Gangs: They're The Best!

Standards.  Hard work.  Reward.  What does it all mean? We struggle every single day to make something of ourselves in this crazy, mixed-up world and what do we get?  Jack Shit.  John Poopy.   We go to school for years to get an easily burnable piece of paper designating us professionals and in the end we all wind up rotting away in a cubicle, silently twisting and tugging on our own nipples.  Homeless men ejaculating on our sleeves and tree stump worshipers spitting in our eyes.  No loot, no swag, no hoes and no respect. That is unless, you wise up and join a gang!

Shown: Smart.

But where to begin?  How does one assimilate into a counterculture that they know nothing about?  We aren't impoverished or underprivileged.  We don't come from broken homes or inner city dance crews.  So where can we go to maybe get our foot in this very lucrative door.  Why, the local YMCA!

Community centers have been birthing gangs since before it was the hip thing to do.  It provides a stress-free stomping ground for you to test out all of your tough guy skills.  You can meet your future cellmates and sew whatever kind of patch you want on your vest.  (Tip: Flames, Skulls and Upside Down Crosses are in.  Regular Crosses, Mother Mary's and Dairy Lovers Support Group pins are out.)

Most importantly, you can choose what weapon is right for you.  Maybe you're the kind of bare-knuckle brawler that lets his fists do the talking for him.  Or maybe you've always dreamed of sliding a stiletto into the back of someone's skull.  Heck, maybe you just want to shoot an unsuspecting mother in the face with a 9mm.  Whatever kind of death rap fantasy you want to fulfill, there is a cold piece of steel to help you get there.

 

Or a hot sea of flames, but you know, whatever.

After you have decided what your sick specialty will be, you might be wondering how to go from being a common creep to a veteran of gang warfare.  Sure, you could spend your time running errands, mugging nuns and doing similar bitchwork until the top dogs give you a shot at the big leagues.  Yeah, you could also slap a dress on, tuck your wiener back and go pierce a cow's udder with a railroad spike.  But let's be real here.

Crips, Bloods, Latin Kings.  These guys, while undeniable barons of badassery, are only going to demand ludicrous amounts of loyalty and use you to pick up their dry cleaning.  And boy, you mix that up and you've got some answering to do.  If there is one thing we have learned in our time on the streets, it is that if you really want to make your mark upon the earth's crust, you start your own dang gang.

Searching for members?  Look for people like this!

If we know you, and we like to think that we do, right about now you are thinking, "But I'm not nearly cool or dangerous enough for that?  I'm just a loser idiot with low self-esteem and an inherently unpleasant body odor.  Who would be gullible enough to follow me into a turf war?"  And while yes, you are at times a monstrous waste of potential, you are not totally worthless.

In reality, some of the most notorious gangsters were actually closeted dweebs much like yourself.  Easily disposable dinguses of the Nth degree.  But what they've got, is people skills.  Hitler was the ultimate hype man and Capone wore vertical stripes to hide his love handles.  Basically, fake it until you make it.  Then, keep faking it.  Forever.  Or at least until the lie becomes true.

Shit, people still don't know Bowie is an android. Anything is possible.

In no time you should have a dedicated legion of minions to do your bidding.  Whether you let them run around in baggy pants and oversized, airbrushed t-shirts or custom fit your cronies into a slick tan uniform with pentagrams branded into their foreheads, that's really up to you.  Lead as you like.  Be fair, be firm and never forget that you are the leader.  Bank robbery goes off without a hitch?  You get it all.  They want a reward for their labors?  You let them live.

Sure, the camaraderie is all well and good, but the goal to keep in mind is total domination.  A gang is only as great as its territory, and if you play your cards right, you could go global.  Yakuza, Mafia, Russian Mafia, The Brotherhood of Beef.  These are the kinda dudes that really know how to party.  International trade of sex, drugs, firearms and soup recipes.  By this time you should have already taken over a major city.  The rest will just kinda fall into place.   

Place on train tracks.

That brings us to our next point: how to go out with a bang.  Oh c'mon.  You had to know this couldn't go on forever.  For fuck's sake, look at yourself.  Bloated and balding.  Enemies around every corner.  A security system that Scarface would look at and be like, "Woah."  You really shouldn't have turned that Third World nation into a theme park reserved only for you and your thousands of ex-wives and pregnant prostitutes.  That pissed a lot of people off.  The fact that you haven't been ground into sausages and fed to schoolchildren by now is beyond us.

So now you just have to decide on the specifics.  A rise-and-fall story is only as good as its descent.  Its climax and resolution.  Its the parachute bag filled with silverware.  Everyone loves to see a tragic end to an already pretty pathetic existence, so why not give it to 'em?  Hail of gunfire is a classic, but can quickly turn to comedy if it happens in front of Subway.  Prison for life is not an option unless it's some kind of futuristic space prison with conjugal visits from hologram babes.

Precisely.

What you want is something elegant, yet brutal.  Something to flaunt your ferocity while preserving your street cred.  Your reputation as a long-donged, stone-faced, crabshit crazy killer will live on for generations.  Many Made-for-TV movies will be made in your honor.  In the end, we can't tell you what to do.  This is your show.

Our humble recommendation: Ride a rhinoceros into the nearest sperm bank and demand all of the future presidents.  Death likely.  Glory guaranteed.