I draw things and put them here. And sometimes I don't. I'm very mysterious like that.
Sometimes those things are superheroes. Sometimes those things are gangsters. Sometimes those things are other things. Mysterious!
Gather ‘round, kiddies, it’s story time! Because I think I’ve found my favorite gangster-related anecdote in The Last Testament of Lucky Luciano.
Once upon a time, when Meyer Lanksy was trying to become a naturalized citizen in a quiet, respectful manner, his friends followed him to the Courthouse…
"We walked into this big room and there’s a whole bunch of people there. … Frank, Benny, Joe, Vito and me spotted Lansky standin’ in the back, tryin’ to look nonchalant and superior. … We sneaked up behind Meyer and Benny Siegel whispers in his ear, ‘Hey, Lansky, I can fix ya up with that broad—the blonde one over there. I hear her old man owns half of Delancey Street,’ and he points at this blonde girl standin’ over near the window with her father and mother. She was about eighteen, but she weighed about three hundreed pounds which is about three times as much as Meyer weighed soakin’ wet.
"I’ve seen Lansky pretty mad in my lifetime, but even when he was knockin’ a guy off, he was never as sore as that minute. With just one move, he kicked Bugsy right in the balls and then grabbed his mouth so he couldn’t yell and make too much noise. A couple minutes later, Meyer walked out holdin’ his naturalization papers and Benny was holdin’ his balls."
The men who will be running a country-wide organized crime syndicate in a few years, everybody.
Dear Boardwalk Empire—you can make all of Season Five about the tedium of Narcisse and Florida if you want. Just fudge timelines and film. That. Scene.
I’m working on a comic about the early lives of Meyer Lansky, Charlie Luciano, and Benny Siegel—how they met and their crawl up through the 1910’s. It…started as something that was supposed to be a short, get-my-feet-wet story about Meyer’s first time gambling, but its…well, it’s sort of gotten away from me. Working title is “Lucky Little Bugs,” though that’s still up in the air. First part (the short story) is “Nickle Ante.” I’m hoping to have at least five or six pages finished by Heroes Con, but we’ll see. Research is really, really addictive. (And as long as you’re researching, you can pretend the whole thing is easy.)
I work at an academic library. Every now and against I get to handle really cool books (one time even a 1st edition of Twelve Years A Slave). A lot of times dry, old stuff (about sugar. I don’t know why).
And sometimes there’s little gems like this.
*joyful pterodactyl noises*
Thank you, Amazon. Shoot, I don’t know where to start first.
This is from way back in Season 1, but wow, Anatole just nailed Meyer in that expression. Sure, he’s on his knees, which bugs me because, y’know, “I never got on my knees for any Christian” and all that (although still better than the kneeling and sobbing scene from S4), but that face. That’s the one you see in the mugshots. That’s the calm, carefully controlled rage Meyer directed at anyone who tried to control him.
I hope these boys fly in Season 5. Forget Narcisse and all the boring mess from last season. Let’s go with Team New York and their catastrophic rise to fame.
Was all set to bottle a #beer today, then realized I only have 11 caps left. Dammit.
BUT look at his face
so proud of his new shield and then peggy shoots him
"if u love that character so much then why don’t u marry them"