Breach of Faith

As Nazi-wannabe officer J. Jenkins furiously banged on our locked storm door, I and my faithful wife were lovingly cuddling in our bed, passionately bathed in the warmth of our embrace.  Jenkins was a misguided pawn, trying to inflict the will of our enemy neighbors, an arrogant bald-headed baboon, and his babbling skank wife.  My beautiful wife had just undergone breast surgery the day before, and she did not want me to answer the door and risk being arrested.  I was her ride to and from her medical appointments.  I had previously been roughed up by an officer T. Quinn, who pulled his revolver out, and attempted to arrest me at gunpoint.  Quinn then grabbed me by the hair, and slammed my head into the hood of the unmarked police car, and then proceeded to handcuff me way too tight, and threw me into the back seat of the cruiser.  His partner in crime, Officer J. Marr Jr. was the idiot who suggested they arrest me on the trumped up charge of trespassing on my own land.  After twenty minutes of being intimidated and threatened, combined with being harassed, the two officer's released me, stating that they really should not get involved in civil matters of dispute.  I hope and pray this book generates the resources needed to bring these guilty rogues to justice, if I have to chase these individuals through the gates of Hell myself.

As I reviewed my personal finances, I noted that I had only $6 six dollars in my checking account, and only 50 gallons of home heating oil in my storage tank.  There we were flat broke, surviving on eating soups and salads, when I realize that the way out of our unending financial dilemma, was to write my life's story, so that countless future generations may read and possibly learn from my hard earned mistakes in life.

I went to church the other day with relatives, almost forgetting that such an experience could be an inspirational moment, w here and when I actually felt the valves in my heart dilate, and my heart pump more blood.  The presiding Franciscan monk reciting his sermon said, to forgive and forget thy enemy's, and abandon all material possessions that they may steal, for the good of a relationship.  But I, the legendary Francisco A. Sclafani cold never afford the luxury of forgiving or forgetting that my two blood brother's had conspired and paid 5 assassins to gang-beat me, leaving me for dead in a pool of my own blood, and then proceeding to steal all of my inheritance, fortune, homes, lands, my business, ending the relationship of the woman I had grown to love, and ultimately stealing my ability and birthright to afford to raise my family.

I hope and pray this novel generates the financial resources needed and necessary to bring these criminals to justice for all the material possessions they have stolen from me, including my self esteem, all the while shackling me to a life of poverty.  All so my enemy relatives could pass down everything they had stolen from me, that was to legally have been mine, to their money laundering parasite relatives.  Somehow I had matured in life to realize that truly life is too short to sleep alone.  But I also realized just how many individuals do spend their limited mortal lives choosing to sleep alone. I theorized that these individuals were either too selfish, or emotionally immature to have a mature sexual relationship that involves the required commitment to one's mate, or possibly that they were just too cheap to afford a companion.  True I and my wife are poor, but we share what little we have, and dream that someday our enemy relative thieves will be brought to justice.

Our deceitful relatives had made us prisoner's of our own finances.  Yeah, we were piss poor, and flat broke, but we are in love and that seems to make all the difference in the world.  We are struggling to live a hand-to-mouth existence, keeping the bill collectors at bay.  We had acquired what we needed to survive, not what we wanted.  Simple creature comforts occupied our days, and we dreamed of better times if possible.

I had been in denial for over twenty years, refusing to believe that my two blood brother's, and their wives, who I at one time loved and respected, had conspired to murder their baby brother for paper money.  You see I am the sole legitimate heir to my dead father's estate, being named after him.  In time both of my greedy brother's had learned to fear me, being the sole legitimate heir, and then they learned how to hate me, finally they turned to violent measures, attempting to murder and/or maim me on several occasions, finally having me gang-beaten by 5 paid assassins.  I now realize that both of my brother's had attempted on numerous occasions to murder and/or maim me.  The first attempt on my life was by my second oldest brother.  We both slept in the same bedroom, on two separate full size beds.  My brother made a habit out of getting out of his bed at night and bending over and farting in my face while I was asleep.  I would always wake up choking on his smelly butt, and on one occasion was getting out of bed to swat him one to leave me alone.  But this time my brother grabbed me by the back of the head, and ran my face into the sideboard of his bed, attempting to split my skull.  I survived that attack, wrote it off as my brother just horsing around with me, and to this day carry the permanent scar on the bridge of my nose.

Sit back and relax, as the story you are about to continue reading is true.  This unending nightmare that I have been forced to live for the last twenty years, involves embezzlement, income tax evasion, corruption, and the combined family conspiracy of two brother's and their wives, to murder the legitimate heir to million's of dollars.  I am the infamous Francisco A. Sclafani, and it is my two blood brothers and their family members, who decided one night that I had to die.  So they conspired to murder and/or maim me, by employing the services of my aunt, who is a sister to my own mother.  My aun