January 23, 2003

The big shakedown!
by Brent Kellogg

Still sniveling and nicely sore from the pony rides and the spankings and the happy sodomizing of the money her father provides so that she can live the life she'd never be able to afford otherwise given she doesn't have a college education which might enable her to land a meaningless minimum wage job, Victoria Newman flew back Thursday to the fetish dungeon she once shared with hunkmonkey Diego Guittierez to tell him again that if he's unwilling to give up the vendetta craze going around town, he could go do something anatomically impossible to himself.

Not at all shocked and flustered that his meal ticket was throwing in the towel for the second time in as many Genoa City days, Diego told sugar mama his mission of getting even with the demon-loving frito banditos would come to a head and burst that very night. The banditos would wreak no more havoc on drug-taking children or wannabe bag men for the mob after he, Diego crime-fighter, got done with them.

Ironically, Guittierez's plan had jelled only moments earlier at the Olive Pit where he and partner Larry 'Wartman' Warton had held a meeting with the banditos. The plan was so stupid even Warton knew it wouldn't fly but this didn't stop them from going through with it. Besides, the only thing that really mattered was that the banditos should have their livers ripped out and shoved down their throats.

Incredibly, the plan, as laid out Thursday was not at all what it was a few days ago. The original plan called for breaking into Victor Newman's office safe and making off with one million dollars in cash. There was no need for concern about security thanks to Warton's insider alarm system knowledge of a building he's never stepped foot in. Since the banditos didn't know it was all a joke it seemed perfectly logical that they would all meet later at the Newman ranch.

In a race against time, Diego sped to the ranch and told Victor how the banditos would be dead meat once the mustache had finished with them. Victor was stunned. Had this freak lost his mind? What in hell was Diego talking about? Had he really been so stupid as to bring a pair of bandits to his home? A home where his precious wife, children and grandchildren could be subjected to serious injury or worse? And what of the security guards said to be patrolling the ranch entrance? Had they already left the property to guard his daughter as he had suggested to Victoria earlier? How was slime like Diego slipping through the wire fencing when he had been told repeatedly to stay off the ranch? Had Diego not gotten the message that the great Victor Newman has so much money laying around he doesn't care that one hundred grand fell into the hands of banditos who probably purchased some of Colombia's finest cocaine and re-sold it to school kids?

And all of Genoa City should have been praying right at that very moment that their own sadly underinformed, guilt-ridden, but still sexually ravenous daughters don't make their own casual, unfortunate, heat-of-the-moment tackyroom mistakes by falling for men who have had sex with their brother's wife lest they feel the bitter rusty butter knife pressing against their last nerve.

January 23, 2003

The big shakedown

Analysis by Michael Kelly

Have your minds ever been boggled by observing and overhearing so much jaw dropping, logic defying inanity that you can barely catch your breath and haven't the slightest idea where -- or even how -- to begin describing it?

Well, that's where I'm coming from today, dear readers so please take pity on this overwhelmed, Genoa City weary correspondent!

Let's start with the harebrained heist masterminded (the "mind" part of the word is obviously used loosely!) by former coffee pourer and dung digger turned vigilante Diego Guittierez and his accomplice, ex-con turned security guard Larry Warton.

Hoping to achieve vengeance from the douche bag banditos who cracked his skull and stole the money he intended to return to his uptown girl's rich daddy, Guittierez and Warton met with Frick and Frack in the Olive Pit pub and informed them tonight was the night to clean out Victor Newman's safe.

Of course, the dipstick drifter failed to mention the time the big shakedown was to take place. Guittierez also didn't seem at all fazed by the fact the lives of all the entire family of the woman he claims to love would be endangered because the safe was located somewhere within the family's ranch!

Diego did somehow manage to cough up a floor plan of the place, but Frick and Frack barely gave it a glance. It was determined, however, that Guittierez and Warton would arrive first, miraculously disable the security system, and then the douche bags would show up in time to divide the loot "four ways."

But one of the bad-asses issued a warning that would inspire massive goose bumps and wither any cactus.

Douche Bag Bandito 1: "This better not be a set-up or we'll be out of there! You'll never see us again. Not until the day we whack the both of you!"

Of course, he didn't mention where he and his butt-buddy would whack Warton and Guittierez or what kind of "weapon" would strike the mighty "blow," (wink, wink) but this is a family newspaper so perhaps some facts are better left to the imagination!

But, lest you think they're not the kind of terrorists who care deeply about their fellow hoods, Frick and Frack cautioned Warty and manure scooper to git out of town while the gittin' was good after the million dollar heist was completed or the "heat" would be excruciating.

Never one to leave the mega-magnate who's home he's about to break into out of the loop, Diego left the Olive Pit and immediately arrived on Victor Newman's doorstep.

Before he could throw the unstable one-time stable stud off his property, Diego droned to Vic that he tracked down the boyz n' the hood who stole Newman's money.

Unimpressed, Vic huffed he was surprised to find Guittierez in one piece, to which the former saddle sore spat, "I'm alive, but they may not be after you're through with them!"

Understandably, Newman wondered what the hell this dickhead was talking about, but all the bunkhouse boy could babble was, "They're coming here today!"

Well isn't that special?

When Guittierez is finished flapping his gums about how he arranged for two low-lives to invade the Newman premises and place the entire family in jeopardy, but he expects Vic to save the day by doing his dirty work for him, it would serve this shiftless, oxygen and testosterone deprived scumbag right if Newman ripped the metal plate out of his otherwise empty head and shoved it down Guittierez's sorry gullet.

January 13, 2003

Victor Newman - drug dealer?
by Molly Media & Lois Hill

In his best Ken Lay voice, Warton theorized, "If you can avoid the tax man your profit goes way up."

And mostly because they were trying to be like bizarre hateful little cult-like brickheads turned on by things that are dank and musky and deep fried, Diego blabbed how Victor has a safe with a big wad of money inside.

Again, the banditos knew better. Even if Newman is a drug dealer it is highly unlikely he'd ever let Diego see it.

Unwilling to drop the facade, Diego made a brilliant deduction. "The safe is locked," he said, trying not to laugh and adding that Warton has the inside track on Newman security and would be able to get them into the building, past security, past the always in the potty snorting coke secretary and deep into Newman's lair.

Assuming everything went like the Brink's robbery, they'd be in an out in a flash and split the money four ways. In addition, the banditos would promise never to go near the Guittierez brothers again, their hos or sissy buds.

A queasy feeling deep in their guts, the banditos said they'd have to sleep on the bad idea of ripping Newman off. There were some serious omissions that might come to them during the night. Like, why bother with a safe when they could just wait for Diego to go strolling down the street carrying another 100-thousand in a duffel bag? And why doesn't a man like Newman insist his bag man drive a fancy car? Hadn't Newman ever seen the movie Casino?

At any rate, the banditos said they would contact Diego at the Lakeside Motel, aptly named because of its location nowhere near a lake, with their final answer.

And just to be sure the banditos knew they are dealing with some bad-ass dudes, Diego warned that he had been caught off guard that night outside the Newman coffee house, but it wouldn't happen again. And to prove that Diego is truly a vile tyrant, Warton let it be known that Diego has "backup" all over the city and that's why they're offering to cut a deal with two small-time hoods.

Just where in the hell is the sense in all this? Unless the absurdity, the outrage, quite simply to be wholly annoyed by the stupidity, leads to imminent gobs of heaping death raining down upon Diego Guittierez, there isn't any.

January 10, 2003

The smell of death

You're a Frito bandito. You and your partner in crime have just finished terrorizing the local Guittierez brothers, left your fingerprints all over the shack where you held everyone at gunpoint, didn't bother to wear a mask so that you could be easily identified, committed the crimes of kidnapping, assault and battery and a laundry list of other crimes during which you used a firearm.

Now, what do you do?

Go to the local Olive Pit bar for drinks!

Meantime, his fetish for licking sweat from the thighs of the heavily narcotized banditos eating away at him, Diego Guittierez, thumping his chest and yodeling "I'm going to get those punks," enlisted the support Friday of ex-con Larry 'Wartman' Warton even though his dimwitted brother had warned earlier, "there may be a cemetery plot in your future."

"I'm not going to let these punks get away with this," Diego ranted as the Wartman stood by yammering, "The smart thing to do with psychos like this is to let it go."

Their collective heads spinning, Warton suddenly recalled having seen one of the banditos in prison, and, coincidentally, he just happened to recall seeing the bad dude at a watering hole he frequents on those rare occasions when Neil Winters isn't barfing all over the bar babes.

"We might find him there," an excited Wartman said and then recalled, oops, my five years of probation is running concurrently so I better not get involved in any crime busting.

And like bank robbers who think they aren't doing anything wrong because banks are insured by the FDIC, Diego promised, "We won't do anything illegal." Let's roll!

Because they are just that sneaky and uptight and in desperate need of a smack upside the head, Warton and Guittierez went immediately to the Olive Pit bar where they ordered $5 cups of coffee and went over Diego's elaborate plan.

Realizing the plan was more complicated than taking out Saddam, Diego had second thoughts. Perhaps they should let the professionals catch the bad guys. Nah, that would never do. The Genoa City Police has a certain reputation for bungling even the simplest case. But, on third thought, they could call the cops just as their trap is sprung. Granted, their plan would require innovation, but hey, they be smart like a fox. Plus, with Victor Newman helping nothing could go wrong.

The name Newman rattled around in Warton's pea brain for a moment. "Is Newman really in on this?" he asked.

Before Guittierez could lie and say he had not been warned earlier that Newman had told him that going after the bad guys was a dumb idea and that he could end up very dead, the banditos just happened into the bar and did not see, until it was too late, their earlier victims sitting nearby or when they each were accosted by the Starsky & Hutch wannabes.

It wasn't, however, a total bust. Diego and the Wartman wanted to play Let's Make A Deal with the banditos! Sure, the Wartman could have whipped out his handy-dandy Dick Tracy watch and called the cops, but that would have taken all the stupidly out of whatever it was they were doing.

Then again, by going through these desperate moments, Diego wouldn't die and would get to live another day to open a chain of strip club/laundromats/meth labs in the greater Genoa City area with the reward money Victor would almost certainly hand over so that Diego would have a way of supporting Victoria Newman and they'd live happily ever after.

January 7, 2003

Riding with Osama gang strikes again!
by Brent Kellogg

Make a very tiny bit of space in your mental file cabinet for this completely inessential but vaguely sad little story.

In all the time Diego Guittierez has had to think about the thugs who bashed him in the head and made off with $100,000 of Victor Newman's money, of which the great man has had no concern, it was only Tuesday as he lay in bed with the frightening looking Victoria Newman, that Diego had a chance to reminisce.

More important then the money, those dirty little rotten thugs humiliated Diego and for that, by God, they shall pay.

The earth trembled and winced as Diego made his way to the coffee shop by day, club for all ages by night, where he knew ex-con Larry 'Wartman' Warton would be hanging out.

"Have you heard anything on the street about the thugs who humiliated me?" Diego asked fully aware that the Wartman keeps his ear to the ground in the event his energies are needed to counter the Dark Forces.

Further humiliating himself, Diego told Warton how the dastardly bad guys took the money he had been given to leave town and Warton did not think, wow, maybe he should do whatever Diego did to be given such a large chunk of change. It sure beats frivolous sexual harassment suits.

"I want to see them get what they deserve," Diego said of the punks hoping a hint of patriotism and vengeance might be easier for the Wartman to understand.

"Did they have a gun?" Warton asked which of course had zero impact and zero real meaning except to explain the hole in Diego's head.

Sadly, Warton said he hasn't been in touch with the underworld in a coon's age, but was aware that scum is out there terrorizing the American public and he even met some in prison.

"They aren't the sharpest tools in the shed," Warton chuckled and again did not say that the thugs are, apparently, sharper than Diego.

Adding to the already absurd conversation, Warton shed some sort of light on something, somehow, though nobody knows quite sure what, when he surmised that the evildoers had already spent the money, but that it was all, well, sort of, dependent on what else was in Diego's duffel bag on that fateful night.

"Odd and ends." was Diego's reply. No motel receipts either.

Say! Why would Warton be asking about receipts? He wouldn't be trying to string a plot together - would he?

But of course, this was the plan. A motel receipt would automatically tips the thugs off that Diego is a drug dealer. And where there are drug dealers there is lots of money and no Glocks. Sit tight Diego. Don't go looking for the Osama wannabes; they'll come looking for you!

Unfortunately, perhaps the cleverest, sharp as a tack conversation in Genoa City history could not continue because Warton has become so in demand as a part-time mechanic for the filthy-rich Katherine Sterling he must wear a beeper and it was going off.

With a sad admixture of utilitarian appreciation and utter shivering dread, it turned out that indeed the creepy crawlers had been pawing through Diego's duffel bag and there, at the very bottom, was a motel receipt.

This explained why, coincidentally, the When You Ride with Osama You Ride Alone bandits were knocking on the shack of Raul Guittierez and Brittany Hodges demanding the return of something belonging to them. And it wasn't the red negligee Brittany had ripped off from Victoria's Secret.

The bizarre little wack-headed prognosticating freak show put on by Guittierez and Warton thus added to life's overall load of utter misery, but such is life in Genoa City.

January 3, 2003

The final insult
by Lois Hill