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.

Duke

Guest Artist: Eduardo Vieira

We are excited to feature the amazing work of Eduardo Vieira on The Daily Mobster. He has generously supplied more than one mobster of his own design, so stay tuned for the continuing story that unfolds between his characters. If you haven’t found him already be sure to find him on Instagram, Blogger, Facebook, YouTube, or Twitter.

Duke

The king, the boss, Don of the east end.

He’s a devil in disguise, and no one’s friend.

Nothing gets by him; everyone gets harassed,

Duke’s not someone to meet at breakfast.

He does what he wants and takes what he needs,

nearly the whole town is down on their knees.

There is one person that stands in his path,

Smiley Carlo, fights back to his wrath.

No need to be a genius, see what Duke wants most:

Wipe Carlo off the map of the east side coast.

Back and forth, the two wage war,

Gaining territory, door by door.

Illustration and story idea by Eduardo Vieira

Writing/Rhyming by The Daily Mobster

Frank “Flat Top” Stein

Frank “Flat Top” Stein

Somewhere between midnight and morning
lurks a looming, lumbering giant.
Following a noise that cannot escape,
to the sound, he creeps, so reliant.

Searching the night for the music he hears,
he won’t stop ’till he puts it to rest.
Pounding the things that gets in his way,
not level-headed, and far too obsessed.

The musical murderer has arrived.
Yes! Yes! It’s alive!

Is he a man or is he monster?
He has hardly a brain in that head.
But one thing’s for sure, he’s an angry one,
watch out, or soon you’ll be dead.

Don’t sing, and certainly don’t hum
hide, run for cover, quick get in.
One thing’s for sure, don’t sit by the well,
and never, play violin.

The musical murderer has arrived.
Yes! Yes! It’s alive!

The rumor ’bout him is quite grimm.
They say that a mad man built him,
from bits and parts that they stole from the morgue.
Put in a brain, and stitched on his limbs.

No matter the story, just beware.
His face is all over the news.
If you see him, report him, and try to thwart him,
his sanity’s only held on by screws.

The musical murderer has arrived.
Yes! Yes! It’s alive!

“Duct Tape” Dave

“Duct Tape” Dave

Well, well, well, what do you know.

All wrapped up with nowhere to go.

Just like your brother, you just had that itch

a secret, a story, you just had to snitch.

Getting so chummy with the cops, you dummy,

got you all wrapped up like a scummy old mummy.

Unfortunate for you, it’s Halloween,

so you’ll go unnoticed, virtually unseen.

Kids with candy, laughing, wide eyed,

stare back at your eyes, mummified.

Go ahead, just try to escape,

walking is hard when you’re wrapped up in tape.

The next time you go and try to confess,

we’ll run you through the embalming process.

Illustration Friday‘s: Entangled

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

Lew Gordon

Lew Gordon: Private Eye
(In the style of a film noir limerick)

He hides behind the tree in the park,
lurks in the shadows and the dark,
following at night,
he stays out of sight,
and he never even leaves a mark.

He’s become the master of disguise,
the privatest of private eyes.
Quick-change like chameleon,
speaks Italian and Korean.
The silent, slickest spy of spies.

Sewing trenchcoats to fit in,
of wallpaper, wood or tin,
hides in the fog,
or dressed as a dog
he has even painted his skin.

So when you feel someone’s  in your midst
know that Lew Gordon exists.
It’s not a mirage,
he’s in camouflage,
And now you’re on his watch list.

“The Barman”

“The Barman”

Coming into town from far around,
all the folks, both clean and sleazy,
Barman, pour another round!
This is a speakeasy, so shhh, speak easy.

Hope you know the password here,
don’t form any lines outside.
Wines, spirits, tonics, beers,
but only if you can get inside.

The bouncer, bar tender, the cigarette vendor,
he’s a one stop libations compound.
When laws are passed that make him an offender,
they take their operation underground.

So drink and be merry, but no need to riot
so check your weapons at the door.
Enjoy, but speak easy, so keep it quiet.
Psst, Barman, can I have another pour?

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