2005 News Archives
Victor Newman
See Also: Crime  Nikki Newman

Master of Disaster

November 7, 2005
by Brent Kellogg

Let's say you're a hunkmonkey who never finished college opting instead for the chance to become a junior private detective. Let's say too you've recently been handed an assignment by Genoa City's most powerful man to do background checks on the entire staff of a company Mr. Victor Newman has taken over and you never actually performed more than a couple of checks but went ahead and prepared a report for Newman anyway; a report that was promptly ignored because the great man had a more important task for you. And say that task is to find an expert in computer espionage. What do you do? Do you go straight to the National Academy of Computer Sciences? Do you contact Microsoft or Dell? Not if you're J.T. Hellstrom.

If you're J.T. you drop by the local coffee shop where you notice the co-owner, a person you once hated with every fiber of your being, installing software on the shop's computers to prevent customers from surfing the Internet for porn. You take notes as Kevin Fisher, a guy accused of burning down the RoadKill Cafe, a guy who is thought to have tried to kill your sweetheart and gave a sixteen-year-old girl an STD, yells at his customers that they can't get kinky in his place and if they do he will so kick their ass and ban them from the shop forever.

You also observe with interest as co-owner Mac Browning tells Kevin how impressed she is that Kevin is a take charge kinda guy, that she's so lucky having a partner with such expertise and Kevin reminding Mac that indeed, they make a good team. That's when you make your move.

You ask Kevin what he knows about computers and discover he knows a lot. He knows about "code" and probably could own Microsoft but chose slinging lattes for a living right after he found God. Yes, code. Not exactly the HTML code webmaster Phyllis Summers uses to confuse her employers, but after watching her peck a few keys say they learned a little something about keeping their web sites running, code. Code that merely by changing a 1 to an 0 "can make a big difference" and be "hard to find" by lay people. Why, if he's a mind to, Kevin can tinker with the code that runs Windows and make it do all the things Microsoft left out.

You are so impressed with Kevin's knowledge you forget that with the help of his laptop his tracked the whereabouts of Lily Winters and Daniel while they were on their summer crime spree and once used the laptop to entice the girls, including your girl, before the police seized it and scrubbed the hard drive.

And because you are so enamored with Kevin's skills you say you've been looking for a expert in computer espionage and ask if he might like to help you. Of course, you haven't actually done this yet, you're just thinking about it. You're thinking because Mr. Newman said not to discuss the suspected hacking by Phyllis into the Newman Enterprises computer network with anyone except your mentor, Paul Williams.

Paul, being the hack he is, won't object if you ask Kevin because he too has forgotten how much he hated Kevin and tried so hard to entrap him and wanted him sent to a gulag for the rest of his meaningless life. Oh, yes, Kevin is the perfect choice to catch those computer spies; those slimy bastards and bitches who would steal the ingredients that make up Beauty of Nature, NE's latest in a series of toxic cosmetics while ignoring the internal e-mail between Victor and his diaper-wearing children wherein the details of how Victor intends to take over the world are outlined.

What's most important now is protecting BoN as if consumers who purchase the goop can tell the difference between red dye #2 and yellow dye #3. As if AVON is out there waiting for a double-agent to say he/she has the secret recipe and will hand it over for a few million dollars.

So you see? It's not all rabid fear-happy Bible thumpers banning porn and first-time novelists getting their first-ever book published or the chain-saw babble of Yolanda Hamilton going to rehab when she's really going to NA meetings. It's protecting synthetic goo and Agent Orange by-products that matters.

Kevin becoming Victor's go-to-guy, his "expert", will be more proof that Victor has lost his way. Before he got senile and his manhood shriveled, Victor would never have lowered himself to the level of a J.T. Hellstrom or a Kevin Fisher. The real Victor Newman would never reach out to a punk-ass pansy or a child molester. He was the master of dread. He was the snotty spoiled schoolyard bully with deep and rather pathetic machismo issues who no one liked, but who all the women wanted to sleep with because they, and Victor himself, considered him to be God's gift to humankind.

Putting Kevin or J.T. anywhere near the rooting out of Newman Empire evildoers, which is not to say that in its present form the infection of computer espionage is remotely believable, is just wrong. Victor, in his old age, is better than this. In one fell swoop he could go from the master of dread to the master of disaster.

Guests at Bon Voyage Party Few, Far Between and Spaced Out
September 29, 2005
by Brent Kellogg

Like you, I'm often confused by some of the things the elite adults and trust fund babies in Genoa City say and do, so it's nice to know that for the next several weeks, months perhaps, there won't be any doubt about why Nikki Newman is saying and doing some very strange things. She's stoned! Being higher than a kite does that to people. They ramble on incoherently about the sky, see things that aren't there, forget what they went to the supermarket for and spend hours counting the pills in their stash.

Without a doubt this is why Nikki said Thursday that hunkmonkey J.T. Hellstrom is "not exactly a friend of the family." Sure, it contradicts her previous statement that J.T. helped save her from those awful, inept gangsters, but hey, Nikki is a certified space case now. She can get away with contradiction and think J.T. is spying on her because, well, he is. Isn't that funny?

Isn't it strange too that high school boy-looking J.T. couldn't understand why he'd been invited to the Newman bon voyage party when the Newmans all but kissed his ass for the meager role he played in Nikki's rescue? Isn't it weird that Katherine Sterling told "Jeffery Todd" he's got to learn how to mingle with the rich and famous, kiss their rings and be at their beck and call? Older than the hills, Katherine reminded J.T. she's known the Newmans for more years than he's been alive and while she agreed Nikki is looking "shaky" these days, said she'll be fine after the cruise.

Speaking of strange, wasn't it freaky that for all the people Victor invited only a few showed up and most were members of his own family? Where were the Abbotts? Aren't they friends now? Where was Ashley Carlton and Victor's daughter, Abby Carlton? Brad Carlton was there. J.T.'s boss, Paul Williams was there. The sourpuss J.T. is stringing along, Mac Browning was there. They all heard Victor tell them about the 120 foot long Love Boat he and Nikki are going to sea on. The one with two 1300HP engines "on the back" and the crew of twelve apparently not counting the servants because slaves don't really count as Newman peon Miguel Rodriguez and Sterling slave Ether Valentine could attest as they waited hand and foot on the guests.

Young Noah Newman, old enough to play soccer and little league baseball and greatly impressed by Gramp's boat description was there. Unfortunately, the lad grew so tired his soccer coach/dad had to put him to bed as the party wound down, but Noah did get to spock Victor's model car collection so long as he didn't touch anything in the great man's office.

All the talk of boats and model cars went right over Mac's head as she ranted to Nikki she's had trouble sleeping at night thinking about the challenges of running the Jitter Joint. Challenges she's nevertheless not too concerned about given all the research she and co-owner Kevin Fisher (not invited to the party) put into obtaining the coffee shop. Plus, as Mac added, Kevin has "a lot of bookkeeping experience."

No get together in and around Genoa City would have been complete without at least one person noticing that another didn't seem like him or herself. This time it was Mac who noticed J.T. didn't seem like himself but failed to say who he might be.

Of the few remaining guests, Sharon Newman spent most of her time gritting her teeth as the man she's developed an urge to have sex with focused his attention on Victoria Newman. Paul Williams, his head swollen from being told "you're a great detective" was unwilling to explain what makes women tick. He did note that whatever it is, men "aren't meant to know" as it would, to paraphrase, "spoil all the fun" of raping them.

When dinner was finally served Victor thanked everyone for helping his family through another crisis then thanked them again during dessert at which time he noted the voyage he and Nikki are about to embark on will be like "a second honeymoon" when he probably meant to say third honeymoon.

The one guest who said she had planned attending the party, Jill Abbott, never showed up.* Good thing too as she may have gotten lost in the crowd. A crowd so thick Victor didn't notice J.T. standing mere feet away until he began ratting Nikki out by giving Nikki's "secret" away. Before J.T. could say much that Victor doesn't already know, Nikki screamed at him to get the hell out. So baffled did Victor appear it was uncertain for a moment just who the druggie was. Him or Nikki? Saying she didn't want Victor to know she's on edge because he might not take her away from the madness, Victor assured her they're leaving. In fact, the limousine was waiting in the drive with the engine running as they spoke.

And with that, as all 4 invited guests not including family members called it a night, the happy couple sailed off into the darkness.

[Sound of dialing phone and ringing] "Hello? Osama? Listen, bud. There's this ship heading for the Greek Isles. Think you could put a bomb on board? We'll blame it on Saddam."

*Jill showed up late, then made a hasty exit. If you blinked you would have missed her.

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall; Who's the Toughest Man of All?

August 4, 2005
by Brent Kellogg

When I reported yesterday there would be an aftermath in the wake of Vinny Trabuco's demise and Nikki Newman's rescue I wasn't kidding. There always is, you know. There's much patting on the back and words of praise following the successful conclusion of a tragedy especially when members of the Newman family are involved. Take today for example.

Rushed to the God Have Mercy Medical Center to have her superficial wounds examined Nikki Newman strolled in mostly under her own power with the great Victor Newman at her side and who should they bump into? The just popped a premature baby out of her belly Brittany Marsino! No hospital bed for this mother, Brittany was a regular chatterbox. Her husband was nowhere to be seen. Bobby Marsino had failed to be at his own son's birth and wasn't that just the most outrageous thing anyone had ever heard? Never mind that Brittany knew she and Bobby aren't supposed to be seen together. Never mind that the Mob might kill them all. Never mind that J.T. Hellstrom is still so scared he's still hobbling around on crutches when there's nothing wrong with him.

So as to calm Brittany's fear something may have happened to Bobby J.T. uttered these immortal words: "No one is tougher than Victor Newman" as the great man asked, "What are you doing here?"

Forgetting for the time being Nikki might be having a brain hemorrhage for all Victor knew, Nikki forgot too. She was more interested in how baby Joshua arrived in the world so early. It wasn't like Brittany had been under stress or that in Genoa City just the mere tripping on the edge of a carpet can result in the death of unborn babies.

Reporting that the baby will be fine Brittany asked if someone could tell her where Bobby is. Perking up, Paul 'Clueless' Williams said he didn't know, but the last he'd seen Bobby was fine and headed "North" to give the authorities there evidence of Mob activity so sensitive local police could not be trusted with it.

Suddenly remembering she needed to be checked out Nikki went off for some expensive medical tests. It was then Clueless announced that just before Vinny and his goon were locked up they'd been allowed to make one telephone call. Thanks to high tech eavesdropping techniques they'd learned too the call was made to the Mob and a hit immediately placed on Bobby's head.

And how did Clueless know this? The creepy Christine 'Bug' Blair, a cheap lawyer, had, apparently, been at the jail or detention center or wherever the hell Vinny had been taken. Try as she might, the Bug said she couldn't prevent Vinny from making the call.

This news only infuriated Brittany. She demanded someone tell Joshua, a baby for all intents and purposes dead to the world, that he may never know his father. Not a single person looked at Brittany and said, "What's the big freaking deal? Plenty of kids in this city don't know their father and they're doing just fine so stop your bitching."

Clueless went on to say he'd been told the Federal Government would not offer Bobby a spot in the Witness Protection Program until morning at the earliest even if Bobby were to return with evidence beforehand.

Worried what this might mean for the Marsino family Victor decreed that private guards be assigned to Brittany's hospital room at Newman expense. It was then Nikki returned from the GHM's drive-thru radiology department to report nothing is wrong with her, but the doctor did want to keep her overnight for observation. This concern for her health was flicked off like an unwanted fly on a dead horse. Keep Nikki away from her man? No way! She wants to go home to the ponderosa where freaks like Cameron Kirsten can scare the crap out of her. She feels "safe" there in Victor's strong arms. No surprise, really, given Victor is the toughest man J.T. knows. And to prove how rough and tough she is Nikki said she'd be back first thing in the morning to check on Brittany's baby, like Brittany would want her anywhere near the kid, but probably feels beholden to Nikki considering Joshua was born on Newman property which just might give the kid special powers if he lives long enough.

Rancid Urine!

August 1, 2005

When Victor Newman let his prey loose to roam the streets another day it was obvious he planned to follow Vinny Trabuco hoping to discover where Vinny is holding his wife. What wasn't obvious was how Victor planned to accomplish the goal until later when he got a call from private detective Paul 'Clueless' Williams telling him that everything had been arranged. This only complicated matters as it wasn't clear when Victor and Clueless had time to arrange anything unless it was during their trip to the Sugar Shack on the lucky chance they'd find Vinny there which they did.

Returning to the law office of Baldwin & Blair to see what was shaking Victor didn't know that J.T. Hellstrom - told to take Brittany Marsino to the Newman Ponderosa after being freed from Vinny's grip - had been there earlier with Brittany watching, in all his glory, Clueless playing with what he called a "state of the art" electronic tracking toy commonly known as a GPS positioning device. On the market and available to the public for years, to Clueless GPS was something so new he couldn't install the device on Trabuco's car himself. He had to have one of his "operatives" do it and now he was happy to report Vinny's every move was being traced.

Victor hadn't seen J.T.'s car in the parking lot, or pass him and Brittany along the way, either. Victor completely missed hearing Clueless say he didn't know whether Vinny would lead him "on a wild goose chase", or to Nikki Newman, which was supposed to be the whole purpose of the GPS device. And as if Brittany hadn't heard what Clueless had said J.T. had to repeat that they can track Vinny anywhere he goes.

Further confounding the situation was Victor's question: "What have you got there" as an excited Clueless pointed to an electronic map showing Vinny's movement. Victor did recognize one thing, however. Vinny had taken Mason Road to avoid traffic congestion. Additionally, Vinny was headed East.

"But where on the East side?" an agitated Clueless exclaimed, which was, was it not, the purpose of the GPS. To show where Vinny was going?

Adding insult to an already boisterous situation Victor uttered a mind-numbing statement. Why, he bet right then his wife was trying to figure out how to give them a signal.

When Vinny finally stopped moving Bobby Marsino noted the area was infested with warehouses. Victor raised his bushy eyebrows. Was Bobby sure? Do bears crap in the woods? Of course Bobby was sure. So off they went.

Nikki Newman was trying to signal them all right. If she could just pee her rescuers might pick up the scent of rancid urine. Tied to a chair with a gag in her big mouth Nikki managed to grunt loud enough for her captor to get the message she wanted the gag removed, her hands untied and to use the potty. Big and bad as Luca the goon was he agreed at which point Nikki turned on the bawling machine and flashed the smell of Newman money at him.

Handing Nikki a Puff Luca refused the promise of cash for her release then checked with Vinny for permission to let her pee so long a Nikki promised not to escape. The moment Luca was gone Nikki untied her legs, but wasn't fast enough as Vinny returned with Luca and tied her up again this time with a warning she better tell him where Bobby is keeping the "stuff". If Nikki didn't know Vinny said he'd figure she don't know and could then be dumped in a lake as she'd served her purpose. This threat concerned Luca deeply. Duh, boss. "Are you going to whack her?" he asked.

At press time no answer was immediately forthcoming from Vinny's lips. Did there have to be? So what if Nikki dies? Do we care? No, we don't because we are 99.9% certain Nikki can't die. She's invincible. Besides, if Vinny took her to a lake it would be the same lake Izzy Brana is thought to have died and we know all too painfully well what happened to Izzy. She managed to swim to a remote island within the lake, drain her own blood, then swam back to pour the blood into a rowboat so as to fake her own death. The one man who knew about this, Otis Elwood, was never brought in for questioning by police. Elwood was shuttled off to a Montana cabin at Victor Newman expense and never heard of again. Repeated requests of the Persecutor's Office by the GCN demanding Victor be investigated for tampering with evidence fell on deaf ears. Yet, as recent as today, Glenn Richards had the audacity to say he must pursue the Romalotti case because the "public demands" justice.

So then, why should we care what happens to Nikki when we know that without police help Victor and Bobby will come to Nikki's rescue? Answer: Because it's not really news. There is, unfortunately, nothing here that we haven't seen a hundred times before and therefore to try to trumpet it all again as some sort of irrefutable revelation that should change the face of the Newmans and the Marsinos as a whole is sort of like beating a dead horse we all knew was already dead but that has taken on a new dimension of stink.

Yes, we remain grateful Victor is putting an end to another insane Mob story and truly wish the Mob gets the message this time it cannot win, it does not scare. Except for the belly laughs preened from this Grade-D cops and robbers video it's too late to care about the blundering lessons of how people should take the law into their own hands. Yes, the GCPD is inept, but this shouldn't justify vigilante justice.

It is almost pointless to scream and rant and point fingers of blame. We all know who is to blame, and it ain't Victor or his Three Stooges mentality. We've allowed ourselves to be driven so deep into the Genoa City hellhole it serves almost no purpose to whine about the obvious deceptions and blatant whore-like maneuverings that got us here. We are now, instead, focused on endurance. On gritting teeth and getting through and getting the hell out of this latest Newman tragedy so we might recuperate in time for the next one which, like Comcast tells its cable customers, "If there isn't already an outage in your area, one is coming soon."

Newman Stomps Feet, Mob Crumbles!

July 29, 2005

Talk about things going to hell in a hand basket. Talk about recycled hash. After witnessing what happened Friday in Genoa City one might have thought somebody once again realized they'd painted themselves into a corner and so there was only one thing to do. Make it end!

Not that the inevitable collapse of the City's Mob wasn't welcomed, it was funny too! Maybe this time the Mob will get the message. Wisconsin is not New Jersey. There's no money to be made skimming bar receipts and pushing bootleg booze.

In total control of the situation from his vantage point an hour's drive away, Victor Newman fielded questions from in over their heads bush league crime fighter J.T. Hellstrom and once a gangster always a gangster Bobby Marsino. Did the fact Mrs. Newman couldn't be reached by cellphone mean she's in trouble?

Bobby said no. Most likely Nikki was out running errands and like so many women didn't want to be bothered while shopping so she turned the phone off. Victor rejected that notion. Not because women are often seen chatting away on their phones at the supermarket or the drugstore, but because his wife would never go anywhere without telling anyone!

Painfully aware that Nikki's car was still parked in the Baldwin & Blair Law Office lot, yet nobody had seen her for hours, that Victor was looking extremely worried and Bobby was turning white with fear, J.T. asked, "Do you think something has happened to Mrs. Newman?"

"No! You fool. That's why we're calling all over damnation and these brown stains are starting to appear on the bottom of our pants. What do you think, J.T.?" Victor didn't ask, but you know by now - should have. The great man did, however, put J.T. on notice. Because he was the last to see Nikki he is therefore being held responsible should anything happen to her.

Putting the boys into the back seat of his SUV Victor zoomed into town and within minutes was inside the law office. At the same time, in an attempt to make himself look important, B&S on staff PI Paul 'Clueless' Williams was on the phone with parking security. Mrs. Newman's car was not to leave without his knowing about it.

Suddenly, Victor had a flash. For all the urgency perhaps J.T. had forgotten to mention something of the utmost importance regarding his last conversation with Nikki. Straining his pea brain for a moment J.T. then replied, "I told you pretty much everything I know."

"Pretty much? What does pretty mean? Could it be you left something out?" Victor didn't ask as J.T. went on to say it's a good thing he and Nikki hadn't been "out in public" when they spoke because damm but what Bobby wasn't always telling him how the Mob has "eyes and ears everywhere" yet J.T. had no qualms about meeting Bobby in the park only minutes earlier.

The words eyes and ears caused Clueless to perk up. Gosh, what if someone had bugged the place. No, not that bug. The electronic kind. Sure enough, Clueless found a bug and with J.T.'s help squashed it dead. That a bug had been found could mean only one thing. Somebody heard J.T.'s conversation with Nikki! This revolting development seemed to confuse Victor.

"Who would do this?" he actually asked.

Hey Victor! Clean out your ears! Get a freaking hearing aid! The Mob, you silly thing. Haven't you heard a word J.T. and Bobby have been saying? Sure, they're not the brightest bulbs in the pack, but even you, great as you are and all, should have been able to figure that one out. Jesus!

And so, because Victor didn't know, Clueless had to tell him. Small-fry hood Vinny Trabuco. Of course, this was just a "guess" on Clueless' part, but if he guessed right Vinny and the Mob probably knew everything by now which is more than Clueless could ever say.

Sure enough it just so happened that at that moment Vinny was on the horn with his boss. With a little more time Vinny would have all the ducks in a row. Bound and gagged he wouldn't hurt Nikki if he didn't need to so long as she talked. Yes, Vinny was aware Victor is a "big shot" in town and that it's not nice to mess with old man mumbles. Yes, Vinny is sure Bobby is up to no good, he just needs to gather more evidence. Yes, time of the essence and if they don't move fast their "operation" whatever it was would fail.

With a loose end to tie up Vinny hotfooted it over to the Sugar Shack where he waited until Mrs. Marsino got off the elevator and conveniently dropped her key so he could pick it up and escort her inside. Putting on her best act Brittany pretended not wanting anything to do with Bobby again until Vinny told her the jig is up. Why Vinny even went to the Shack was not clear unless he just wanted to brag. Once the mobsters get their hands on Bobby he'll be dead meat. Bobby "betrayed" the organization by not killing J.T. and by god now he must pay. First they'll pound Bobby's face in, they'll break his fingers one at a time, then his arms, then his legs and then, well, Brittany got the picture.

Brittany may have been too hysterical to notice the similarity between her current dilemma and the one that played out last year at the strip club for at that instance Victor, Clueless and J.T. came through the door which Vinny forgot to lock and barricade behind him. Grabbing Brittany around the neck much the way Sal Staley did Vinny warned the intruders he'd break her neck. Wielding a baseball bat much like the candlestick holder Tricia Dennison whacked Victoria Newman in the head with years ago (2001) Bobby warned back. For all anyone knows Vinny may have been lurking in the shadows that day Victoria took a hit because he knew being smacked with a blunt object would "only wound me" as it did with Victoria and Ryan McNeil before her. What they should have used was an ax handle had they really wanted to make an impression.

Realizing he was outnumbered, and had forgotten to bring along his gun as all good mobsters know to do, Vinny capitulated and then bowed before the great man. "If it isn't the great Mr. Victor Newman himself," Vinny said, as Victor gave him one chance to tell where Nikki is.

With Brittany and J.T. on their way to the Ponderosa Victor then, in a stroke of genius, offered Vinny double what the Mob was paying him to perpetrate this insane caper. When Vinny said he can't be bought Victor let him off with just a warning. If a white hair on Nikki's head has been harmed Victor will kill him.

See Also: Frito Banditos Revisited

Victor Newman Hero At Large

July 28, 2005

It was only a matter of time until Genoa City's most powerful man would have to step in and save the day. It was enviable because it's written somewhere that every year or so Victor is obligated to adorn his "HERO" uniform and do his patriotic duty of saving those who've got themselves in deep crap.

And so the stage was set this week when gangster Bobby Marsino sought out Victor's help after meeting in a public park with pseudo private eye J.T. Hellstrom when he's repeatedly warned that being seen with J.T. or his wife could jeopardize their plan to take down the Mob. Sticking out like a sore thumb J.T. arrived at the park late and on crutches in the event members of the Mob hiding in the bushes might become suspicious and thereby blow his cover whereas meeting with Bobby wouldn't. As if at this point it mattered Bobby had to ask: "Did anyone follow you?"

Like he would know, like a highly-skilled hit man or mobster would not be able to fool a fool, J.T. said he hadn't been followed and for the umpteenth time, like he'd told Vinny Trabuco they couldn't be seen together at the local gym but did anyway, Bobby warned J.T of the danger. Being seen together would rain down upon their empty heads a black plague. For Bobby that meant death.

J.T. was not so concerned. Had Bobby really been worried he wouldn't have already blown their cover a number of times like when he met with his wife at the strip club. Bobby grumped. What the hell was J.T. talking about? "I've been careful since day one," Bobby actually said, then it hit him. Who knew about the meeting with Mrs. Marsino?

Why, busybody Nikki Newman, that's who.

Bobby was aghast. Hadn't he told Nikki to stay out of his life? Why was she being so stubborn and how did she get into the female meat market without his seeing her?

J.T. said the fact is Nikki did and she's not going to stop poking around now that she knows the game they're playing is an act. A bad one at that, the act's goal is to take Vinny down. So before Nikki figures it out she needs to be nipped in the bud.

The high-level strategy meeting was cut short when Bobby received a summons from Vinny. Rushing to the strip club Bobby was surprised to learn someone had seen them together. That somebody was Nikki. Vinny saw her with his own eyes slipping out of the club and there's no telling what she heard. Nikki could be on her way right now to the obscure warehouse where they keep bootleg booze. Just one insignificant nosey woman could put an end to their entire "operation" and thus Nikki needs to be dealt with.

Bobby hit the panic button. No! Tampering with Mrs. Newman would only bring her big, bad husband out of retirement. Nobody, not even the Mob, wants Victor after them. As a counter measure Bobby said he'd have a chat with Nikki. Depending on what she knows a decision could be made later as to what to do with her.

Vinny, so focused, so worried his "operation" is at risk, suddenly developed another of his sexual eroticisms. Why isn't a stud like Bobby getting any? Why is a ladies man seemingly satisfied with self gratification?

Bobby flicked Vinny's concern with his lack of heterosexual sex off on his new status as a metrosexual. Beer-swilling, paunchy in his faded Dockers and overgrown eyebrows, Bobby's taking a break from normal sex all the while remaining unable to tell a clitoris from a lawn mower.

As his feeble mind drifted away from imagining the size of Bobby's unused penis Vinny had a brain fart. What if he attends the meeting Bobby plans to have with Nikki? Nope. Wouldn't be prudent, Bobby cautioned. Only one way to get the truth out of Nikki and that's for Bobby to meet with her alone.

Acting more like Homer Simpson than the thug he is, Vinny thought that was a great idea so long as Bobby provided him with a full report afterwards.

It's not clear how Nikki came to be missing. Apparently unable to locate her Bobby went straight to the Newman Ponderosa where he informed the great man that Nikki's big nose had gotten her a snoot of trouble again. It wasn't so much himself he was worried about that made Bobby spew his guts to Victor. He only wanted to "protect" the bull and his heifer.

Victor snorted. He'd take care of his own herd by first beefing up security at the ranch despite it being too late and never has done any good if Cameron Kirsten's carte blanche access to the ponderosa is any indication. As for Bobby's concern Nikki could be in the hands of some "dangerous" people Victor dismissed that notion too. The great Victor Newman fears no man or beast.

The more important question was why Bobby didn't seek out Victor's help the moment Nikki began grazing at the slop trough? Doesn't Bobby know anybody who messes with Victor Newman lives to regret the day, pays dearly for their acts of stupidity and are often ordered out of town? Before Bobby could answer Victor wanted to know who Nikki was last seen with. Told she'd had words with J.T. Victor ordered the hunkmonkey's immediate dispatch to the ranch. And like a good peon J.T. arrived moments later to say Nikki was onto their plot to take the Mob down.

So, once again the pendulum has swung. Victor, the great liberator, will set Nikki free. God speaks through him, and that God is on Victor's side and he'll beat the living crap out of any punk-ass Mob that interferes with his family especially when the Newman's are in the process of seeking closure and moving on which is never ending. Victor will take charge of these angry pip-squeak gangsters and in so doing let it be a lesson to all. Victor, pushing 70, scaly skin and all, is still a force to be reckoned with.

Oh, sure. Nikki may die in the process. There will be screaming headlines alluding to her death. Victor understands this. He is not merely about setting those heathen mobsters straight about who is the supreme big-daddy. Let it not be forgotten. Deep in his bag of tricks Victor has the ability to will people back to life. He's done it before and he'll do it again as sure as Nikki will awaken from a deep coma to thank Victor for being her hero.

Because above all, Victor is nothing if not all about the coming apocalypse. He is nothing if not all about saving those who believe, as he does, that Nikki is among the chosen to be saved. Victor is nothing if not about putting a quick and fiery stop to all this gangster nonsense and for that, at the very least, he should be thanked.

Ghouls Rush In

June 21, 2005

Victor Newman has done some creepy things in his long life but none so ghoulish as what he did this week at the Newman Ponderosa. As he returned alone Tuesday from an early morning horseback ride Nikki Newman noticed that for an old fart who could take his last breath at any moment her husband seemed unusually "mellow".

Not really sure why he appeared Damon Porter-like high on incense Victor surmised it could have something to do with having seen his youngest daughter the night before. Looking at Abby Carlton's innocent face made him smile. It made him happy knowing the seven-year-old has a ways to go before becoming like her bitchy half-sister and other wormy Newman family females.

But what made Victor giddy was the knowledge Nikki had made Abby's visit possible. Nikki said it was true. She, in her infinite wisdom, had known seeing Abby would be good for him. That's why she arranged for Ashley Carlton to drive Abby at least an hour each way in a raging storm. She, Nikki Newman, put the thought into Abby's head that seeing Victor that night would be just what the doctor ordered. She knew too that Abby had created a doll named Cassie in the form of a kola bear, with a heart and a soul in it just like the dead Cassie, and that the little tyke couldn't wait to present it to her real Pa. Yes, it was Nikki who subliminally contacted Abby and told her to ask mother Ashley to go for a ride just before bedtime. So long as Victor got what he needed was all Nikki cared about, the storm be damned.

Pondering as he so often does, Victor wondered what Nikki might need in return. Was there anything he could do, like maybe purchase a castle in England for her? A trip to Italy? Some pick-me-up flowers?

Nikki said she's stronger than that. She didn't need anything like that helpless daughter-in-law of hers and couldn't understand why her nitwit son had abandoned Sharon Newman when everyone knows what Sharon does when she's feeling fragile.

Victor was aghast. While his wife is out playing good Samaritan had she found time to grieve for Cassie? Had Nikki not already bawled buckets of tears over Cassie's death? Nikki said, why sure. She'd done more than her share of sniveling and what is to become of us bellyaching. Did Victor have a point?

The point, dull as it may be, was that Victor felt Nikki needed to talk about Cassie. Hell, if Nikki was trying to be a martyr he'd fixed that by pulling out a photograph of Cassie at their wedding. Not wedding #1, or 2, or 3, but wedding #4. See? There's the cute as a bug Cassie as a bridesmaid. There's Cassie catching the bridal bouquet. Did Nikki remember now what a bright future Cassie had in store before she was so tragically ripped away from them by that punk ass Daniel Romalotti?

In the event Nikki couldn't recall Victor rattled off a list of things Cassie won't be doing now that she's dead. She won't be having four weddings like her gramps and granny. She'll never get a chance to stick her tongue down Grandpa's throat. She won't abandon her family. She won't hit some guy she screwed over the head with a bottle or drag the man's body halfway around town in the trunk of her car and dump it into the sewer. She won't jump out of an airplane over an Iowa cornfield. Cassie won't get to have a baby at age seventeen and give it up for adoption. She won't get a fancy job at Jabot Cosmetics without a college education or any experience in the workplace and later dump the job for one similar at her husband's side at which she'll only work an hour.

The thought of it all had the desired effect on Nikki as she turned on the crocodile tear faucet. After the first salvo she took a break to thank Victor for being so ghoulish. "I really needed to do that" she actually said, as Count Dracula issued an assurance he'll always be there for her.

Then, because not a month goes by in this god forsaken city that the Newmans aren't suffering from some tragedy, Nikki had to say it again. It's up to Victor and her to "keep our family together."

Like the millions of times in the past they've said this and it hasn't happened yet, Nikki was adamant this time. "We can do it!

A Small Price to Pay

February 21, 2005

With all the confusion there are still those who aren't quite sure what has happened in the Genoa City business world. No surprise, really, when an empire built entirely on an intricate network of nepotism and bogus enemies it's easy to get confused.

At its lowest common denominator Newman Enterprises is still being run by Nick Newman. Despite that his back-stabbing son is a "traitor" and made one of the dumbest business decisions ever, Victor Newman did not have the courage this week to snatch the CEO-ship away from Nick the Prick like a rehab center takes away an addict's drug of choice.

The great man's popularity rating dropped ten points the moment he asked the traitor whether taking back control of the empire was something he should do, or whether Nick wanted to go on dragging the family name through the mud. Master strategist that he is, all puffed up like an inflatable doll and frantically redirecting blame, Nick accused Papa of intentionally humiliating him. Papa made him cut the worst business deal ever. Papa set a trap and like the weasel he is Nick stepped in it.

"You don't want me to become successful," Nick squealed, as it took Victor only minutes to undo the deal. Then, to further make a fool of himself, Nick threatened to sue those Indian-giving bankers who'd screwed him over. What Victor did was "payback" an ungrateful son who turned his own father into the cops. Daddy "interfered" by personally buying Jabot Cosmetics' debt and would not foreclose on Jabot as Nick had wanted.

To Nick's warped way of thinking making corporate-level deals involving massive amounts of money is like playing marbles. Don't like that he lost his "glassy"? Stomp around, throw a temper tantrum. Hold his breath until he turns blue.

For someone who has never in his life had to buy anything on credit it's no wonder Nick didn't know that in the real world assuming debt the size of Jabot's is not like taking over payments on a defaulted car loan. Has he anything but crap for a brain he would have checked with a lawyer. In progressive states he would have noticed the buyer's remorse clause.

Continuing his rant, Nick bellowed how Daddy is standing in his way. Daddy put him in the driver's seat in name only. Made an ass of him in front of business associates whom he'll never again be able to meet on the street without having them snicker and point fingers. See? Nick Newman. Just a joke. Victor Newman's puppet.

Forgetting that he'd tried to make Daddy look like an old man, which, come to think of it, Nick didn't have to do as those aren't money bags under Victor's eyes, Nick was about to bitch and moan some more when Victor told him to stop whining.

Instantly, Victor's approval rating shot up fifteen points. When Victor told the dinkwad "you tangled with the wrong guy," five more points were added. Unfortunately, Victor didn't tell Nick that if he doesn't have the education it takes to run an empire he could at least try looking the part by shaving off that scraggly beard and stop combing his short hair forward.

The upshot was the same, however. Poke Nick in the tummy and out comes hot air. He is a nothing, zero.

In related developments a meeting of the Jabot Board of Directors held Monday was all for not. It was a waste of time hearing Jack Abbott tell of his plan to use Chancellor Industries money to obtain 51% of Jabot stock and in the process slowly pay off its debt since Newman already owns the debt. By selling out to Chancellor the Abbotts only accomplishment was that they'd dug themselves a bigger hole.

At the meeting Gloria Abbott was asked to leave when she dared suggest members wait to hear from Newman personally. Even Brad Carlton was hesitant to pull a Nick Newman when they didn't have all the facts. And what about Katherine Sterling. What would she have to say about her company putting up the cash?

Aware that if Sterling found out what he'd done behind her back Jack diverted attention away from yet another of his blunders by threatening to walk out of Jabot forever if board members didn't agree to sell controlling interest in the family business. Jack said he wasn't about to risk his relationship with a new boss for a bunch of "ingrates" when that's exactly what he'd already done.

Like a member of Congress who votes for something knowing in advance it's bad Carlton was the first to cave. He'd vote for the buyout, but he wouldn't like it. Like sheep being led to the slaughter all were in agreement. Carlton would say later it felt as if Jack had screwed all of them.

It may be true that Carlton and his ilk bent over big time, but are they really screwed? Who at Chancellor gave Jack the power to negotiate such deals? This is the determining factor as if they weren't such morons when it comes to conducting business, someone, like a corporate lawyer might have told them to first determine whether Jack was authorized to make such a deal.

More importantly, the one thing Victor could have done when he told old man John Abbott he had no intention or interest in taking the family business away from them, he didn't do. Newman did not say "here is the bulk of your loan notes stamped paid in full." He did not say "I wash my bloody hands of this endless war. I am too old to be playing war games and should be right now at home sitting on the veranda with my lovely wife sipping lemonade and listening to Lawrence Welk on the Victrola."

Victor did not say that constant bickering only inflames the hate, increases the stress and shaves years off the lives of those who engage in it. He did not say look at my eyes. See how sunken they've become? See how despite the black hair dye I'm showing my age?

As for the money he'd lose by wiping the Abbott debt slate clean there's probably a loophole in the tax law allowing parents with mentally handicapped children to deduct loses sustained by said children's ignorance. He'd have to file IRS form 666, the form that penalizes parents who foolishly put their handicapped children in positions of power, but it would be a small price to pay.

A Job Well Done!

January 10, 2005
by Brent Kellogg

Imagine Donald Trump taking notes. "So this is how they do business in Genoa City? If I'd known it was so easy to take over a company like Jabot Cosmetics I could have shaved years off building Trump. I could have saved a few million on payroll taxes too. Just look at that Victor Newman go. Does all the leg work himself. I wished he'd do something about security at Newman Enterprises though. That Abbott guy just barges in any old time he wants," Trump might have said had he the stomach this week to watch as with one phone call Newman was able to herd the many Jabot creditors under one umbrella.

Look too as this scenario resembles the one of year's gone by when Jack Abbott and Brad Carlton were preparing their golden parachutes. Newman had them pinned in a corner just like now reinforcing the old adage that the more things change the more they stay the same.

Abbott's offer to purchase Jabot using Chancellor Industries vast wealth without Board of Directors approval not withstanding, what was especially weird was for all the time he's known of Jabot's problems Abbott only this week approached the central bank with a buyout offer plus five-percent.

The when you snooze you lose philosophy came into play again when Abbott was told he was a day late and a dollar short. Newman had beat him to the punch and the bank wasn't about to take another chance with Abbott considering his poor track record and the fact Newman sends lots of money its way.

Stop yawning. It gets better.

Knowing damn well that by authorizing Newman to save her surrogate father's company without asking first she'd be opening another can of Abbott worms, Ashley Carlton tried backing out. Old man John 'Yawn' Abbott scolded her for doing the one thing he'd never do under any circumstance: take charity from the evil Victor Newman. He'd rather die.

Once the wheels were in motion Newman reported to Carlton that it was time to restructure Jabot. He, being so powerful and all, was prepared to humble himself and actually show the nitwit how to move on now that the creditors were at bay. And what did Carlton have the audacity to say?

"I'm going to handle things myself from here on out."

Newman was stunned. Here he'd put his friggin' reputation on the line to save her lousy ass and this was the thanks he got? Did this bitch think he'd just walk away? Did he forget their agreement isn't in writing?

Damn right he did.

All Newman has is a verbal agreement with a stinking baby-killing sperm-stealing thief. A long way that'll get him in a court of law. Only one thing to do, really. Go back to the bank and cancel the deal. Let Jabot go belly up.

And that's exactly what Newman said he planned to do unless Carlton lived up to her end of the bargain. He had, after all, pulled Jabot out of the foul-smelling odor of bankruptcy.

"It's only fair considering the mess you made," Carlton spewed, as she again blamed Newman for the sewer she, her brother and the incompetents in any way connected with Jabot dumped the company into.

"So go do it," Carlton hissed, blaming Newman again for pulling the rug out from under the Abbott family.

The menacing chill could be felt for miles around. Visions of Nick Newman stabbing his father in the back moved in like black ominous clouds, only much worse. Much thicker. Much sleazier.

It was like Satan himself was there laughing maniacally as he sharpened his horns and spanked Carlton on the ass. "Way to go, my beauty," he might have howled promising to come into her bed that night. They'd pop some Ambien and stroke their portfolios and curse their genitals for a job well done.