Victor Newman archives
See Also: Nick Newman Sharon Newman Ashley Abbott Brad Carlton Victoria Newman Nikki Newman Victor 2002
Newman didn't notice
daughter missing on Christmas Eve?
December 30, 2003
With plans to
launch an immediate search for his missing daughter, Newman Enterprises giant Victor
Newman said Tuesday he will find Victoria Newman and was completely unaware that she
wasn't gathered with other family members on the night before Christmas.
"Things
have been so chaotic around here I forgot to tell him," said a querulous Nikki
Newman, adding, "Christmas Eve was full of tension. We're not even a family
anymore."
Given the fuss
he made last year when Ms Newman refused to spend Christmas with the family it made no
sense that Mr. Newman wouldn't notice his daughter wasn't around on one of the most
important days of the year and shouldn't have had to been told.
Desirous of
removing his rebellious son from behind the empire helm as soon as possible Newman said
that regardless of his wife's objection or Ms Newman's wish not to be found, he will find
his daughter and install her as new Newman CEO.
How Newman
hopes to accomplish this goal remains to be seen considering he's out on bail with orders
not to leave the jurisdiction and the city's only private investigator is busy training
local hunkmonkey's how to play PI.
Miserable, old
man left alone to die
November 21, 2003
Air
traffic controllers have confirmed that the Newman jet is gassed up and ready to leave
Toronto, Canada for the return trip to Genoa City following Victor Newman's mostly
pointless meeting with his dying father, Albert Miller.
Newman is expected to leave the cantankerous old man alone to die in his own misery now
that he's reached the conclusion that Miller is "a miserable, insensitive excuse for
a human being."
The sour reunion - the first the two men have had in fifty years - failed to solve
anything. Miller made no bones about the fact that the world has made him a heartless
uncaring father. It may have been sexually pleasing to have produced children, but once
born he wanted nothing to do with kids.
Big men like Miller expect their children to be strong, to grow up without parents and
accept estrangement as part of the American way. Yes, it sounds nice to say that people
are kind and good and compassionate. But given the opportunity, these same people are the
first to shove knives deep into the backs of those they love.
Like the bank or the credit card company that says how much a part of the
"family" its customers are, but the first time a loan payment is missed credit
is ruined and liens are filed.
Looking deep into his father eyes Newman said he saw a man surrounded by a wall of hate
repulsing anyone trying to penetrate, unable to show real love, thriving on wealth and
power, dying alone with nobody to care.
It was a sight Newman said he will never become. Because - unlike his father - Newman
claims to be a highly religious man who thanks the "gods" for giving him a
loving son who wants his daddy to go to prison, a loving daughter who slapped her daddy
across the face and a loving wife who has been married to more men than pharmaceutical
companies have pills.
Plot to murder
tycoon
by Brent Kellogg
September 22, 2003
Speculation
mounts that an attempt on Victor Newman's life is imminent after it was suggested Monday
that Genoa City's most powerful man hire a bodyguard.
As
news spread - that Newman is at fault for the death of Ashley Carlton's unborn son - the
list of persons with reason to seek revenge grew.
At the top of the list is Mrs. Carlton's current husband, Brad. Unwilling to accept that
his wife caused her own tragedy, Mr. Carlton has repeatedly made direct threats on
Newman's life and made no bones about it last week when he said he would "get"
Newman.
Newman's
son, Nick, is the second most likely assassin. Still harboring resentment for his wife's
indiscretion, young Newman blames his father for allowing Sharon Newman to stick her
tongue down his throat. And when the toxic cosmetic product Safra out performed the
competition, Newman blamed his father for illegally influencing sales. Without a shred of
evidence, Newman also jumped on the hate Victor Newman bandwagon when members of the
Abbott family said his father made their loved one do stupid things.
Other suspects include Ashley Carlton who at any moment could realize that one way to
prevent Victor Newman from finding out she stole his sperm and had his baby is to kill
him. Jack Abbott has also threatened that Newman "will pay" for causing his
sister to lose her baby. But considering Abbott is all talk and no action his threats are
considered harmless.
Perhaps the most hated man in Genoa City, Victor Newman has so far laughed at the notion
that anyone would actually try to do him physical harm. Even when old man John Abbott
cleaned his clock and warned him to stay away from Mrs. Carlton, other than being shocked
that a man in his 70's had the guts to smack him, Newman brushed himself off and went
straight to Carlton's hospital room to visit her. Therein may be Newman's downfall.
The least likely of suspects is often the one who committed the crime. A crime that in all
likelihood will take place next month at the Arts Society annual gala when the rumor that
a long-time resident of this fair city is going down for the final count may become a
reality.
Newman absolved
of guilt
September 16, 2003
Ignoring
instructions by the Abbott family to stay away from their "beauty" Victor Newman
strolled into the God Have Mercy Medical Center on Tuesday to offer sperm thief Ashley
Carlton his condolences and to say how badly he feels being the butt of another Abbott
witch hunt.
Recovering from an auto accident and the death of her unborn baby, Carlton was asked if
she blames Newman for the stupid actions she took resulting in the death of an innocent
child. "You're absolved of all guilt" she said, noting too that a gun wasn't
pointed at her head and there is nobody to blame but herself.
As Newman repeated that he regrets what has happened Carlton's creepy looking sucked-in
cheeks quivered before the words rolled over her lying lips, "Why are you here?"
she droned, and lightning, surprisingly, did not strike her dead on the spot.
Out of respect for the brain dead Newman did not crank up the morphine drip or ask,
"Did you not hear a single word I said? I came here to say I'm sorry and said it in
so many dialects surely you must have understood one of them."
On the good chance that the gaping maw of hell itself would open up to swallow him whole,
Newman said it again. If he was in any way responsible for "whatever part" he
may have played in Carlton's display of stupidity, he sincerely apologized.
To prove that there are little screaming demons running around in her tiny semi-articulate
oxygen-starved brain, Carlton spewed, "If I say I accept your apology will you
leave?"
The bile backing up in her throat caused the disgustingly stinking rich vulgar bitch's
blood pressure to elevate so before Newman could leave Carlton laid another guilt trip on
him. "I'll never have another child," she whimpered.
Instead of asking the wench, "Did you ever think that maybe God is paying you back
for killing two babies? Shouldn't you be thankful that you have a healthy baby girl whom
you pretty much ignore and who spends so much time with the sitter she thinks the woman is
her mother? Why must you always be filled with doom and gloom?" Newman fell straight
into the trap.
"I'm so sorry about what I've done to you," the great man mumbled, and then went
away to maybe think about killing himself.
Papa Newman moves his
bag
by Lois Hill
May 28, 2003
A macho leader of the free business world in Wisconsin who would
crush the skull of a gay man who accidentally flirted with him in a bar, the great Victor
Newman has in recent days had his black punching bag - as opposed to the white one he
keeps penned up at the sprawling Newman ranch - moved from the 35th floor of his penthouse
where it was last used to sexually stimulate the very crazy house guest, Tricia Dennison
McNeil.
Having given up working out since Dennison drugged and seduced him and had him arrested
for rape, Newman must have taken notice of his withering flab recently when he had to
resort to kicking one of the Frito Banditos in the testicles. Accordingly, Newman has
returned to mating with his old punching bag which hangs again inside the ranch tackyroom.
Under normal circumstances one might think working out inside a shed used to house riding
and horse equipment not the least bit strange. But nothing about anything the Newman's do
is normal. For years the tackyroom has been occupied by the likes of Cole Howard, Victoria
Newman, Diego Guittierez or any combination of the three.
It was first thought strange when old fart Newman would show up to workout while Howard
was writing. Said to be the author of over fifty books at the ripe old age of
twenty-seven, Howard was the only person in the world with a laptop which never needed
recharging. On occasion, Howard would even workout with his eventual father-in-law and
then return to his writing. The smell of horse manure and human body sweat was thought to
invigorate him and provide inspiration.
Whenever Newman wasn't hanging out at the tackyroom his daughter and Howard would have sex
in it. For them the tackyroom was home. Except for a tiny bathroom off the main room the
tackyroom was a bedroom, a living room and a kitchen - albeit consisting only of a single
burner hot plate and an old cowboy-style coffee pot - all rolled into one. Most notably,
due to her lack of homemaking skills, Mrs. Howard rarely changed the bed sheets and had to
completely move out when her husband began falling in love with and later married her
mother-in-law, Ashley Carlton.
For a spell the tackyroom was vacant until Diego Guittierez was hired as a pooper scupper
and stud service for the former Mrs. Howard's sister-in-law. After servicing Sharon
Newman, Guittierez turned his attention to Victoria Newman and banged her in the tackyroom
too on the very same bed. Alas, Guittierez had to hit the dusty trail leaving his latest
quest to move back lock stock and barrel into the tackyroom on a permanent basis.
There's something about that special aroma that permeates the Newman tackyroom which keeps
these people coming back. Naturally, as with anything related to sexual mores and
uptightness in Genoa City, irony and hypocrisy are rampant which might seem to bode well
in a place where happy consensual sex is an art form and a point of pride. The stink has
to be the reason a rich woman like Victoria Newman would allow her father to workout in
her bedroom.
The thirst for blood
April
30, 2003
Hail
the great Victor Newman! He's going to kick some ass! Thump thump thump on the manly chest
of the great Jabot Cosmetics liberator! Jack Abbott sucks! It's Miller Time.
Confusing as it is this is the sentiment - Jabot employee and contributor of big bucks to
the company her husband wants to destroy - Nikki Newman espoused Wednesday as she rolled
over into Newman's flabby arms.
"I'm so lucky," she said, ogling Victor as he lay in bed with a black T-shirt
covering his massive chest.
"No, I'm the lucky one," Victor mumbled, happy to be so fortunate and if only
his son weren't such a dork and he hadn't popped those pain pills and let his
daughter-in-law shove her tongue down his throat they might be just like the Ozzie and
Harriet Nelson family.
Happy to jump on the back-biting bandwagon Nikki started in on what a whore Sharon Newman
is until Victor could no longer tolerate the mental anguish.
Prepared to focus his attention on the cosmetics war, Nikki remarked how Victor's
despondency had subsided. Imagine that? One minute Victor was so lucky, then sad, then
happy and Nikki saw this as completely normal behavior?
"It’s all because of you. I can’t tell you how much your love and support
means to me," Victor said, and as always, the flying monkeys huddled in the corner
rolled their eyes and shuddered at the absurdity of it all.
Yes, old Victor is quite the stud. Nothing gets him down for long. He does, after all,
have a war to wage.
"I've seen that gleam in your eye before. The hunter after the kill," Nikki
quipped, and again the monkeys cringed.
"I live for it," Victor said, already tasting the victory and suddenly
remembering that his wife works for the competition and she better pull whatever might be
left of the $35 million she poured into Jabot before he topples the evil regime.
With what Victor is now calling a "balloon payment" - due next month on money
Jabot owes him - he fears the company will collapse. Any good business man knows all too
well that for a business like Jabot to come up with fifty grand is nearly impossible. And
allowing the company to pay off the loan with interest is not an option as the original
interest-free loan was. During war one business doesn't help the other because well,
"it’s not good business."
Perhaps it was the business degree hanging on the wall at her office she's rarely seen
inside that made Nikki ponder what Victor was warning her of and then state,
"Sometimes unexpected things happen in life."
Nikki's boner was typical of those without an ounce of common sense. Justifiably do the
war zealots gloat. Just you watch and see Mr. Newman. Our multibillion-dollar cosmetics
superpower will annihilate the little scrawny pip-squeak Newman Enterprises! See how we'll
barely break a sweat doing it when your son betrays you! You know how it is. Unexpected
things.
March 25, 2003
Newman tired of son's
attitude!
Genoa City's most
powerful man, Victor Newman, said Tuesday he is sick and tired of his son's snotty
attitude and that the time has come for Nick Newman to get over himself.
For the past
several weeks Nick Newman has blamed his father for the kiss his slutty wife inflicted on
the drugged man during a rare instance when the elder Newman was vulnerable to horny
empty-headed daughter-in-law's sticking their tongues down the throats of their husband's
fathers.
Without
bothering to uncover all the facts in the case before charging his father with what could
be seen as a case of incest, young Newman has stomped his little feet and thrown tantrums
almost daily.
Concerned for
his son's still comatose adopted daughter, Mr. Newman tried again to offer his support
only to be told by the social psychopath his help wasn't wanted.
"I’m
getting tired of your attitude," Mr. Newman bristled, but did not remind the young
buck just who foots the massive medical bills, gives out fancy jobs to unskilled workers
and who generally prevents ungrateful children from having to earn their livings by
slinging hamburgers at the local fast-food restaurant.
February 4,
2003
Oh God!
by Lois Hill
Please
God! Please God!" shrieked a terrified and exhausted Victor Newman here Tuesday upon
figuring out that while he swapped bodily fluids with his daughter-in-law, his son was out
there somewhere watching the show.
"Oh, no. My boy! Please tell me you didn't see. Tell me you didn't," a
weepy-eyed Newman sobbed in severe what has become of us rectal pain after poking around
in the cesspool where Nick Newman had tossed fresh picked flowers intended for his
salacious wife, Sharon.
Deserving to have his entire blood supply drained and replaced with a combination of
embalming fluids for what he did, Father Time, in his narcotic-induced stupor, had
forgotten the first rule of getting into the pants of married tight-lipped sycophantic
whiny dominatrix. Close the blinds! Pull the curtains.
This is not to say that Victor's action was premeditated, but that he had to have known
what a vulnerable skank Sharon is. Hadn't Victor heard to news? It was all over the city.
Sharon pulled her panties down for the stable boy. She went to that cabin in the woods
when everybody told her not to and would have let herself get poked by Matt Clark if
Victor hadn't saved her sorry ass. Just the sight of Sharon induces sufficient levels of
creeped-out nausea. She is beyond redemption.
For all his whimpering over poor Sharon, those precious little Newman children and braying
that his boy's marriage must be saved, Victor has only managed to get sucked into Sharon's
quicksand.
January 28,
2003
Banditos arrested; all
in a dazed day's work
With just
a bandage around his thick head to show for his trouble, man of steel Victor Newman
appeared none the worse for wear Tuesday after a mad knock down drag out encounter with
the notorious Frito banditos. Wisely refusing transport to the Center 4 Disease for
medical treatment, a dazed Newman took his place in the Hall of Idiocy alongside his
daughter, Ryan McNeil, Ralph Hunnicutt and others who have been knocked unconscious but
have refused treatment.
As the
bandits were led off to jail, high-fives were given all around as Newman thanked ex-con
Larry Warton and hunkmonkey Diego Guittierez for a job well done
and then thanked God his electro-prostate stimulator still works.
Bandito trap snares man of steel
January 27, 2003
What
happened Monday at the Newman ranch just goes to show what happens when avenging
hunkmonkeys, ex-cons, and rich jerks form a coalition to nab brainless Frito banditos when
collectively they lack the brainpower to change a flat tire.
To avoid its insipidness, the scene could have emulated that Vincent Price movie, House of
Wax, where at the end professor Henry Jarrod falls into a vat of bubbling green Dow
Chemical sludge and dies or a murderer jumps seemingly out at the audience. But there
would be none of that or much of anything resembling believability.
Factor in the knowledge that neither the Wartman nor Guittierez has ever been inside the
Newman home long enough to know about the existence of a safe and the whole charade
becomes a falling down laughing joke.
After ordering his slave to locate and warn members of the precious Newman family to stay
away from the ranch until further notice, and of course not telling them why, the great
Victor Newman checked with crime fighters Diego Guittierez and Larry 'Wartman' Wartman to
be sure the trap was set. It was a plan only a pack of weirdly mutated hairless dwarfs
could have thought up.
Trigger-happy Diego would let the banditos in by the back gate as the Wartman pretended to
be drilling open the safe located by the bar inside the main house. As the banditos were
arriving, Diego would call the cops allowing the fuzz plenty of time to make the one-hour
drive and subsequent arrest.
Over Diego's objection, Newman said there would be no guns even though it was known the
banditos were packing heat.
"You don’t understand. These guys left me for dead. I want my shot at
them," Diego sniveled only to be called "son" by Newman and reminded that
things at the Newman ranch are done the Newman way.
Remarkably, a call came in on Warton's cell phone. The banditos were just turning off the
main road and would arrive within moments. Presumably, the slave was hiding in the bushes
near the main highway and made the call. Suddenly, the plan changed slightly. Newman
ordered Diego to let the bandits in while Warton waited by the house and Victor blended
into the shadows.
When the banditos showed up everyone went inside the house. With pistol drawn, one bandito
watched as Warton began drilling the safe and out of the corner of his eye spotted
Guittierez reaching for the proverbial fireplace poker. Apparently having heard about
Ralph Hunnicutt's encounter with Billy Abbott and the infamous Chancellor Estate poker
fiasco, the bandito ordered Guittierez to watch the window and then said nothing as
Guittierez walked outside.
Noticing the time, the banditos gave Warton five minutes to open the safe and only then
noticed Guittierez was no longer in the room. Peeking outside and unable to see Diego, the
bad guys began getting strange vibes. Warton tried the old distraction ploy by flashing
hot Newman cash at them.
Gazing at the loot, the banditos nearly jumped out of their skin when Victor materialized.
"Let me introduce myself. I’m Victor Newman. This is my house. That is my
money," he mumbled.
The banditos were flabbergasted. Their caper had gone bust. The man of steel stood before
them. They knew from watching too much of the TV Land Channel that bullets bounce off
Superman but waved the gun at Victor anyway ordering him to freeze.
Cool, collective, afraid of nothing big man about town he is, Victor ignored the order and
began sweet-talking the dudes into not adding a murder charge to their list of crimes.
Besides, the place was surrounded.
To prove all those Kung-Fu lessons and workouts with Tricia Dennison watching had paid
off, Victor kicked the gun out of the armed man's hand following through with a punch to
the jaw. Waiting for the order to do something besides play pocket pool, Diego smacked
away at a bandito as Newman and Warton stood by. Engrossed in the smackdown, Newman didn't
notice the other bandito coming at him with a bottle until it had shattered on his head.
As an unconscious Victor slumped to the floor, the Wartman pummeled the bottle bearer into
the middle of next week until there was a knock at the door. The police were outside
politely announcing their arrival.
Sadly, observers were left wondering, but not much caring, would Victor Newman, a man who
has been shot and harpooned and lived to tell about it, die from a mere bottle upside the
head? Is there any chance Diego might still reach for a gun and be shot dead by police so
that his incessant vendetta to get even and get back Newman's money - money Newman doesn't
want back and which no longer exists - will end?
There is still some hope.
January 23, 2003
Cover-up!
by Brent
Kellogg
It was
an utterly horrible and spirit-crushing comedy about four hapless jerks capable of some of
the worse colon-clenching imaginable.
There they were, Brad and Ashley Carlton racing to the Newman ranch at speeds in excess of
the posted limit and nervous Nelly egging Brad to drive faster than the BMW was designed
along the darkened highway as if by some miracle, Victor Newman would come up from behind
and overtake them with his brand new Hummer2.
Pulling into the Newman driveway, Ashley felt a shuddering mass descend upon her. There,
in plain view, was Victor's Hummer. "Oh God," she snorted as if God could make
the 10MPH gas-guzzler go away or maybe make her forget that she knew Victor was returning
from Chicago this night or that Brad knew too and should not have been surprised that the
great man was home.
While the smart thing would have been to turn around, go find a phone and call Nikki
Newman if they wanted her to know that Victor doesn't know his sperm sired Ashley's baby,
these people are not known for their high level of intelligence. Instead, they got out of
the beamer and went to the door.
Inside, Nikki was berating Victor for creating an illusion of happiness, generally being a
bitch and reminding Victor that Carlton has been looking to "rip" his head off,
when the doorbell rang.
"Who the hell is it? Go away!" Nikki bellowed, but opened the door anyway to see
the Carlton's standing outside. "What the hell are you doing here?" she bellowed
again as Brad said there was something urgent the old cow needed to know and whisked her
off to say that Father Time doesn't know he's a daddy and to think twice before flapping
her gums again and making a bad situation even worse.
As he chatted with Ashley, Victor did not think, gosh, wasn't Brad "loaded for
bear" and shouldn't I ask why in hell Nikki keeps telling me that Brad wants to rip
my head off? And, duh, what's so damn important that these two would come to my home at
this late hour when this is the first time they've been here in years and why are Brad and
Nikki whispering in another room?
Moments later, the Carlton's were gone.
The secret safe, Nikki told the mustache all she wants is to be happy.
Was this not just the dumbest thing you ever did witness?
Have these imbeciles not learned of the serious pain they inflict by keeping secrets? Yes,
you know why Victor wasn't told the truth. Had he been told there would be no further
regurgitating of this matter. No charges of betrayal and deceit coming this time from
Victor which you really shouldn't think about too much lest you become instantly and
not-so-slightly nauseated at the whole thing.
And what are we to expect? Perhaps a few shots of Victor and his mannequin wife squatting
by the Hummer, staring dumbly into space, she bawling and whimpering how happy she is,
while he, adjusting her nipple warmers, probes his aging mind and wonders, um, wasn't Brad
looking to rip my head off or is this all a dream?
Clarification
In this story it
was implied that Victor Newman did not ask Brad Carlton why he was so hell-bent on finding
him. In fact, Newman did ask but Carlton only shrugged his shoulders and walked away
without answering. A real man, as Newman is alleged to be, would not have let Carlton get
away so easily. He would have demanded Carlton tell what was going on that has his wife
all bent out of shape, bawling and whining and throwing charges of betrayal and deceit
around. As it was, Newman appeared to have been talking to the wall.
January 9,
2003
Case of the missing
secretary
Shouldn't a
noted bunion on the heel of big business like Victor Newman be concerned that his
secretary, last thought to be Connie "Cornball" Wayne, just ups and goes off to
potty without giving the great man a buzz on his intercom in the event he might want to
lock the door to keep out any rift-raft that might blow in?
The question arose Thursday when drifter, thought to be drug dealer and "scum",
Diego Guittierez made his way past Newman Enterprises security, into Newman's
inner-sanctum and strolled right into the darken pit Victor calls an office.
"What are you doing here?" Victor growled and did not think, wow, it's a good
thing the terrorists aren't looking to kidnap me today or I'd be up the creek without a
paddle.
"Your secretary isn’t at her desk," Diego replied and Victor didn't think,
good god, why does that woman spend so much time in the toilet and leave me vulnerable
like this?
Diego wanted to lay out his plan for getting back the money of Victor's he had lost, but
Victor cut him off the moment he heard Diego say, "I have an idea."
Newman said he wasn't concerned about the money. 100-grand is chump change. He spends that
much filling up his Hummer each week, so be gone little man and let me get back to looking
blankly out the window.
In a dazed reverie, Diego huffed and puffed. He'd make those nasty thugs who stole Mr.
Newman's money sorry they ever messed with him. And oh, would Victor like to provide the
muscle?
"You’re dumber than I thought. Get out!" Victor raged sending the annoying
overrated faux-punky sorta windshield cowboy on his way.
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