Kevin "Biddy Wid" Williamson was recently capture by the Omnipresent and somewhat intrusive GoogleCam (pictured below) as he stood outside the Vercellino safe house in a suburb of Los Angeles. Kevin "Biddy Wid" Williamson is wanted by the FBI and Interpol. The photograph captured him completely unaware of the odd car driving slowly through his neighborhood. He was conducting mob business with a member of the Cordova Family. This photograph, published internet wide on GoogleEarth, compromises the safety of the 'Safe House'.
Charlie "Lucky" Vercellino Williamson, Godfather of the notorious Vercellino Mafia, called a meeting of the Vercellino Bosses to discuss his disappointment with his son.
"What he done ain't so good," he said during their meeting in the basement of the Pizza Factory in Lindon, Utah. The Godfather spoke in a heavy accent - a mixure of South Dakota Lutheran with New York Italian.
"What we gonna do boys?"
The Vercellino Bosses
"Cement overshoes, Utah Lake..... You catching my drift," said the dark, dashing, and secretive elder brother Victor, a lieutenant in the Syndicate. He sat alone in the dark at a table enjoying one of the Pizza Factory's famous bread sticks. He prefers to sit alone, always in the corner of the room furthest from the entrance.
"Come on Pop. He done this before. He don't think. I mean, how could you miss a freakin car with a dozen or so cameras strapped to its top. The guy's gotta a problem with connecting the dots. He ain't the sharpest knife in the drawer - if ya know what I mean."
"He's your brother. Shut your mouth." Charlie "Lucky" Vercellino Williamson stood up and walked to the basement's window. A summer's twilight wind moved through the trees outside the restaurant. The scene reminded him of his childhood in the old country - his beloved Deadwood.
"Biddy Wid is your mother's favorite. You wanna upset Mad Ma Lue? Not me. I gotta live with her. I'll pay him a visit. Get me on the next train to LA."
"You got it Pops." Victor jumped up, adjusted his tie and walked toward the stairs. He stopped to check himself in the mirror by the door. "Ain't nothin more beautiful," he mumbled as he took the stairs two at a time.
"Meeting adjourned. Now get out there and make me some money." Charlie "Lucky" Vercellino Williamson sat back down and waved the bosses away. His soup had grown cold. He picked up the spoon, dipped it into the soup and brought it to his mouth. The basement was quiet. It was his time to think.
