Lisa and her Gang

In the annals of organized, none is more terrifying than the criminal gang of Ma Barker *, whose evil masterminding is well documented on the documentary series The Untouchables * .

I first met Lisa and her Gang on a dark and stormy night. There was thunder and lightning, and as what's his name, 'The Mayor', had bullied me against my will to go to London (where Lisa and her gang hang out), I was filled with anxiety and felt uncomfortable. I had to endure the foul cigarettes, cigars, and frequent coughs of whats his name, 'The Mayor', as I sat in the back seat of his dangerously under maintained car that he uses to drive around his legitimate children and expose them to the dangers of second hand smoke and his own reckless driving habits. I put my faith in Set, the Snake God, and arrived, smelling like an ashtray, nauseous from carbon dioxide, and weak from fear.

Lisa has her headquarters in a large underground refurbished factory. As what's his name 'The Mayor', pushed me down the cracked concrete stairs into this gloomy abode (which reminded me of some place that goths would shoot pornography), I could not escape as what's his name 'The Mayor' was tipsy from all the gin he had poured down his throat in the car from a battered childrens thermos. When that steel door, marked with the number 13 encircled by a wreath made of barb wire and christmas ornaments, closed behind me, I could only hope that the instructions I had left with my friends at the homeless shelter (where I do volunteer duty) would be followed if my body was found floating in the River Thames.

The one they call Basil did not talk much. He just sat in the corner, chain smoking Camels and laughing inappropriately. Like all of Lisa and her gang, he wears sunglasses, even indoors, even when the buzzing fluorescent lights grew dim when Lisa was demonstrating some electrical equipment on a captured house pet. He has this habit of eating the ice cubes out of his root beer, and the crunching of his jaws on these soon had my nerves on edge.

Mike is some sort of alienated Physics major, whose only humanitarian thought is to make food from sawdust. He wears sunglasses all the time, too. From his taste in clothes, I suspect he is a devotee of 'industrial goth' music. He drinks scotch mixed with Tahiti treat, a delicacy that even what's his name 'The Mayor' would not drink until he was past his eighth tumbler of pink gin. When he left Canada for somewhere else, the London police force laid off eight constables.

Mapmaster, whose eyes I could not tell you the color of because he always wore sunglasses, has some sort of university connection. He wore a stained lab coat, and black leather gloves. He has electronics for a hobby, and talked, after he became drunk on tequila, about using electo-shock to cure homelessness. To pass the time while Lisa stood on a podium in front of the industrial furnace converted to a fireplace, he practiced with a cross bow. He has low, strange laugh, that I soon grew to associate with the voice that narrates H.P. Lovecraft for childrens storytime on CBC.

Lisa pushed herself about in her wheelchair, with that un-naturally large black cat in her lap. Lisa does not need to use a wheel chair, but prefers to go out in public in such a conveyance in order to run over peoples feet, or apply her skills at pick pocketing. She makes her own pepper spray, and likes to leave out offerings of sweet carbonated beverages to feed hornets and wasps.

As I sat on the floor, what's his name 'The Mayor' and the rest of the gang took turns making fun of me and my challenges in life. The laughed at me when the cat pissed in my running shoes, and told me that I should wear combat boots, like they did. The dense smoke in the room made my eyes water, and they called me a cry baby. It was hard to look at all the architectural drawings of local London banks on the wall, or the stuffed animal tropies.

I guess alot of people want what's his name 'The Mayor', or Lisa to me the next Mayor of Mitchieville. Perhaps you should think again.

I care, and I have the endorsement of Ayn Rand.

I, Fenris Badwulf, wrote this.