Casino: The New Enforcer

The hit True Crime Movie "Casino" is the focus of my story. All the names in my book are the real names of the real people depicted in "Casino." If you haven't seen the movie Casino, shame on you. Here the story of Angelo Bonelli, a crew boss of the Chicago mob who tries to take back Vegas after Tony Spilotro (played by Joe Pesci in the movie Casino) fucked it all up.

Narrator: The year is 2001, and the Italian mafia is no longer
a public force, but a Hollywood tool to make money of the silver
screen. Or so we think...

(A stout man walks into a semi-crowded diner. He is wearing a gray shirt with a leather jacket with suede boots. He looks around until he finds who he is looking for. He sits down next to a man wearing a suit with a bulge on the left side of his body. He smiles, orders coffee and sits down)

Russo: I thought you'd never show up Angie.

Angelo: Neither did I, so, what do you want?

(Russo takes a deep breath and now beings to look nervous)

Russo: I did my part Goddamnit now you do yours!

Angelo: Whatever do you mean?

Russo: Fuck you, Angelo!

(The entire diner then turns and looks confused at the 2 men, Russo calms down and begins another tirade)

Russo: I know what you're going to say, you're going to
say, 'Hey Tony, get your boys in the D.C. to back you up.'

Angelo: Listen Anthony, I came here because you told me to,
and I owed you a favor. You saved my neck and I gave you what
you wanted, I gave you my retirement. But instead of helping me
out, you leave my brother hanging out to dry and he gets 1,000
years in Marion just like that Neapolitan fuck John Gotti. You
think your people are ever going to understand people like me?
Or the people that really run this fuckin' country?!

(Angelo stiffens up)

Angelo: The only people you could ever turn were people with
no parameters. Sammy "The Bull," Johnny Timberelli, Frankie
Piscano, all fuckin' hypocrites with no loyalty. They didn't
help anything; they just made it easier for people like me to
become like Joe Batters. You think he's suffering? He's out in
Palm Springs enjoying the good life thanks to you. You couldn't
nail him. You fuckin' people couldn't even get Tony 'The Ant'
and they humiliated you. They make movies about fucks like
Spilotro!

20 YEARS EALIER
CHICAGO, IL

(The scene then flashes back to 1983 in Joe Batters' home
(Angelo is having a meeting with the former boss of the Chicago
Mob, Tony 'Joe Batters' Accardo.)

Joe B: Angie, what is going on down there? I just talk to
Frank Marino, and thinks are getting very fucked up down there.

Angelo: You know me Joe, I never liked Spilotro or his crew
from the beginning. Bunch of fuckin' tuned out coke heads. Deal
and die, only problem is they ain't dead yet.

Joe B: Yet.

(The scene cuts back to the diner)

Russo: We have rules, we have a procedure, and you think I
didn't want to nail Spilotro?! Do you know how many people
suffered because of him?! The .22 caliber killer got his in the
fuckin' sticks along with his desperado brother. You forget
that part of the movie?

(Angelo grins from ear to ear takes a sip of coffee. He orders
breakfast then stares down Russo)

Angelo: This is why you dragged me down to Melrose Park, to
talk to me about a fuckin' movie?

Russo: No Angie, I wanted to warn you about those Dagos in
New York. If you don't want to hear it you can drag your ass
back to your River Front mansion and play golf with Joe Batters'
niece while you've got your hand in her goonia.

Angelo: You motherfucker, who told you?

Russo: I have my sources.

Angelo: So, what about those fuckin' Reicher's Island Rats?

Russo: Let's just say that they want to play a game with
you, and it ain't twister.

(Angelo sits back in his chair with an upset look on his face)

Angelo: They want another war; we'll give them another
fuckin' war. I'm out of the fuckin' game but they know that Joe
Batters' replacement has been waiting for me with open arms for
the last seven years.

Russo: So tell me Angie, if you guys already claimed Vegas,
marked your territory and fucked it all up, why should you be
mad if they want to try and get a good hand in Sin City?

Angelo: You just don't get it Tony; we had the land from the
get-go. They got roach-infested Atlantic City and we got the
gold mine in the desert. We already got the land but those
fucks just didn't get it. Alphonse (Capone) sent Joe Batters
and his buddy and they ended the war between Chicago and New
York. We had won! Nobody ever fuckin' messed with Chi-Town
again and it was a glorious time. Then that miserable fuck Tony
Spilotro destroys the empire form inside out, with no help from
the Jew fuck, Lefty Rosenthal.

(Angelo stares at the table, then looks at Russo's bulging badge
and gun frowns)

Angelo: Joe Batters is a smarter man than Capone, but no one
will ever match his way of business. That's all he was, a
business man. Batters is the toughest man in the world but
Phonzi was the fuckin' man. He came back humble after his trip
to Alcatraz, but that scumbag Johnny Boy (Gotti) thought he
could fuck the system and get away with it and rub it in their
face. Well he got sent to Marion, and now he's dead. And so
will his underboss Gravano. These fuckin' Noo Yuck rats never
seem to get it. All they do is get rich, sling dope, beat the
system, only to get fucked by their own crew. But I guess it
works both ways. You see Chicago has always been the toughest
town in the country, and if those guys want Vegas, they'll have
to come to Chicago and knock us out of the box first. They
couldn't do it when it was five families on one and they won't
do it. No fuckin' way. Over my dead fat ass. What I want to
know is who their first target is.

Russo: That's why I'm here, and that's why I'm recording
this conversation. I have a legal and moral obligation to
inform you that John Gotti, Jr. is cutting his teeth with the
Cosa Nostra New York.

Angelo: That son of a bitch is in jail until next November
why the fuck should I be worried about him?!

Russo: His first target it you. They don't want to risk
having you back in Vegas just when they are trying to get in
themselves. Watch out Angie, thinks could get ugly in the city
of the big shoulder.

(The scene cuts to FBI surveillance of Charlie Wags, a former
soldier of the Gambino crew
from Queens. Tony Russo is in a car across the street from
Charlie's house with John
Monteleone, a former soldier under Batters in the Chicago mob.
They observe Charlie leaving his
home and getting into his car as he begins to start his car)

Russo: I told Angelo Bonelli that Wags is about to be sent
to Chicago to kill him from an order from the new Don, John
Gotti, Jr. Our job is to make sure he doesn't.

Monteleone: So you're saying that the FBI wants me to clip Wags
before he clips Angie? I didn't sign up for this Russo. I've
been clean since '90 and I don't want to go back to jail. Joe
B's boys are waiting for me to screw up just so they can clip me
in front of the world like Jimmy Hoffa.

Russo: No one's gunna get clipped, you worry too much
Johnny.

Monteleone: How do you want me to clip this guy?

Russo: He's going to Luchese's place to play poker. Before
he walks in, shoot in him the brain stem and leave him in front
of the bar for everyone to see. We want this to look like a mob
hit.

(A loud explosion rings out through the neighborhood at Wags'
Cadillac is cremated into the sky)

Monteleone: Now that looks like a mob hit...

(Scene cuts away as the ball of fire spreads to Wags' house)

(Angelo is the focus of the next scene, he sits down on his
chair and watches the Cubs game)

Angelo: 95 fuckin' years and still no fuckin' title. Why
can't we get a fucking guy in there to.

(His daily tirade about Chicago baseball is interrupted by the
door bell. He walks to the door
carrying a .45)

Angelo: Who is it?

Man at door: I'm not here to kill you Angelo. Why don't you
open the door and have a chat with me.

(Angelo opens the door and sees John Gotti, Jr. much to his
surprise)

Angelo: Look who it is, Teflon Jr., how bout 'dem Yankees?
Getting spanked every year while their pumping $170 million on
pretty boy nigger fucks like Derek Jeter.
Junior: Enough about baseball Angie, I need to speak with
you.

Angelo: What the fuck do you want from me?

Junior: Why did you kill Charlie Wags?

Angelo: Get the fuck outta here with that shit! I didn't
order a whack on your boy Wags nor do I even associate myself
with those boys. I gave it up, you know that Junior, so why the
fuck would you even question me?!

Junior: Then tell me what Tony Russo told you in that diner
that one night. He told you we were after you but it was a
fuckin' lie. So you got scared and you whacked a made guy on my
crew and for that you should fuckin' die you fuckin' coward!

(Angelo raises his gun to Junior's head and pulls the trigger.
The gun clicks as nothing happens
and Junior is left confused and trembling)

Angelo: Next time Junior, the chamber won't be empty.

Junior: Alright Angelo, I'll take that. Because I didn't
come here to fight. Believe it or not it was your own boys who
are trying to clip you. You might have kept their secrets so
far, but you still know them. And Joe Batters is getting his
balls busted about his parole and about his kid slinging dope.
He doesn't want anybody making any waves for him and doesn't
want you back in Vegas. I came here with a proposition. I want
you to work with me; I want you in Vegas working with the
Gambinos.

Angelo: Excuse me?!

Junior: I know it's not what you always dreamed of, and I
know you hate my guts and all of our boys. But we respect you,
and it would be an honor to have you with the Gambinos in Vegas.

Angelo: Get the fuck outta here Junior, the fuckin' bullet's
in the chamber and it's got your name on it.

Junior: I'll give you some time to think about your options
Angie. You can either stay here and get clipped by your old
crew, or you can come to Vegas with me and be safe from all
those Polish sausage eating fucks. Call me when you make your
decision.

(Angelo sits back in his chair and takes a deep breath. He
ponders his options while petting his
golden retriever)

Angelo: What the fuck is going on? The highest ranking
organized crime FBI agent comes to see me and tells me that New
York is out to get me. Then New York tells me that Chicago is
out to get me. Wags gets whacked who was supposedly going to
clip me, and now it's my fault. I don't know Sammy, looks like
shit is going down in the desert. Either way, I'm now safe here
either. I might as well find my way back to the desert, but not
Vegas. Naw. to high profile, I need a little place to skim and
maybe I can find out if anybody is trying to kill me. I can
still make money for people here out west. Fuck. I need a crew,
quick.