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Over the past month, citizens of Providence have faced a resurgent threat from organized crime. While mob activity has resulted in millions of dollars in property damage and several deaths, it does have one thing in its favor: how cute the mobsters get when they’re indignant.
“I don’t know what it is,” said the mayor. “I don’t know if it’s that they’re chubby, and I don’t know if it’s that they use adorable slang when they threaten our citizens. All I know is, the real crime would be to deprive Providence of the madcap antics of Patty O’Donovan and the B Street Boys.”
O’Donovan first gained notoriety last week in his attempted robbery of the Third Avenue Bank. After barging in with several members of the B Street Boys, the mobster informed the bank patrons that this was a stick-up. According to police reports, O’Donovan’s associates proceeded to brandish several sticks in the air. O’Donovan quickly realized that there had been fundamental miscommunication regarding the nature of the heist.
“And then,” recalled teller Shelly Katz, "he started yelling in this adorable Irish accent, something about “tomfoolery” and “youse”. He was all jumping up in the air shooting his gun around, and his face was that hilarious shade of red that mobsters turn when they’re angry! I was laughing so hard I almost didn’t notice the three people he shot." O’Donovan proceeded to physically and verbally abuse his henchmen for their incompetence, which only served to further lower the gang’s morale.
The wounded bank manager added weakly that the only thing that could possibly be as excellent as O’Donovan’s antics would be if someone would take him to some sort of hospital.
“Just think of what us cops have to deal with everyday,” said police chief Matt Fitzwallace. “Drug busts, corporate malfeasance, school shootings—basically just a bunch of total downers that have no charming foibles at all. You really think I’m going to shut down the one guy out there who still gets a little thing called flair?” Fitzwallace dismissed the idea of cocaine dealers stepping in as replacements, referring to them as “too scary.”
Last week, O’Donovan, determined that the police take him more seriously, marched into the mayor’s office brandishing a pistol and yelling that “ain’t nobody gonna mess with the B Street Boys, see,” according to several eyewitness. However, his assault was stymied as O’Donovan, disregarding a clearly signposted area of wet paint, slid several meters and was propelled headfirst past the security guards he had garroted into a high-capacity toilet. The police decided to let him off with a warning when they found him still embedded in the toilet twenty minutes later with his legs wriggling in the air. This has been the resolution to over forty percent of O’Donovan’s schemes.
“The fuzz in this town, they’re real cruel bastards, no doubt about it,” said O’Donovan, as he and his associates plotted in their special clubhouse. “But they’ll take us seriously after we rob that nursing home next week! I just hope they’ve moved those giant tubs of whipped cream we somehow ended up falling into the last six times we tried.” The group then voted to buy some deadlier guns and to add some gold piping to their matching burglar suits.
