by Hercules
The man himself sat on an aging recliner at the exact centre of the room, watching cartoons on a huge television set. 'How can I help yous gentlemen?'
'Things have been sh...' Metho began, and then caught himself. It was a bad idea to swear in front of Mrs Spazevski because she had enormous influence with her husband and hated people with potty mouths.
'It's okay Gordon,' she said, and sat down beside Big Spaz. 'Sometimes curse words are the only way to express a thought.'
'It's the new residents,' Metho blurted out. 'They're buying everything except our products. We was wondering, cos they always looked smashed and that, whether you'd made distribution arrangements with someone else.'
'In any other situation, I would have taken offence at such an accusation,' Big Spaz said, and turned off the television.
'It wasn't an accusation,' Metho hurriedly tried to explain, but stopped when Big Spaz raised his hand.
'Not to worry, my friend. To be honest, I was expecting to see you and your boys here sooner or later. I know it's not your fault that the take has been down. And it's not just in Rosetown either, although this is the worst. The money has stopped flowin' in every suburb across the country that is gentrifying. The new residents just aren't buying. It's as if they go straight as soon as they move house.'
'But the fuckers are all stoned,' Metho said. 'We saw 'em at the auction just now. They was so wasted even Tits noticed it.'
'Gordon! What would your mother say?'
'Sorry Mrs Spazevski,' Metho said, sheepishly.
'She'd probably tell him off, and then ask what that wonderful smell is?' Skip said. 'It's making my mouth water.'
'That's my son,' Big Spaz said, and sighed like a defeated man. 'He should of been at work with yous, but instead he's stayed home to cook for us.' He looked meaningfully at his wife.
'I'll get him,' she said and rose from her seat. 'Say hello to your mother for me, Gordon. It's been such a long time since we've caught up and I do miss her.'
'She hasn't been out of the house for a while,' Metho said. 'Can't really get about much these days.'
'This gentrification has become a big problem,' Big Spaz said when his wife had left the room. 'Some of our biggest markets have become dead to us. But it's here we is feeling it most. Nearly everyone in Melbourne comes to Rosetown to score, but the new residents, wot do you call 'em?'
'Aspirationals?' Skip said.
'Yeah, them aspirationals. Not only do they not buy our products, but their presence seems to discourage others from buying as well. The only thing people want to score in Rosetown these days is real estate.'
'So what are we gunna do. We can't just sit around playing with ourselves while everything we've built over the years goes down the toilet,' Metho said.
'I agree, and I've been giving the matter considerable thought. I think the answer isn't all that complicated,' Big Spaz said. 'We just has to remind people why they don't wanna live in Rosetown.'
'How? It's fucken paradise and the rest of Melbourne has finally figured it out,' Metho said.
'For you and me, and the rest of your loyal Crew, this may be the case. But not everyone agrees. Or, at least they didn't agree until now.' Big Spaz said and leaned back in his chair. 'I want you to gather all the lads and go to every auction this weekend, and I don't want you to hide in the shadows. Get out there in your Sunday best, just like you is dressed now, and let all the potential buyers know just what sort of people live in our beautiful suburb.'
'For fuck's sake, what the fuck is that gunna do?'
'Trust me Gordon,' Big Spaz said, and then turned to greet the room's new occupant. 'And here is the master chef himself.'
'Don't be mean, Popy,' Little Spaz said. He was his mother's spitting image, but hid it behind a ridiculous beard.
'Nice glasses,' Tits said, and he and Skip tittered like school children.
'Don't be like that, lads,' Little Spaz said, and waved the tray he was carrying towards the three men, 'or I won't let you have any of these freshly made donuts.'
'Sorry,' Skip said, and was quickly joined in his apology by Tits. Whatever was on that tray smelt unbelievably good and they didn't want to miss out.
'Have a seat and I'll serve them out. Popy? You want one?'
'They do smell fine,' Big Spaz conceded.
'And they taste heavenly,' said a voice that bypassed the male brain and talked directly to the libido.
The three visitors to the Spazevski household turned as if mesmerized and stared at the newcomer.
'If you have any more of these, sis, you'll split your pants,' Little Spaz said.
'I hope not,' TS said, 'that would be very unladylike.'
Skip had carnal images pass before their mind's eye almost instantly. Tits, who wasn't as mentally agile, got them a moment later. 'Hi TS,' they chorused.
Big Spaz shook his head, Little Spaz turned red, and TS giggled.
'Like I said, I was expecting you to call and I has a bit of a surprise for you,' Big Spaz said. 'Tiny is joining your Crew. I've spent a fortune sending her to college, but it's time she does some real learning. That's your job, Gordon my friend, I want you to teach both my children all you can about the practical side of our business.'
Metho, who hadn't been taken in by Tiny Spaz's glamour, almost got whiplash spinning his head to face Big Spaz. 'What? But she's a girl. I mean, Little Spaz is a bit of a wuss, but we can work with that. But TS? She's a girl.'
'She'll be your best operator within a few months, believe me.'
'But, but, she a girl,' Metho repeated, in case Big Spaz was unaware of the sex of his only daughter.
'You will not be disappointed in her performance.'
Metho looked from Big Spaz to Tiny Spaz and back again. 'But, she's a girl,' he repeated.
'I said, you will not be disappointed,' Big Spaz said, and this time there was an edge to his voice.
Metho was about to point out that TS was a girl, but thought better of it when he saw Big Spaz's expression. 'Fine, oh–fucken–kay, so we'll have a fucken girl in the fucken Crew. It's not as if we fucken do anything these days anyway. But I ain't gunna look after her. She's on her fucken own, understand?'
TS giggled and came to stand beside Metho's chair. 'Thanks uncle Gordon,' she said sweetly.
'And to people who work for me, my name's fucken Metho, you got that?' Metho said angrily, and stood up. 'We better go. Got work an' that. Thanks for everything.'
Skip stood up and, because he thought himself a lady's man, he slapped TS on the backside. 'Welcome to the Crew.'
TS smiled sweetly, kneed him in the groin and then, for good measure, extended her foot to kick the still seated Tits in the head.
Metho looked, mouth agape, at his two incapacitated gang members, then turned to Little Spaz, who was trying to sneak back into the kitchen. 'Where the fuck do you think you're going, you bearded freak? Come back here and help these fuckers up. It's time to go to work.'
(iii)
Some animals retreat to their lair when they feel put upon, and Metho and his comrades were no different. Now that the Belgradia was destined to become medium density housing, they had retreated to the Plato'n'Friends cafe, which was owned by one of Tits's uncles.
'And then she kicked me for no reason,' Tit's said, as he tried to explain what had happened to his eye.
His uncle Taki—who was the intended audience for Tit's explanation—looked at the hulking brute that was his nephew, a young man with knuckles so scarred that he couldn't close his hands properly. Then he turned to TS, who was a slip of a girl with sparkly eye makeup and green and pink streaks in her hair.
'Is true what Soula says about you, then,' he said. 'You like to do what they do in that movie that has those sex games, eh? How you say in Australia language, pininda shades?'
Tits blushed crimson. 'Shutup re, she just kicked me, okay,' he said, then turned to TS for support. 'Tell him, you just kicked me for no reason.'
TS smiled a delicious
smile and shrugged.
'See, this is what I thought would happen,' Metho said, triumphantly. 'Stop fucken flirting you fuckers, we gotta think of a way to get our business back on track.'
'We're not flirtin',' Tit's said, in a hysterical voice. Again, he turned to TS for support. 'Tell him we're not flirtin'.'
Again, TS let him down with a smile.
'You wish you were flirting,' Skip said. He had chosen to sit as far away from TS as was polite and was keeping his knees close together.
'I do not wish it!' Tits exclaimed. 'She's a fucken psycho. Who the fuck wants to flirt with a fucken psycho?'
'Hey, hold on there, fellow, that's my little sister you're talking about,' Little Spaz said.
'And who's gunna stop me, four eyes?' Tits said. He didn't even notice TS's foot arcing through the air until it thudded into his ear.
Metho looked down at his unconscious henchmen, then looked at TS, who tucked an errant pink hair behind her ear.
'What?' she said. 'I didn't hit him that hard. Maybe he's got a soft head.'
Tits groaned and shook himself back into consciousness. 'So, do you believe me now?' he said to his uncle as he retook his seat.
Taki smirked. 'You young peoples today,' he said. 'You can't take one joke.'
'Would you please stop kicking my Crew in the fucken head,' Metho said to TS, then turned to Skip. 'And you, what the fuck were you thinking, slapping Big Spaz's daughter on the arse in front of Big Spaz his-self. You're fucken lucky she laid you out cos if he hadn't been laughing, you wouldn't be breathing. Now shut up, the lot of you, an' let me think. I gotta figure out what we need to do.'
Both Skip and TS looked suitably chastened.
'I was only having some fun,' TS said, doing a credible display of affronted innocence.
'Kicking someone in the head is fun?' Metho said, in an exasperated tone.
'It is in my family,' Little Spaz said, cutting in to defend his sister. 'Anyway, I thought Popy said we have to gather all the Crew and get them to intimidate buyers at auctions.'
'What? Us? Intimidate?' Skip said. 'That's not gunna work, mate. We can't even frighten a pink haired girl.'
'Tiny is a special case,' Little Spaz said, diplomatically. 'But your average person would probably find members of our group disturbing, especially if they were standing really close.'
'I dunno, it's not like we is hidden or anything when we is at work,' Metho said. 'We're right out in the open an' that, where everyone can see. If we was so intimidating, we wouldn't of ever made a sale. The druggies would be too scared to come close enough to buy anythin'.'
'Wot you talking about, re stupid,' said Taki. 'Is you an' you boys that is making everyone leave.'
The Crew all turned and stared at Taki. 'What did you say?' Metho said, with furrowed brow.
'You no hear as well as no think?' Taki said. 'People leave because of you druggies. My cousin, he selled his house last week, and if my business was not here I would go too. Bloody druggies everywhere. Fuckin' dangerous place, this one.'
'But theo, you make your business from us,' Tits said. 'How could you say such things, especially with Big Spaz's children here and everything.'
'I tell the big man his-self,' Taki said. 'I said to him when he came last week for business, I said to him it was yous that make Rosetown so cheap before. You is always walking around like you is boss of the world or something. People always want to leave but no one would buy their houses in the old days. Now stooges from outside wanna live in Rosetown, so all of them who was here before sell fast before stooges wake up and not want to live in Rosetown anymore.'
Metho took a while to figure out what Taki had said in his thick Greek accent, but when he did, his brow furrowed deeper. 'That's bullshit.'
'It's true. Our activities, while not the sole cause of Rosetown's previously undesirable status, played a considerable part in depressing property values,' Little Spaz said, 'and it's a bit of a mystery why people suddenly want to live here. But there's no doubt that existing residents of Rosetown are selling their homes in unprecedented numbers. That's why Popy wants us to get out and mingle with the auction crowds on the weekend. Just to remind people why property values were so low in Rosetown not that long ago.'
Metho took a while to figure out what Little Spaz had said in his grammatically correct, accent-free English. 'Is that so?' he said, eventually. 'Well, I reckon you're all wrong and I'm gunna prove it. We is going to give those aspirational fuckers at the auctions next week a real Rosetown experience, and I reckon it's not going to make a spit o' difference.'
'You talk all bullshit, my friend,' Taki said. 'I tells you truth, and is the truth even if you say it's bullshit. Truth is truth, my friend, it doesn't care what you think about it.'
The look in Metho's eyes spoke volumes about what he thought of Taki's truth, but he was reluctant to push the matter any further. Apart from being a giant of a man, Taki was a part of Rosetown's vast expatriate Greek community and had more relatives than Metho's limited numeracy skills could deal with.
While the Greeks spent most of their time bickering with one another about who had the most goats in the old country, they had been known to unite against the "varvari", which is what they called anyone who couldn't speak Greek. Insulting Taki would guarantee Metho a legion of garlic–scented enemies. 'You're probably right,' he said, 'but we'll see for sure this weekend.'
'So, theo,' Tits said in an effort to ease the tension between his uncle and his boss, 'can we order some baklava? A piece for everyone, except TS. We wouldn't want her to split her pants now, would we?'
Chapter 2
Taki's belligerence had cost him the Crew's business, and they now gathered at another of Tits's uncle's cafes, Socraties'n'Friends Lunch House. There were considerably more of them this time, clustered in cliques dotted around the cafe. Uncle Tasos—a short man with huge, muscular arms that were nearly as thick as Skip's torso—was busily ferrying bitter Turkish coffees and sweet Greek pastries to the dozen or so thugs who had unexpectedly descended upon his dinning establishment. He was not a happy man and yelled angrily in Greek at Tits every time he walked past.
'What the fuck's up his arse?' Metho asked, after Tasos had thrown the galaktoboureko he'd ordered onto the table and stomped away, grumbling.
'He wasn't ready for such a big crowd at lunchtime,' Tits said
'But isn't more business a good thing? I would of thought he'd be happy.'
'Nah. My uncles don't really make their money from selling food.'
'They don't?' Metho said, and looked about him. 'This is a cafe, isn't it? And it's owned by your uncle, right? How else can he use it to make money?'
'You know how the casino sort of caters to all them high rollers? Well, my uncles kind of cater to the low rollers, if you know what I mean.'
'They run illegal games in the back,' Little Spaz translated. 'And they also help my father with cash flow. He has a stake in most of the restaurants in Rosetown.'
Metho looked astounded. He was in the supply game and had little interest in other forms of criminal endeavour. 'Really? And Taki too?'
'Yeah, him too. Why do you think he was such an a-hole last week. The last thing he wanted was for us to become regulars,' Tits said.
'An' here I was thinking the Greeks were all on the straight an' narrow,' Metho said, 'except for you of course.'
'Nah, everyone on my father's side is a bit bent. My old man and Taki and Tasos used to run a delicatessen at the market when I was a kid. Always complained that the thieves made more from their shop than they did, which is why they hate crims so much. What shits mean is that all the Greeks are dodgy, right, but they all reckon they hate crims and druggies. Except me, of course.'
'What, you don't hate crims and druggies, or they don't hate you cos you is a crim and druggy?'
Tit's did a brow furrow and then took a sip of his coffee.
Metho got impatient when the silence extended beyond what he thought was reasonabl
e. 'Well, what is it?'
'What's what?'
'You know, what we was just talking about.'
'Oh,' Tits said and took another sip of his coffee.
'I think you've broken his brain,' Skip said, when Tits's silence extended again.
Another few minutes passed, and Tits spent it staring into the middle distance.
'Hey, dumb fuck, are you there?' Metho said, which was his version of expressing concern.
Tits just sat, his tiny coffee cup held in huge fingers and suspended halfway between the table and his lips. It wasn't until TS stood up suddenly—which caused Tits to instinctively bring up his hands to protect his head—that he re-joined the land of the sentient.
'What the fuck is up with you?' Skip asked.
'Just thinking about the past an' that,' Tits said, wiping coffee off his face.
'That explains it, then. Thinking's not easy for someone like you,'
'It's just that, when I was a kid I always thought I'd grow up to be one of the good guys. My dad and my uncles were always complaining about how bad the crims were, and how they wished Batman would come and clean the place up. Like in the movies an' that. They were just havin' fun with me an' my cousins an' that, but, you know, being the good guy kinda stuck in my head.'
'Yeah, but this isn't a movie,' Metho said.
'But if it was, right, we'd be the bad guys, wouldn't we? Like, Chuck Norris the Texas Ranger would be coming after us, wouldn't he? If this was a Batman film, we'd be on the Joker's side.'
'Yeah, but this isn't a fucken movie, is it, dipshit?' Metho said, a bit more harshly than he'd intended. He was a fan of Batman, especially the old television series that he used to watch with his mum on the weekends when he was a lad, and he'd been shaken by the realisation that in life, he was more Joker than Bruce Wayne. He looked about him, at all his brothers (and sister) in crime, and let out a deep sigh. More like the Penguin, actually. There was no way that the Joker would have this lot. 'Right, listen up,' he said loudly, and stood up.
The Crew, some of whom had discovered that Tasos sold his own home brewed spirits for a reasonable price, continued chatting merrily amongst themselves.