The Mind state of a Mobster

Everyone starts off with a gun. It's painfully easy to point and click to make a long struggle into a short drop. It's even easier to kill someone with a phone call; hence the reason I have a job. To be a "hitter," you could have several different motives; most people do it for power.

It is in this way that these people kill to gain rank and find their last weapon in hitter training to be a telephone. The phone is a weapon that's only suited for those who know death and have carried out the sentence but who also no longer have a reason to kill. It's OK for people who are in it for the power but for those of us who enjoy the job, our last weapon is the knife.

Nothing, and I mean nothing, is more satisfying to the professional hitter as the struggle followed by the look of fear and surprise in the mark's eyes as the knife slowly drains the life from the mark's body and into the hands of the knife weilder.

To kill with a knife is the ultimate in professional killing because it brings you as close and personal as you can get with death. It moves you into a warm embrace with a real life escaping soul. It's enough to make you want to kill an innocent but that's against the rules.

Evil doers are acceptable targets though because in that final moment where your hand is over their mouth and nose, the weight of your body pressing their warm spiritual essence upwards, they see the extacy that is their final moments and you get the sensation in your mind that this may be the most transcendant, good and truly purest moment of their lives. It's not always  rapture though.

Anthony Maurice Genovece better known as Tony Mo, once "allegedly," chopped Berto Benece's head off with a pizza spatula for sleeping with Frederico Genovece's sister. He later told Rico Genovece, "upon entering the establishment, I knew he was going to run and as I could not access my gun or knife, the closest thing was a 3 foot pizza spatula so I did him with that instead." Poor Tony could have turned him into the headless horseman were it not for that pesky spinal column which turned Berto into a pez dispenser instead.

Tony told Rico about the ordeal not half an hour after the event over baked lasagna and Pasta Fajole. It is my impression that Rico got his emotional mortal retribution over the hanging spirit of Berto in the clothes and skin of Tony Mo as he sat at the table that night.

This may need some explaining: you see, when a hitter kills a mark, some believe that as the soul leaves the body, it hangs in the air like a bad stench on the hitter himself.  Some might be worried about such things haunting them but there's very little one can do to punish the rich and damned.

Oh! There's an evil spirit haunting me? Either kill me or shut the fuck up and let me sleep.