From Bro's And Ho's To Congress - Taking Chuck Schumer And His Liberal Claques For The Ride Of Their Lives

Alonzo Lucius Washington was a black man from Anacostia, Washington's worst penitential slum, an inner city ghetto neighborhood of pimps, ho's, spinners, and grills like a thousand others from Baltimore to South Central, and yet there was always something unsettling about all of it, the bro' talk, the pimp walk, the bevy of high-shelved, big booty women, the crewe, and the drive-bys.  

It was who he was - or at least what the zeitgeist, ethos, and meme of the neighborhood said he was - but this couldn't be the be-all and end-all, the zenith, the apogee of his life. 

 

'S'up, Bro?' said The Big Man, Richie Slats, the godfather of Anacostia, kingpin, white powder grandee of the projects, just back from Folsom, the federal pen farthest from the 'hood that the law could secure, for Richie had made his way out of every lock up from Bangor to Miami.  His connections were simply too good, and his money stacked too high for imprisonment to be what it was supposed to be.

'All good, Richie, all good', said Alonzo passing the Big Man a draw from opium heaven, straight from the Killing Fields, pure unadulterated H Cambodian gold. Richie took a pull, smiled, and gave 'Zo a bearhug. 'Whatchoo still doin' on the streets, Zo?', the Big Man asked.  'Why don't you come work for me? A real fairy tale, and that's fo' real'. 

Alonzo thanked the man, paid him his respects, and walked the short distance back to Block D, Section 34, Apartment 106 of the New Heights Projects inaugurated in the Mayor For Life Marion Barry days, and now a shithole, a sex by the hour shooting gallery, a miasma of rot and garbage.  Maybe it was time to throw his lot in with Richie. 

His father, Alonzo Lucius Cassius Washington had been one of the city's glass storefront black poster boys, hired by banks to sit in plain view of the street to show how integrated they were, raking in the change while making big money on the street, taking it from dude white boys with Bombay Black and Panama Red, a good hang time while the brothers did their thing in Watts, Detroit, and Newark. 

Times had radically changed since then, and with the affirmative action fairy tale, black men hastened up the corporate ladder with absolutely nothing but the street in their resume. Somehow the ofays from uptown wanted some down to earth ghetto reality, and the homeboys were quick to jump. 

Pharoah Jones hooked up with a Congressional bitch from Delaware who needed some color in her cabinet, and during his tenure he managed well, quite well, all tricked out and ghetto like the lady wanted until she and he got tired of the affair and went their own ways. 

Times were different now. 'We don't do that affirmative action shit no more' said LaFarge Owens. 'It's big time money with the Chief', the new President who in one fell swoop did away with affirmative action, woke, feel-good hiring and opened his doors to entrepre-fucking-nures, men of any color who knew how to make a buck, the American dream of economic opportunity, prosperity, and the good life. 

Now, the Office of the President knew a flim-flam scheme when they saw it, but in the spirit of entre-fucking-preneurial opportunity and the new frontier of American private enterprise, they accommodated Alonzo and his Armani-outfitted shysters from the 'hood.  The Ponzi scheme they presented was as transparent as fine Moroccan cotton, but attractive from a bottom line perspective.  This ghetto refuse might very well take Chuck Schumer and his claques for the ride of their lives with some nice benefits for the Office as well. 

 

'Take 'em for a fucking ride', said Talbot Prentice, and a plan was hatched to snooker the swells of the Democratic party good.  Schumer, already in arrears for secret child support, and pending bankruptcy because of bank 'overdrafts' was the target, a rube, a clueless john, a feckless idiot who had made his living pandering to the woke left and making squandered millions; and mirabile dictu he fell for it hook, line, and sinker. An old Jewish moneylender caught in his own greedy trap. 

All was fair in love and war, Prentice and the President well knew, and what he had suffered at the hands of the Democratic bottom-feeders needed retribution.  Years of villainy, lawfare, and insidious ad hominem attacks could not go unpunished; but hanging in rightful execution was too good for them.  So the underhanded brilliant scheme of Alonzo Washington, his bro's, and the officers and good people looking out for the President's interest set all in motion, 

First was Anastasia Perkins, a drop-dead beautiful mulatto from New Orleans, friend of the President and dutiful political supporter, who was to be first on the scene - a wet and willing seductress that the Senate Minority Leader would be at great pains to refuse; and refuse he did not, so taken was he with the fact that finally he was living the life of 'diversity', not just talking about it. Hidden cameras, spy-craft and AI locked the door.  Schumer was theirs ipso facto, de gustibus non disputantum est. 

Then was the network of Wells Fargo, Citibank, Vanguard, and Aruban offshore banks, a marvelous nexus of legal and extra-legal shenanigans that compromised the dopey, confused and totally outflanked and outgunned Senator before he knew what was happening. 

Before the day was out his net worth, promised to him to be in the hundreds of millions was zero, zilch, nada.  The man was emptied, ruined and stood on the podium the next day as naked as a jaybird. 

He had been taken for the ride of his life and left on the curb.  Not only was his bank account emptied and transferred into the accounts of the President and his new associate, Alonzo Washington, but the leader of the opposition was ruined, an emasculated political puppet. 

Alonzo was a reasonable, temperate, and patient man, not one to return to the 'hood and boast how he took down the Minority Leader of the Senate.  He simply returned to business as usual, pimping and whoring, a bit on the side with the drug trade but under the radar as a conservative operative, at the request of the Administration but never beholden to them. 

'White folks are made of money', he said, 'all for the asking' and so one of Washington's entrepreneurial success stories writ - the acumen and brilliance of the new Godfather of the Slums.