Why not? a west village ramble

This is fiction. It is not strictly fantasy, but rather a form of funny farce.
If you enjoy west village ramble, why not donate a dollar to the forge?
The valanga di vita is 100% greedy and our charitable mission is a complete fraud. We will definitely waste your money on doritoes and stuff like that, and never share any. Kidding!

It was nigh on christmas eve and the NYPD were frustrated. They had been unable to find the infant jesus, though Herod had promised them all of Bankmanfried's forfeitures, including the beachfront property in Bahama. they were under direct orders to raid somebody by the end of the year, so, they had to content themselves with knocking on chickabidee's door at three am. This is a raid, they shouted, cough up the codes to the secret punjabi peanut butter jar accounts!
chickabiddy was uncharateristically dour, since the young turks had taken a hit when Sammy tanked.
WHy dont you ask milk dud, she's the one been hobbnobbing with Marlinspike out in the grand caymans. Sounds like you're a bit jelly, the flatfoot observed. And you're not, shot back chickabiddy. I wanted an island myself sheesh. I mean zuck got an island why not me? I went to harvard didnt I? wt fugazzi???
THe feds clattered down to Joes pizza where dud could oft be found enjoying a late night slice while regaling babs on the finer points of Wittgenstein.
You're out your tree, babs shook her head. I mean you rounded the bend. i just wanted the townhouse it's close to mega bus, hollister and the fruit cart! dud whined. The feds burst in suddenly. Nobody move, they shouted.

Down the block, babs' erstwhile co host Mr Wonderful O'leary was stuffing his face with fine chocolates at Venchis, heedless of the one thin dime vagabonds begging for a thin mint just outside the door.
More chocolates? said the waiter. Whine not? Oleary was in an expansive mood as his panza expanded joyfully over his cintura.
You dirty capitalist shouted chickabiddy from the balcony. He picked up a spatula from the hipster kabuli grill. Care for a cadeux du chocolate said Oleary cordially. Dont mind if I do, siad Chickabiddy
Sammy had actually slipped his zip ties in Grand bahama and was hiding in the toilet at Murrays' cheese factory when oleary called him. Sam, get out of there, the feds are all over this place, Kevin said in a husky whisper. No worries, old chum, said Sam, my aunt is gonna cash in at work on the next covid wave and we'll trade in the bahamas crib on one in Cyprus.

So, said the feds to dud, where are teh codes? What codes? The nukular codes, they said, referencing an old Dubya dialect featured in certain spoof videos with John kerry.
I never copied those, I copied some code pen animations,dud chomped on a rogue anchovie that had gotten burned in teh woodfired oven.
Why dont you shake down blankenfiddle and give me back my loft with the river views?.Neocities.

I mean far be it from me to question the government's methods, but when sacbatani is sitting pretty on the yuck yacht and Im scrounging for blueberries in the bargain bin, it just doesn't add up.

Ok, said one flatfoot to the other i'ts christmas eve, what say we go down to fifth avenue and take in the sights.
I want to tell santa my wish list.
as they approached, the flatfoot sat on Santas knee. So what do you want for christmas, you oversized BOI.
I want to get Sactabatni so we can all go home, said the fed. "MERRY CHRISTMAS!santa yowled, removing his cap to reveal the face of baloney billionaire Ramalamadingdong Sacbatani.

The feds were sick of doing everything by the book which is a pain in the buzzo and here by "the book" we don't mean the book of Kells, thats for dang sure. So they skipped due process and stuffed her in a pretrial holding cell at 1PP reserved for milk dud robbers like Harvey Weinstein.
O GAWD dud groaned, of all the gin joints in maroque do I have to end up with MR @METOO?
You dont have any dirt on billy or barry do you? Otherwise I'll have to ask you to remove that $5000 valentine cravat.

in a sprawling mansion in old westbury, sacbatani's new york accountant was punching in the last figures into the quickbooks like some horseshoe road ebenezer scrooge.

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