long links of her own smelly shit as if its a sausage link to then forcefully heave it against the walls, carpet and ceiling. And if she ever gets questioned about this event known as Peas and Carrots, the Bitch has the perfect alibi, because the lying bitch will blame it on her innocent little pooch, regardless of the fact that her little toy poodle would have to crap more shit at a single sitting than its own body weight. The shit actually weighs more than the toy poodle; and I know this for a fact because I carried her heavy shit to the dumpster and it weighed between fourteen to sixteen pounds of pure shit! Because Judy shits like a Goddamn Polar Bear! The only question that still remains unanswered in the mind of my mind, is when that carrot eating bitch and her dog returned to her house, I wonder if Judy washed her hands before she ate another TV dinner? And I shudder to think, what her manicurist must go through to clean her fingernails?"

  IV

  We Don't Sell Mobile Homes to Niggers,

  Because We Hang 'Em from Wayne Frier's Nigger Hangin' Tree

  THE MATERIAL in this chapter as well as all other chapters is not censored nor sanitized and is therefore an unvarnished record in which preserves exactness and thereby it is without suppression or removal of what may be considered offensive, so let it roll off your chest because in Florida this is known as — Goddamn Reality!

  During my inaugural week at the dealership, I'm in the back room looking down the long hallway when I notice a black woman opening the front door to step into the lobby to then wait silently to be helped, but the strange thing about this event is that no one would help this woman, every salesman ignored her as if she wasn't standing in the lobby. At this very early time, I am without an office because Terry R. Spell (355-62-1859) is still occupying my office since he has not yet moved his customer files and office knickknacks to The Ironwood Dealership located one-quarter of a mile down the road which is a dealership that is owned by the same owners, which is the sole dealership that is purposely set up and designed to fraudulently process all FHA mortgages and outside of the manager Christopher Cramer who has a short life span left at the dealership, Terry Spell is by far the best and only other salesman who has the in-depth knowledge as well
as being extremely experienced in falsifying all FHA mortgages for the likes of Brother Brent Wainwright and Wayne Frier, but more about this later. Since its Terry's turn to take the black woman as an "up" of which is also known in sales as a lead, from the back room I use the intercom system to buzz Terry in his office to question him, "Are you going to help the black woman in the lobby since it is your turn to receive the next 'up,' this poor woman has been waiting for a very long time to be helped and if you don't help her, I will?" But to my surprise, instead of Terry getting mad over losing his rotation for this "up," he laughingly says, "Here in Florida we don't sell houses to black Spooks, we never sell our mobile homes to Niggers, is the standard practice that Wayne Frier and Brother Brent demand that we follow and I refuse to waste my time by helping her, so if you want to waste your time, you can have my 'up,' so the Nigger is all yours, ha, ha!"

  While Terry chuckles with a racist laugh, I hang the phone up and walk down the long hall to introduce myself to the black woman to see if I can be of any assistance and little do I know at this very early time, in months to come the sale of one of our mobile homes to the family of this black woman will develop into a ferocious fight between Brother Brent and myself. Upon introducing myself, I learn that the black woman's name is Mrs. Lyle Plummer who is very serious about purchasing a mobile home if only someone would help her and she is a very nice, friendly and respectful woman, who maintains a pleasant attitude which redounds to her credit since she is fully aware that she remained in the lobby without any help due to racism. While I spend all the time necessary to show her the best model homes that fit her and her family's needs and in the midst of the fourth showing, she confides in me that "even though I was badly mistreated by this dealership in the beginning, I like and trust you Vince and I want to buy a mobile home from you, because I know that you will do your best to protect me from anymore racism that may occur from other people."

  Of which turns out to be an uncanny prediction of the future and this prediction is so accurate, that its uncanny! After Mrs. Plummer falls in love with one particular model home nicknamed as "The Schooner," the issue of the down payment becomes the topic and it is decided that a one thousand dollar down payment made out to the dealership will suffice, which in the mobile home business is considered, a very large and adequate deposit that shows extreme seriousness in the purchasing of a mobile home package. And being a woman of her word, the very next day Mrs. Plummer returns to the dealership to provide me with the one thousand dollar check to meet her down payment requirement and about two weeks after that, she returns with her husband Lyle to take the grand tour of the mobile home that she has picked out, of which meets with Lyle's full approval. Since I had been a champion bodybuilder with many titles under my belt and Lyle is a welder who lifts heavy sheets of sheet metal that has transformed him into one huge muscular dude who is so huge that if he ever gets mad, you will not hesitate to run in the opposite direction, so we have many things in common and this common ground quickly cements a close bond and friendship, which equals the friendship that I have had with his wife since day one, so working closely with Mr. and Mrs. Plummer is a pleasant task. After the grand tour the happy and excited couple settles into my office to provide the many answers to a very long questionnaire that will provide the necessary information to begin the long mortgage process and some time later a mortgage approval is achieved through Big Larry "the Fucken Bank" Kelner, of which is always a mortgage approval from IndyMac Bank in California. I then make the necessary arrangements to connect the Plummer family to an adept real estate broker who subdivided his own immense plot of vacant land into many smaller parcels and Mr. and Mrs. Plummer absolutely love one particular parcel of vacant land to which they enter into a land contract to purchase this parcel of vacant land for the construction of their new mobile home and with success at every turn, the excitement of home ownership is in the air. With many long months of success attained and just as the experience of home ownership becomes so real that you can reach out and touch it, when in a matter of a mere few seconds it is all yanked away by the despicable Brother Brent Wainwright, who, at a mandatory evening meeting is very proud to issue the standing and direct Order of:

  "No Niggers Allowed! We Don't Sell Mobile Homes to Niggers, Because We Hang 'Em from Wayne Frier's Nigger Hangin' Tree! But sometimes, instead of lynching the Nigger, I feed my Niggers to the 'gators as 'gator bait because the Florida 'gators really loves to eats Nigger meats, Ha, Ha, Ha! Me and the great Mr. Wayne Frier issue that direct Order directly to yous as our salesmen and if yous don't obey it, we'll force it on you with force! Even though that Vince thinks it and his high number of sales proves it, that Vince is the best salesman here, but despite all of that Vince is not the best salesman here, because the great me is! Because a Redneck is always better at sales than a Yankee and I'm not only a sexy Redneck, I'm an intelligent Redneck who was educated with education! Because it is true that We the Rednecks are the master race, which means that We Confederate Rednecks are the master race who will one day rule the world since the South will rise again! Hereupon, what I say now comes straight from the big horse's mouth who is the great Mr. Wayne Frier himselves, however, out of every singular salesman in this large dealership, it only affects Vince because the Order is: No Black Coons Allowed! No Nigger is allowed to achieve home ownership because we do not sell our mobile homes to the black slaves, because we only sell our houses to white trash Redneck folk! If a salesman in this dealership ever sells one of my mobile homes to a Nigger and when I finds out about it, with the great unspeakable power of the mighty me, I will kill that mortgage approval and the deal will never close! So do not waste your time By Selling To Spooks Because Niggers Ain't Allowed! We Don't Sell Mobile Homes To Niggers, Because We Hang 'Em From Wayne Frier's Nigger Hangin' Tree!"

  Since I always work during the evenings and my customers are aware of this, I am paged that I have four telephone calls on hold, so I take this golden opportunity to leave the meeting to enter my office to then close my office door to totally ignore the meeting as well as what Brother Brent has said, to instead answer my waiting phone calls. And this obviously pisses off Brother Brent because within two seconds of the end of this important company meeting, Brother Brent jumps off his chair to run at breakneck speed into my office to then give me my own private meeting that recaps Every Single Goddamn Word that he has said to make it perfectly clear to me that:

  "No Niggers Are Allowed To Attain The Status Of Home Ownership With Our F-U-C-K-E-N Mobile Homes! And this is not only the prime directive from the great me, but is the prime directive of the great Mr. Wayne Frier as well! So this standing Order which is also a direct Order, can never be ignored because it comes directly from me and the great Mr. Wayne Frier as well! I spelt out the F-u-c-k-e-n F word because my ears are too virginal to hear me say that big bad, extremely dirty and unpure word and that's why I always spell it out rather than to say it, because I'm a sweet little virgin boy with virginal ears who is as pure as the driven snow that is pure white snow without any yellow snow in it, is what my transvestite lovers always say and I believe them, because my sexy little virginal ears have never heard a bad and dirty cuss word. This private meeting between you and me has been a long time coming Vince, because you have too many F-u-c-k-e-n Niggers as customers! Since having one Nigger is far too many and you have nearly a dozen of them and that is disrespectful to us as racist Rednecks who hate the Nigger! Buzz the girl Lauren and tell that dirty no-good cunt to stop paging you because the great I, is in your office talking to you and my talk is more important than the customer's talk. So tell that big loudmouth bitch Lauren that I said to shut the F-u-c-k Up Already! Tell that horny little slut Lauren who had a one night stand with a black Nigger two times last week and do you know what that dirty Nigger did? Without asking, he took the virginity of her pure virgin anus that she was saving for marriage and now her future husband will not have a virgin hole to penetrate, because the Nigger got it! Then that ugly
Nigger opened the door to the hotel room to allow four of his homeboys to race in to have anal sex with her tender little anus as well! By the end of the night every hole that Lauren has, was screwed repeatedly by five jungle bunnies, I mean Niggers! Her anus got screwed so many times, that the Niggers used up two jars of Vaseline! Since Lauren disobeyed the advice that I gave to her about Niggers, I'm very glad that she got raped by five Niggers because that proves that I was right about them Niggers! It was silly for Lauren to think that she can hang out all night long with the Nigger to use his drugs without the Spook sodomizing her tight little asshole as pay back for the drugs that she consumed. Lauren had to take three sick days to allow her tender little anus to heal up enough so that she can walk again. So you can tell that Nigger Lover that if she pages you one more time, that she can consider her Nigger Lovin' Ass Fired and I don't care how many phone calls that you gots on hold, 'cause your calls are interrupting my wise words of wisdom that when said, it will be wise wisdom wisely said. (So to satisfy Brent's demands and while using the intercom system, I politely tell Lauren to take messages only without paging me, because Brother Brent and I are in a private meeting and cannot be disturbed. Brother Brent then continues to hem and haw with:) I got off on a tangent about Lauren, because I am so really pissed off at that slutty Nigger Lover, because if its between me and a Nigger, I should be the first one to hump Lauren's virgin asshole since I'm the one to give her a big paycheck every week that she does not deserve. So I should have the first right of refusal to her horny little anus and no apelike Nigger should be able to get near it. There is not a white man in this galaxy who would want her anus after five African bush monkeys have banged it like a tom-tom drum! Because Lauren is what is known as, damaged goods that can never be repaired. It really pisses me off because instead of Lauren giving her virgin anus to a jungle bunny, that stupid cunt should've given it to Brother Barry Branson who has been begging for it for many months and what Lauren did, is not fair to Brother Barry who is always super horny for her fuzzy little peach and hot little asshole. I told Brother Barry the truth, he should of raped and sodomized Lauren in a furnished model home in the lot out back before that Nigger had a chance to do the same thing. Brother Barry should of dragged her ass into a model home to have anal sex when held captive as his prisoner, cause its a lot better for Lauren to be raped and viciously sodomized by a Redneck than to be raped in every hole by a filthy Nigger with his horny homeboys joining in. By Barry not dragging her into the tall weeds to rape her vagina and anus, he screwed up! But regardless of Lauren's night in the hotel room with five Niggers raping her tits, pussy and blood-soaked asshole, it doesn't faze Brother Barry in the least, because he is more determined than ever before to rape and sodomize Lauren's horny holes as well as to leave the big bloody imprint of his teeth on her fuzzy little round butt cheeks, because Brother Barry wants to filet her cheeks with his teeth and the more that the screaming Bitch bleeds, the more orgasms that Brother Barry will have! Brother Barry also needs to take a couple of fleshy chunks of skin and muscle from her sexy little butt cheeks home with him as a big trophy, so his orgasms can continue for many weeks at home. Which is nothing to cry about, because eventually the missing chunks of flesh bitten from her cheeks will grow back with only a few scars. I knows everything about Lauren, I knows about her great many sexual encounters that goes on in the back seat of a Volvo; I knows about Lauren's bloody periods; I knows if Lauren is wearing a tampon or a maxipad; I know how she masturbates; I knows that a spanking gets her wet and horny; I know everything that there is to knows about Lauren's dildo usage which includes the massive size that she prefers; I knows that she loves to stimulate her G spot with a powerful vibrator that holds ten large batteries; I knows that Lauren loves to expose the insides of her vagina to a video camera; I knows about the warts on her clitoris; I knows about the big cankers and tumors on her vulva during her syphilis attacks; I knows that Lauren shaves the hair off her vagina because she once had many crabs walking to and fro; I knows that Lauren douches when her vagina smells like the fish market which is about five days a week; I know that Lauren begs her boyfriend to lick her vagina and clitoris, but he never does; I knows that Lauren is seriously thinking about having a lesbian affair so that a vagina crazed lesbian will give her vagina the proper amount of tongue licking whether it smells like river trout or sea bass; I knows that when Lauren wakes up in the morning and her vagina smells like tuna fish, she calls it Morning Pussy; I know these secrets because Lauren tells these personal secrets to Lorraine who is sworn to secrecy, but Lorraine tells me everything because I'm the divine God who pays her with a large paycheck each week, so her loyalty is always with her God and my personal secretary Lorraine, has no problem in back-stabbing all others no matter who they is. But lets talk about you now, shall we? So I'll recap tonight's meeting for ya. On any deal that you have among your three hundred customer deals where the home buyer is a spear chucking Nigger, I now Order you with a direct and standing Order that forever stands standing as a standing Order, to kill every single deal where it will benefit a Nigger, I want the Nigger mortgages declined on your own say-so, so on tomorrow morning, you needs to call Big Larry 'the Bank' Kelner and tell Big Larry to kill Lyle Plummer's mortgage approval because I want that Nigger declined so I can steal his one thousand dollar down payment that that dumb monkey Nigger paid to me as well as to Mr. Wayne Frier when the deal started a long time ago, because we already withdrew it from the Frier Home Sales, Inc. account to put it in our pocket."