Ok.  So, technically, I’m talking Farmville – not Farmtown – since I, at least, had a brief stint with that Face place app thing…I sucked at keeping the plants and crops alive – smart move, Face place, on the animals being self sufficient or else they’d be kicking the bucket, too.  Anyway, I liked Farmville for all the presents.  THAT part was awesome.

Anyhow, the basic premise for Farmville (for those who’ve never taken the time to, you know, grow and cultivate electronic crops) is this: You start a farm with zero crops and zero dollars…well, no, maybe you start with some dollars because you are able to plow (costs $$, even though you’re doing it YOURSELF) and plant things.  So, you plow and pick crops to grow and harvest them to earn dollars and then, sometimes, lonely animals come wandering upon your property, wherein, finders keepers is the law of the land.  You buy other animals to keep the lonely ones company and then find out that you have to brush the horses and get eggs from chickens and milk the cows and pet the cats and collect wool and caribou fur and so then you have to start considering barns and tool sheds to hold presents and random items like pogo sticks and soon you’ll need plows and seeders and tractors to do all of that time consuming plowing and planting and harvesting FOR YOU…because you’ve got to check on the animals and pick apples and star fruit and bananas from trees and soon, your farm is so massive, it takes an hour just to check on everything.

As for Mafia Wars…MUCH simpler, it seems.  You pick to be a person in “the game” and, eventually, can pick a super awesome mob name….

Sidebar: have you ever done the Sopranos Mob Name Generator?  When The Sopranos was THE SHOW to watch, I was in high school.  I found out, probably from a classmate, that there was this neato mob name generator thing on THE INERNET (THE INTERNET was new and awesome back then) where you punched it your name and out came a mob name.

So, I tried it out.  Now, mind you, this was back when I had a different last name.  And my mob name BACK THEN was Gandhi Mangler.  Which?  WAY scary.  I wouldn’t want to run into The Ghandi Mangler in a dark alley.  The Ghandi Mangler would be totally bald with brown sandals that doubled as throwing knives or Chinese Stars and outfitted in a red, billowing cloak the color of dark red blood.  The cops wouldn’t even KNOW he had whacked anyone – ever -since the blood would just blend.

Then…I got married.  And my last name changed.  And so I did the Mob Name Generator again, thinking a last name like Boldwould certainly have the equivalent to something equally, if not more, terrifying as the Ghandi Mangler.

And now?

I’m this:

Seriously?  Seriously??

Who is EVER afraid of a character for a sweet, crunchy kids cereal (which, ironically enough, was Tim’s favorite as a child)?  I mean, this dude obviously has astigmatism or something, so it’s not like he’d even have good AIM.

I think he may also have an issue with like, anger management, since he has a steam vent and a gauge permanently embedded in his brain.  This could have some potential…

So…just to add insult to injury, I put Tim’s name into the Mob Name Generator…and when his mob name popped up, I about died. 

OF COURSE that would be his name.  It’s perfect.

End sidebar, other than to say: for the purpose of this post, my mob name will forever be known as Frankenberry.

Oh, another semi-related sidebar (which is important to note for some reason): Mob names cost cash money in Mafia Wars.  And though I didn’t try to input my mob name, if Frankenberry costs extra, then there is something broken within the game.  I should EARN MONEY with Frankenberry.

****End second sidebar****

Ok.  To begin Farm Wars or Mafiaville…whichever has the better “ring,” we obviously need a farm as our cover.  Instead of a bakery or a butcher shop, we’re going all out kountry.  And, really, a farm is the perfect front for a mafia.  I really have no idea why no one ever considered it before.  Or, maybe they did and there are already mafia farms everywhere and I’m just too ignorant to know better.  Anyhow, living in my world where there AREN’T mafia farms: First off, who would ever suspect a lowly farmer of anything other than growing delicious tomatoes and raising cows and pigs and whatnot?  Secondly, people BUY a shitton of crops and animals from farmers in normal, daily business transactions, so obviously, you could hide the REAL STUFF inside the sheep’s wool or all wrapped up in the wheat bundles.  It’s like, foolproof.  Also?  Anytime someone gets whacked?…no more concrete shoes and swimming with the fishes.  It’s pig slop for you.  Which? ZERO EVIDENCE with LESS EFFORT.

Now, since this farm thing would probably take off, there would eventually be wars between families…wherein crop circle warnings would commence and those “lonely lost animals” that “wandered” onto your farm?  Probably, no, definitely should not be trusted.  Because if it were me?  I’d put a camera into that doe-eyed lost baby cow and then, since who can resist such a cute little ‘ol thang?…I’d use it to figure out where you’re hiding your goods or to find your weak points or whatever.  You’d be screwed by the Frankenberry.

And as I began to overtake farm after farm what with my camera animals and slick whacking abilities by having your farm help turn on you and spreading lye into your soil, I’d become more and more powerful with more and more farmland to hide more and more sellable goods.  Like diamonds and hybrid coconuts with a softer outer shell.  What?  Hybrid coconuts would SELL OUT!  It’s genius.

Of course, everyone would be trying to steal my secret recipe for the hybrid coconuts, so I’d have to have my own little band of killers like the Ghandi Mangler, who’d have night vision goggles and stalk the fields every night, waiting out anyone who *thought* they’d pull a fast one.  And then, there’d be the Silent Climber.  He’d hide in my orchards with a blow gun and poison darts.  I’d have The Ox, who’s only purpose would be to drag all of the unfortunate souls who crossed our property line to the pig sty for the daily meal of corncobs and finger tips and then we’d have the Hobo Clown, who’d erase all of the Ox’s body-dragging track lines and make them look like newly created rows of corn.  Then he’d stand there, all still-like and silent, doubling as a scarecrow.

And, of course, the only way to acquire such an extraordinary mafia family is to entice them with my crack-laced peaches and promises of protection in my under-the-barn bunkers and loads of cash money from the hybrid coconuts.  Obviously, I worked my own way up the chain by my twisted farmer/mafioso mentalities.

The Frankenberry is not one to challenge.  No.  The Frankenberry started this badass game and knows allllllll the tricks.  So don’t you go crop circle threatening me.  I’ll drag you into a dark corner and beat you with my marshmallow club.

I may not be able to see worth a damn but the great thing about clubs is that they have a wide range of painful and deadly connection potential.

So, consider this your warning from The Frankenberry.

Oh, also: Since, technically, The Frankenberry is already dead, there really is no point in trying to whack me.

Commence evil, toothless cackle.