Smiley Carlo

Guest Artist: Eduardo Vieira

Eduardo Vieira’s stories continue at The Daily Mobster. Remember, if you haven’t found his great work already be sure to find him on Instagram, Blogger, Facebook, YouTube, or Twitter.

Smiley Carlo
(In the style of a limerick)

Carlo was just a hobo and a thug,
Around town, just a forgettable mug.
Came the day when he crossed ole’ Duke
who sent out his dogs in a spook,
To crush down Carlo like a bug.

Duke showed Carlo who wears the crown.
Now, get out from this side of town!
But Carlo put up a fight,
gathered thugs in the night.
And went to go take Duke down.

Carlo thought he caught Duke off his guard,
but as soon as he got on Duke’s yard
Big Joe beat him all to bits,
with a knife, cut up his lips
and left Carlo nasty and scarred.

Now Carlo is forever in a smile,
he’s become vengeful, wicked and vile
He has started a war
to settle the score,
and take down Duke in style.

The Invisible Man

The Invisible Man

Is he real or is it mass hysteria?
Jewelers, traders and bank tellers
claim to have seen him in the area.
Beware you buyers and sellers.

Sixteen banks were robbed at gunpoint
all by a nobody, wearing a moustache.
Jewelers say he was casing the joint,
then thieving gold, silver and cash.

One has to wonder when your name implies,
that you are indeed, actually transparent
why you would have to wear a disguise.
That just seems incoherent.

Is it then fair, for one to conclude,
aside from the furry nose glass
that you rob the banks in the nude?
Sure a good thing we can’t see your….

I’m not sure which is better
for the front page fodder:
Are you The Invisible Swindler
or the Full Moon Marauder?

For Illustration Friday’s Topic: Moustache

“Bubbles The Snitch”

“Bubbles The Snitch”
(In the style of a commercial jingle)

Plop, plop, fizz fizz,
You’s in trouble, yes you is.
Oh “Bubbles,” you’re such a rotter.
How’s it down there in the water?

You and your brothers
are quite the bothers.
All you stool pigeons
must pay for your sins.
It’s not so nice
to tattle to vice,
now you ain’t got no brass
to cover your ass.

Plop, plop, fizz fizz,
You’s in trouble, yes you is.
Bet you are hoping for wishes,
How is it sleeping with the fishes?

You’re  in such a snitching rut,
can’t just keep it shut?
It’s ok, it’s no sweat.
Everyone will soon forget.
No protection and no fame,
we’ll even have to change your name.
They’ll never know if you were poor or rich,
only that you were “Bubbles The Snitch”

Plop, plop, fizz fizz,
You’s in trouble, yes you is.
Snitch snitch, what a snake,
how’s the bottom of the lake?

For Illustration Friday’s: Under Water

When Pigs Fly

“When Pigs Fly”
(The Style of a Hyper Race Announcer)

And here we go folks, the final lap!
In the lead is It’s A Trap.
Oh Hell Yes is in second place,
Is This Rigged? will make this a close race.

Who’s The Boss is trampling past Paid Off,
making it uncomfortable for To The Left And Cough.
Oh folks! Your Mama Can’t Dance,
you better believe, here comes Fat Chance.

Bringing up the back we got Sleeps With Fishes,
Put those hands together, You Got Three Wishes.
Hope you didn’t put your money on this last guy
slogging behind is When Pigs Fly.

Betting odds are eight hundred to one,
 When Pigs Fly is surely done!
But wait, what’s this, it cannot be!
Your Mama Can’t Dance, she’s got a broken knee!

When Pigs Fly, he Got Three Wishes,
Past Chance, Cough, and Sleeps With Fishes!
This is crazy, it’s the pony express!
Is This Rigged?, Oh Hell Yes!

Can You believe it, eight hundred to one?
Can you believe that jockey just won?
Someone is rich, and now many will cry.
Man oh man, When Pigs Fly.

Kirk Robin

Kirk Robin

(In the style of an interrogation)

Who killed Kirk Robin? I, said Harold “The Head”
I bashed him, bashed him dead. I killed Kirk Robin

Who saw him die? I, said “Fraidy” Freddy.
Wait, not Again, I’m not ready. Nevermind, I didn’t see him die.

Who’ll be the clerk? I, said Detective Burkes.
If I don’t have to work, I’ll be the clerk.

Who’ll sing the psalm? We, said the Quartet of three.
We’ll sing it beneath the willow tree.We will sing the psalm.

Who will dig the grave? I, said the “Rat”.
In my grave digger hat.  I will dig the grave.

(Bridge)

Wait, is he alive? I think I saw that greaser drive!

I saw him, I did, unless that was “Sidecar” Sid.

So is he alive, or is he dead?  Were you lying, Harold “The Head”?

(Closing)

Who knows Kirk Robin?
I, said the Ghost.
He’s toast.
I know Kirk Robin.

Dinah Mite

Dinah Mite

(In the style of a commercial jingle)

Pop, pop, bang, bang!
The loudest member of the gang.

When the vault needs opening,
just give her a shout.
When you see her spark the string,
everyone get out!

Pop, pop, bang, bang!
The fiery lady in the gang.

A distraction from the cops,
up in flames and smoke.
The cops, they drop, when they hear the pops,
it’s the perfect hiding cloak.

Pop, pop, bang, bang!
The loose cannon in the gang.

But once she fought with the boss,
he told her what to do.
Dinah is no the one to cross,
their relationship is through.

Pop, pop, bang, bang!
Boss will never again harangue.
Pop, pop, bang, bang!
The loudest member of the gang.

For Illustration Friday: Spark

Frau Katze

Frau Katze
(In the style of a Hogan’s Hero)

As ze mob takes over ze city,
up pops a defense committee.
in spite of ze smite, zey take up ze fight,
und vow to show zem no pity.

Hauser Street is ze old lady’s club,
Watch out! Get down! Hind ze shrub!
She’s a pouncing cougar, ready with her Luger,
find another way home from ze pub.

Ze members of ze group all have cats,
wartime weapons, outfits und hats.
Dressed to ze nines, on ze front lines,
defending zeir houses und flats.

Ze Katze Club moves in on ze land,
it’s going according to plan.
When no one is home, zey sack it like Rome,
Six blocks are back in command.

When mobsters just can’t be coerced,
zey know how to make zem disperse.
Zey get zem all sick, brats laced with arsenic,
death by sausage, oh, it’s ze wurst.

Zey won’t rest till ze town is at ease,
and ze city is ridded of sleaze.
Till zen zey strap on ze heat, and hit ze street,
a new meaning to crazy cat ladies.

The Ghost of Jacob Mobster

The Ghost of Jacob Mobster

(In the style of a pompous Englishman)

Chains were rattling, on Christmas Eve night.

A ghost was to come and give quite a fright.

Carrying the weight for all of his crimes,

punished as a ghost, forever, all times.

To warn all the crooks, thieves and burg-lars.

and tell the story of a life behind bars.

Screaming, wailing, crying in the street,

hoping that no one would be his repeat.

No robbing, no stealing, extortion no more,

or pain and suffering would be in store.

While families all gather, in peace for one night

a repentant reminder, he’s just out of sight.

While Santa brings gifts to good kids on his list,

Jacob clutches the naughties, tight in his fist.

His chains are dragging, marking the snow,

to remind us, he came, he hopes we all know.

Ray Gunn

Special Agent Ray Gunn

(In an alliterative alternating alphabetical style)

The administer of audits to

astronautical aberrant assemblies.

Beware, bad beings!  Blasting boundaries

by breaking up brigades of bandits.

Conducting cross-examinations, convinced

of cosmological criminal conspiracies.

The Directing Detective, at the

Department of Dendrochronological Dissonance,

eagerly explores extralegal extraterrestrials

 as the egalitarian, earthling exponent.

Fiercely foraging the future for

felonious, futuristic fugitives,

he gratefully gathers the goods on

greedy, galactic gangsters.

Hopefully, helping harmony here, from

horrible hypothetical hooligans.

He is: Special Agent Ray Gunn.

Specially designed for the Ray Gun illustration blog.

Senor Suspendador

Señor Suspendador

Scoot, Scurry, Scramble!

Sue Spence spawns similar swinging swindler!

Sadly, seven souls site scamming situations.

Shoppers suspect shoplifting; some see stealing.

Suspended somewhere, swings Señor Suspendador.

Señor’s sneaky scheme sidesteps security systems.

Señor skips surveillance, skillfully simulating shadows.

Six savings storehouses succumb. Stickup, stickup!

Scared salary savers stampede, silver stockers scream!

Señor skips showily, stashing stolen savings.

Señor Suspendador slights Sue Spence, saying,

“Señor’s scamming surpasses Sue!

Suckers!”

For Illustration Friday’s: Suspend