The sun was shining, and the air was calm, over all it was a very pleasant day. So you might wonder why I was standing in a grave yard, pissing on a head stone.
It's ok; it is my wife's headstone.
My name is Vinnie Pergolizzi and I'm a mob boss.
I tried to trace the letters of her name, but my bladder ran out first. Marlene Pergolizzi is a long name and I'm getting older. Lower capacity you know.
I looked at the stone, it was a double. It was designed for a husband and wife to rest in peace together for eternity, or at least until some builder wanted to put a development on this land. I knew I'd never join her there. To be exact, my side said, "I will not lie next to a Slut," under the "Husband" banner.
Her side said, "She took the easy was out-Suicide", beside the birth and death dates.
You should have heard the complaints from the committee that oversaw this grave yard. They bitched and moaned about the inscriptions as "Not being fitting for their Community."
Well I'm a really nasty bastard and they didn't stand a chance. After "my boys" talked to a few members, all but one woman agreed to the inscription.
Now that woman was a fat old bitch. She had a little money, and thought she ruled the world. I had some "friends" break both her legs.
While she was recovering in the hospital, her house burnt down, twice because the damn fire department reacted a little too quickly the first time. The second time the department was reacting to a false alarm across town when her house started again.
This time they were only able to save the basement.
Yep, I told you I was a bastard.
She moved out of state, permanently.
Looking at the date, I realized that Marlene had been here about 6 years now. I examined my heart and found I still hated her. Well she did piss me off. She died before I could make her suffer for breaking my heart.
Ok, I've got a little free time, so I'll go back and tell you all about it.
I grew up in a rough neighborhood. A neighborhood where you either joined a gang or you got the shit beat out of you daily. I wasn't exactly stupid, I joined a gang. These gangs were ethnic; the one I joined was Italian just like I was.
I graduated from high school, and went to the local community college. Believe me that was an accomplishment for my neighborhood. The local "godfather" invited me to join his society because I had finished college. It was an invitation one didn't turn down.
My life in crime was set in cement from that point on.
I met my late wife about five years later. I was running a successful new car dealership. Did you ever notice that mob operated businesses were always successful. Some of them never seemed to do any business, but always had cash. The other businesses had no completion, figures.
I had a new car dealership that only had competition from other mob owned businesses, like I said, "No real competition."
I met Marlene on a trip I took to Las Vegas. It was an auto dealer's convention and I was going there just for fun. She was a cocktail waitress there.
We both had things the other liked at first sight. I had lots of money and was spending like a drunken sailor, and she had great tits. Well actually she had a lot more going for her, but I'm a guy and guess what I noticed first, the second thing I liked about her I saw when she turned around and walked away.
OK, so she had a great ass too.
She came up to our table and asked, "Can I take you order?"
I, of course, had a million pickup lines in my head; I opted for, "Yes."
One of the other guys at the table ordered a bottle of Jack Daniel's and six glasses.
She counted five of us and asked," Who's the sixth one for? Expecting someone else?"
"You darling, of course." The bastard replied.
She gave him a big smile and giggled. "Can I have the rest of your orders, please?"
And that's how the evening went. My buddy was scoring big time and I was putting my foot in my mouth at every opportunity.
She went off shift at midnight. The guys hit their rooms, and I went into the diner for a late night snack.
I picked one with a buffet and was standing there trying to make up my mind when I heard, "Why can't you make up your mind? You did fine in the lounge."
I spun around to give whoever it was a piece of my mind when I looked into a million watt smile. Our waitress from the lounge was standing next to me.
She said, "The foods really good here. Let me help you choose. Oh and by the way, my name's Marlene."
We ate together and talked. Boy did we talk! It was 4:00 am when we left. She asked, "Can we meet for a snack tomorrow night?" And we did, every night for the next four nights. It would have been longer but I had a flight out.
Two weeks later, I was back and we had continued our late night snacks. At the end of the first week we had breakfast in bed also before going back to sleep. We needed the rest.
By the time I was there for a week, she agreed to home with me on a trial basis. Our trial basis lasted about 18 months before we married in a civil ceremony. We didn't want our daughter to be born out of wedlock.
Three years later our son was born. I was complete. I had a beautiful wife and two great kids and I was moving up in the crime organization. My car dealership was doing nicely, but my piece of the organization was really bringing in the bucks. Crime really does pay if you are smart enough not to get caught.
I was very smart.
The years went by, both my kids were in high school and my wife was a stay at home mom, trying to spend all my money at the local malls. Things were going great until I went to lunch with some of my friends in the family.
Now I don't want to upset you. The lunch went off without a hitch. We talked business (in code) and had a great meal. The unpleasantness happened when I was getting in my car to go back to the dealership. There was a large manila envelope lying on my passenger seat. My name was on the outside.
For some reason I knew I shouldn't open it until I got back to my office. The paper shredder was there. It might be information about the "organization" that I would read once and destroy.
When I opened the envelope in my office, I got the shock of my life. There were 8x10 photos of my wife having sex with other men. That's right, "other men". They were not gang bang photos, but my lovely wife having one-on-one sex with six different men. Each photo appeared to be taken in different bedrooms, each with a different man.
There was a typewritten report also in the envelope. The report stated that my wife was part of a group that met and changed partners one or two times a week. The report went on to say that none of the participants were married to any of the others in the group. The report listed names, address, spouses, number of children, motel room numbers, and dates the "meetings" took place.
I had enough information for any good divorce lawyer to ply his trade. The only problem is that in my line of business, divorces caused "lose of face." If man in my field of work (and I didn't mean the car dealership) couldn't control his wife it was thought he was too weak to control his territory.
The wives of most of my associates understood the score. When asked if they'd cheat, most replied, "Not on your life, my husband would kill me."
And they meant exactly that.
It appeared that my stupid wife didn't understand that.
Well I guess it's time to teach her a lesson.
My first thought was just to have them all disappear, but then I realized that 12 individuals vanishing all at once just had to raise suspicion with the police. And when the cops figured out that one of the "disappearances" was my wife, the shit would hit the fan. So I couldn't take the easy way out.
So I started my planning. The first thing I needed to know was exactly what the extent of the problem was and spread the word that I knew it was happening and was in the process of retribution. I then let it be known why I just didn't whack them.
Before Marlene screwed over me, I got along with the local cops and the county sheriffs. I tried to make sure that any of my enterprises did not cause them any extra work. They appreciated the thoughtfulness.
If their personal vehicle broke down on the street, I'd send out a tow truck from my dealership, to help if possible or tow them where ever they wanted. If the car broke down on their wife or girlfriend, my tow operators would bring them back to the dealership and let them use one of our loaners.
If they asked, we would repair the car. The towing and the loaner were part of our service and not charged to the police officer. If their car need repair, the labor was free and the parts were at my cost. I also offered installment payments if the repairs proved too costly for the officer.
If the officer dropped his car off for routine service (oil changes, tire changes, and such). We washed and waxed the vehicle and detailed the interior. I think that little courtesy made us the most friends on the force.
When it came time for a police officer to need a new personal vehicle, I gave them the vehicle at my cost whether it was new or used. I also carried the financing for them at zero interest.
If they brought in their patrol car, we'd clean that too. You'd be surprised how often drunks vomited in the back or scared kids lost bladder control when handcuffed and put in the back seat.
One day I was challenged by a pesky newspaper reporter about these business practices and asked if it wasn't just a bribe. I replied," These individuals works 24/7 protecting us from criminals, most people take their efforts for granted. I don't! I can afford to help them when they need it."
'Someday you or I might need their help", I said. "I'd like to make sure that nothing was distracting them from helping us."
The newspaper dropped the story.
A few weeks later, the reporter's wife had a flat while taking their kids to school. It was a rainy, nasty day. One of my tow truck drivers stopped to offer assistance. With the wife and two kids squeezed into the front of his tow truck he took off to get the kids to school on time. Then with the wife in the cab, he towed the car back to the dealership. While he was getting the flat fixed, a couple of the female employees took the wife under their wing got her some dry clothes and hot coffee.
When her car was ready, the flat was repaired, the car was washed and waxed, the interior was cleaned and since the oil change was due, they changed that too. The total bill for all this work was $10.00. The cost normally charged for fixing a flat.
A couple of days later the reporter called me, "I'd like to say thanks to your guys for what they did for my wife. Can you have them meet with me in your lunchroom tomorrow?"
The next day, my guys walked into a feast set up in their lunchroom.
That's how I became friends with so many people.
Over the next few months, I began to hear all about this little "love" group. The information came in about whom they were, where they were meeting, the times of their various sessions, and how it started.
The guy who arranged it all was named Larry Stocks. About one year ago he got to one of my wife's girlfriends (Judy). It was rumored he slipped her a drug or two and banged her for an entire weekend. Her husband thought she was visiting a sick aunt in another city.
By the time the weekend was over, she was hooked on his "larger than her husband's" cock and some of the drugs.
They then started meeting in a motel once a week. Larry was a predator. One woman was not enough for him. He soon had her getting some of her girlfriends to join them.
Judy would do whatever he asked, just to keep getting him to fuck her and supply her habit.
They soon started having threesomes. Not Larry, Judy and one of her girlfriends, but one of his male friends. She was their personal slut.
The group soon consisted of six men and six women, my loving wife being one of the members.
Larry soon got the women hooked on hard drugs. To support their habits, they became Larry's girls. He made sure that they all had "customers" for their charms. Larry kept them working a few afternoons a week, and their habits under his control. He made sure they only got high after servicing one of his friends. He made sure that they weren't stoned out of their minds when they went home, only a little high.
This was a very delicate balancing act.
I put all my notes together and formulated a plan.
My first step was to get Larry infected. With my connections, it was easy to find a "crack whore" who had AIDS. She was 18 years old and still had her looks. She was told that if she hooked up with Larry and made him think she was just an innocent little girl, her "junk" would be free.
With that kind of an incentive, she was having sex with Larry a three or four times a week. Larry being Larry attempted to get her hooked on cocaine. We had to regulate her doses from us so that she didn't overdose.
As smart as I thought I was, I really didn't know if 'my crack whore' infected Larry or not. With my luck, the bastard would not get the disease. So I changed my tactics.
It didn't take long to discover his drug supplier, and with that my plan was in force. We would substitute his regular bag with a special mix.
I put out the word that I wanted a lab tech that could take blood and administer a shot, all without leaving much of a trace.
I met with the tech and explained what I wanted. I would arrange for a sleep drug to be mixed with the heroin they used.
Once the drug mixture worked, I wanted the tech to draw enough blood out of the needle mark Larry used to inject himself in, and use the hole for the blood test for aids.
I explained to the tech that, "We didn't need to test the girl. She was already infected with AIDS.
The tech did her job perfectly. When she brought me the vials of blood she commented, "If the test comes back negative let me know. I can arrange to get some live virus and we'll infect him directly.
The test came back positive. I had him. The next part was both easy and hard. The easy part was waiting a few months so that they could pass the bug amongst themselves (they used condoms with their customers. I guess they did want to take a chance on catching something, if only they knew.) The hard part was also the waiting. I knew I couldn't have any contact with Marlene. I didn't want to catch the "bug" myself. I'd been to my doctor and he had tested me for STDs. I was clean. I thought about the innocent spouses catching the bug. To be exact I thought about it for about 10 seconds, and then I figured, "Fuck 'me. They'd get what they deserved.
For the next two months, I had headaches, stomach flu, a pulled back muscles, etc., anything that would keep me away from her. My kids were both teenagers and had the minimum physical contact with her. I even hired a cook/house keeper, not only did that keep Marlene from touching our stuff, but fit in with my long term plans for getting even with Marlene.
Finally the night to extract my revenge on Larry arrived. He was in a cheap motel, screwing my wife's best girlfriend, Judy, the one that introduced Marlene to this lifestyle.
Larry was on top rapidly approaching his climax when the sliding glass door to the ground floor motel room exploded in. Two masked men entered. They used a shotgun on Larry. He was blown off his bedmate when the blast hit him in the head. She wasn't that lucky. A couple of the pellets entered through her eye and started a hemorrhage in her brain. She died on the way to the hospital.
That was too bad, I wanted Judy to suffer longer.
The masked gun men then tossed a bag of counterfeit $100 bills into the room and left a couple of heroin bags on the dresser.
The plan was to hope the police figured the shooting was a drug deal gone wrong. The killings made the news for the next three days. All the news organizations put it together, that the murder victims paid for their drugs with counterfeit money. And the dealers found out and returned to the motel room to extract revenge. That was exactly what I had planned.
I watched my wife going through withdrawal for the next week. She tried to keep us from noticing, claiming she caught the flu from me.
I loved it.
One night about a week later the news announced that Larry's autopsy revealed he had AIDS.
A few days later I got the call, Marlene had gone to the free clinic to be tested.
It was time to put phase two of my plan into effect.+++++++ I watched my wife walking around the house for the next couple of weeks. I could tell that her world was coming down around her.
I was enjoying the shit out of that.
I played the loving husband. "Are you feeling ok? Is anything bothering you, Honey?"
And of course the killer, "Would you like to make love tonight?" Rubbing it in felt really good. (I wonder what I would have done if she said yes? Probably another "back ache" I guessed.) On night after dinner, Marlene asked if we could talk. I knew what was coming so I asked her if the talk could wait for the weekend when both kids would be out of the house.
I wanted to make her squirm for a few more days.
Saturday finally arrived. Marlene had the cook prepare one of my favorite meals. She even made sure I had a couple of glasses of wine to mellow me out.
It didn't work; I was too keyed up with my surprise for her.
Marlene took me into the family room and started her discussion by telling me how much she loved me and how great the last 20 years were. While she was talking, I opened the briefcase I had placed by my chair.
The first thing I did was flip an 8x10 photo of Larry fucking her on the floor of a cheap motel room in front of her. Her face went white and she said. "I can explain. It was only the one time and he forced me."
I flipped another picture of her and Larry. This time she was on all fours, and he was in her ass. She just stared at the picture. I started flipping more and more of the 8x10's. She realized I must know everything.
I then flipped some more photos at her. These were taken by the police at the scene of the double homicide. She looked at the bloody remains of her lover and her friend Judy, and passed out.
I got up and made myself a fresh drink.
I dumped the contents of the ice bucket on her prostrate form. She awoke with a start and began crying.
I grabbed her by the hair and slapped the shit out of her.
"No more lies and bullshit", I said. "I don't want any explanations from you. You're a lying piece of shit."
I then said, "No divorce. I am too important for it to get out that I couldn't control my own wife. You will move all your things into the garage apartment, now. You will no longer live in this house."
"If you think that you can escape me, don't even think about",
"I'll have you hunted down and killed, just like I did Larry and Judy" I admitted.
"Only for you it will be slowly", I pointed out, smiling all the time.
She started looking very scared.
I tossed the "Living with AIDS" booklet in front of her and said, "This is how you will live your life from now on. In the apartment you will find Orange Bio Hazard plastic bags. You will place any item you touched and want to toss out, in these bags. You will take these bags to the AIDS clinic when they are full and you are getting your treatments..."
"If you fuck up or give me any back talk, I will have one of your "friends" killed, slowly." I told her.
I told her that both our kids were told what she did and what she caught. "They elected to attend a boarding school instead of living here with you." I told her. "They were afraid you might infect them."
"Your good life is over," I informed her. "You fucked it up. From now on I'm going to make it hell"
For the next year I made her life a living hell. I sold her car, all her jewelry, all her fancy clothes, and anything she really liked. I even took her little dog to the vet and had it put down. I told her that I thought the dog was infected and didn't want anything around that might infect me.
I even went so far as to kill a couple of her friends, and tell her that they died because of some little thing she did. Well actually I didn't do the deed, but some friends of mine did. The important part was that they died hard and my wife knew why.
All remaining members of the "sex circle" were visited by the Health Department. Their spouses and bed mates were informed and tested. The divorce rate around here really went up that year.
As a side note, one of the spouses tested positive for another STD. She caught the "clap" from her boyfriend, who she was cheating with behind her unfaithful husband's back. This little revelation created another flurry of divorces.
One evening I drugged Marlene's meal. When she woke up the next afternoon, she had a tattoo across her stomach. It read, "BIO Hazard, Fuck at your own risk."
I guess I pushed her a little too hard.
One day I came into her apartment and found her hanging from a ceiling fan. She had looped a cord from one of the blinds over the fan and then around her neck. The fan wasn't mounted high enough to break her neck when she kicked the chair away.
She had strangled to death, a very hard way to go.
The cops were curious about her living in the apartment until I told them it was her request. She had AIDS and didn't want to contaminate anyone.
After the autopsy, the doctor confirmed that the AIDS in her system was regressing. The treatments she was on were working.
It's ironic isn't it? She killed herself to end her suffering. The suffering I was causing.
The kids and I had a very private burial.
The kids didn't miss her. They had moved on with their lives.
I was the only one who felt any regret that she was dead. She had figured out a way to keep me from making her life any more miserable.
Yeah I know I'm a bastard. But my actions have moved me up in the crime family. I am now number 2. My treatment of my wife's infidelity added to my reputation as being a tough guy.
I still visit my wife's grave a couple of times a year, but I still haven't managed a permanent stain on her stone yet...
Marlene's Story The pain in my neck was terrible. The thin rope just kept getting tighter and tighter. I tried to get my fingers between the rope and my neck, but I just couldn't quite make it.
My heart was pounding, and my feet were kicking out, looking for something to stand on. It was becoming harder and harder to get a breath.
I suddenly didn't want to die anymore. I tried to call out to God to save me, but nothing came out. The rope was too tight.
Suddenly my life started to repeat before me. I could see all the previous year's rolling by.
I was born in the mid-west to a pair of party animals. At least that's what I thought until I got to high school. I realized then that they were just common ordinary drunks. They got drunk every day and usually passed out in the living room. Our family income came from Welfare; most of it was because of me living with them.
They were always kind to me, I was their meal ticket.
I stayed with them until I graduated from High School. I was not smart enough to go to college even if the money to pay the way had been there. I grabbed the last Welfare check from my parents, and took off west.
I lost my cherry when I was 15. I really liked sex. I soon found that if I spread my legs all the boys said, "They loved me."
I got the love I never got at home as a kid, and the boys got laid. It was a "win-win" for all involved.
As I neared graduation, I woke up knowing the boys didn't really love me, they only wanted sex.
My reputation and my parent's drunkenness made up my mind to leave town after graduation.