Transcript
Kyle Tequila (0:01)
Crook county is released weekly and brought to you absolutely free. But if you want to hear the whole season, right now it's available ad free on Tenderfoot Plus. For more information, check out the Show Notes. Enjoy the episode.
Kenny the Kid (0:18)
You're listening to Crook County. The views and opinions expressed in this podcast are solely those of the individuals participating in the podcast. This episode also contains subject matter including graphic depictions of violence which may not be suitable for everyone.
Listener Discretion (0:33)
Listener discretion is advised.
Kenny the Kid (0:40)
Chicago is Chicago is exciting.
Kyle Tequila (0:47)
This is a 1970s era board of Tourism Advertisement for the City of Chicago.
Kenny the Kid (0:52)
Chicago is fun.
Kyle Tequila (0:56)
It's overflowing with sunlit cityscapes and joyful, smiling faces of young people, families and tourists, all locked in a state of perpetual 8 millimeter textured happiness and wonder of this city of broad shoulders, this great city by the lake.
Kenny the Kid (1:12)
Look north now to that glittering shopper's paradise proudly dubbed the Magnificent Mile.
Kyle Tequila (1:19)
It really does look like a wonderful place to live. A place with endless possibilities where anybody, no matter who you are or where you came from, can get a fair shot at the brass ring.
Kenny the Kid (1:31)
Chicago is something you've just got to see for yourself.
Kyle Tequila (1:39)
But only a few miles from the bright lights of Michigan Avenue is a different stretch of road, a dark corner of the Windy City you won't see in any Board of Tourism commercial. It's a place where the cops are just as crooked as the criminals, where drugs and prostitution run rampant, and where a young mafia hitman they call the Kid is parked outside of a dark, dilapidated apartment building waiting for just the right moment to make his next move.
Kenny the Kid (2:11)
It's about 9pm at night. I'm in an apartment complex in a neighborhood that I really don't know very well. And I'm in. I'm listening to my song, the song that I always play before I do something sketchy like this. And that's Sympathy for the Devil. It just does something to me. I don't know what it does. It's just part of my routine. I sit in my car and I do what I always do. I breathe. I make myself aware. I heighten my senses. My sight, my smell, my hearing. I don't know how I do it, but I do it. As I'm listening to the music, I feel my senses start to kick in. As they kick in, the moment arises. The moment always hits me. I don't know how it hits me, but I know when I'm ready for the moment. Out of my car, walk up to the apartment complex, ring the buzzer. This asshole comes in a buzzer, announces his name, I said, this is Ken. I'm coming up for the coke. Says, fine, come on up. Buzzer hits. I walk up the stairs. I reach my right hand behind my belt, on my back. Knock on the door with my left hand. As the door opens up, I pull my arm out with my.22 and I put it right in his forehead. Back it up, I tell him. He backs it up. His eyes are as big as saucers. I want to say his name, dude, but I can't. Will you edit his name out of here? Back it up to the bathroom. He didn't move fast enough and I wanted him to know I meant business here. So I beat him. I hit him twice, right cheek, left cheek. Backed off, put the gun back up to his forehead. Backed him up into the bathroom. Got to the bathroom. Get on your knees. He wouldn't got on his knees fast enough, so I dropped it with my left foot. I got him right behind his right knee that dropped him to his knees. Pushed him down towards the toilet. Grabbed the cuffs that were in my left rear pocket and cuffed him right behind the base of the toilet. There he sat. I can't remember exactly what I said to him, but I was dead serious what I said, but I really can't remember. Anyway, I waited like I was asked to do. Knock at the door comes and three of my boys come in. Showed them to the bathroom. I backed out because it wasn't my hit, it was just my setup. It wasn't my head. Went back into the living room, sat and waited. Heard some commotion, a muffled gunshot. I know that's the end of the story. The boys walk out. Where's the dope? Ken ransacked his bedroom, found the dope. Got about 3 or 4 ounces of what was called at the time it was pink cocaine. What the hell they call it back then? Peruvian son, I don't know. Anyway, it was coke, all right. Cause that's what everybody was doing back then. Uncuffed them, brought them to the living room, started tearing up the carpet inside the living room, wrapped them up in there and left them until tomorrow. What normally happens is. Or what was already set up was not by me, but it was already set up to have a carpeting company come in the next day, put in a new carpet, take him out, put in new carpeting, lay it. And then me leave. Spent the night, waited for the carpeting people. In the morning, they arrived about 9:00. They took him out wrapped up in the carpet, brought up a whole new carpeting and Padding laid that down. I left the door unlocked and I left. It was the end of him. That's it. Story's over.
