Canton Cover-Up Part 291: Dear Chicken Parm Charlie

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Dear Chicken Parm Charlie,

First, let me say that I come in peace. In no way, shape or form am I attempting to put you in emotional fear, as I know you are sensitive and triggered easily. I most certainly am not attempting to get you to alter your testimony, because it doesn’t really matter what you testify – your whole bloodline is fucked regardless.

With that said, I feel like we got off on the wrong foot. When you messaged me on April 17 and told me it would be unfortunate to write about your son’s involvement in John’s murder, you weren’t wrong. I know you were a big Turtlerider prior to that, and something tells me your wife Julie’s worst nightmare would be to end up on Turtleboy. Now you’re one of the leading candidates for Ratchet Madness 2024. So, you’re right – that is unfortunate.

I’m currently sitting in jail, but it’s not so bad because I’ll be out in less than two weeks. But you know who’s probably going to spend a lot more time in jail and get treated a lot worse than me? Anyone who helped murder John O’Keefe. It would have to be someone who was inside the house when John got there. Do you know anyone like that? Oh right – your son, Bang Bang. He’s gonna love it here, as the COs are big fans of cop killers. Maybe he can reunite with the Advantage Boys and make hardo videograms to Adele’s greatest hits.

You’ve obviously done a great job raising your boys. Your oldest son Mighty Mouse is off living the GTL life, but clearly your pride and joy is Colin. He’s exactly what you were when you were at his age – a drunken, privileged queef, who’s been raised to believe that actions don’t have consequences.

Speaking of that, remember that time back in ‘94 when you got shitfaced and killed a man? What was that guy’s problem? He should’ve gotten out of your way! It’s not like there were other lanes on I-95 and you could’ve just gone around him. You’re Chris fucking Albert – King Dick of Canton. You exclusively use Donkey Kong when you play Mario Kart. If some Koopa Troopa motherfucker gets in your way, you go full Ludacris on their ass. If he dies, he dies. Alberts are allowed one Mulligan murder in their formative years.

Good thing you learned your lesson after fleeing the scene and spending 6 months in jail though. You really showed that you weren’t an entitled, drunken, townie puke when you started a fight with the LoPilato brothers, got your ass beat, and then ran crying to Michael “The Fixer” Lank so they’d be arrested.

Then again, emasculating yourself by crying to the cops seems to be what you’re best at. Remember that time some harmless women and children held signs across the street from your welfare pizza shop and you cried to Ken Mello about it? A lot of grown men would be embarrassed to say they needed protection from a 17-year-old in sandals holding a sign. Not Chicken Parm Charlie though. You got rid of all your shame when you took Julie back after finding out she was getting railed by Officer Wade. You support “back the blue” but the blue backdoors your wife.

Speaking of back the blue, you know what is a great way to show your support for the police? Paying your taxes that fund their salary. I realize it’s hard to do this when your wife is getting brought into court by creditors and has to return items at the grocery store. But let’s be honest, most of the “income” from D&E isn’t from selling mediocre chicken parms, so it’s not like you have to pay taxes on it anyway.

I’ll tell you what a really smart thing to do after your whole family murdered someone – run for Selectman! That way, when you go to the meetings, you can sit there getting roasted by middle-aged women and pretend like it’s not bothering you though. Then again, you let other men bang your wife, so getting undressed by Rita Lombardi twice a month isn’t the least humiliating thing you lived through.

It was great seeing you at the meeting I attended in September. A lot of people would have felt uncomfortable with an award-winning journalist holding a sign saying “blood pizza” above their head for an hour. Not you though, because you have no shame. I’m not going to lie, it was a little rude to shut the door in my face like you’ve done to bill collectors so many times, but I just wanted to ask you some questions. Luckily you had your own personal police escort, which is a nice little perk considering everyone in town funds his salary except you.

 

 

On the way out of the meeting, I walked you to your Jeep and asked you how you paid for it. Little did I realize, your diabolical comeback would be, “How do you pay for yours?” Checkmate! I’d be happy to answer that for you though. Ya see Chris, when you don’t owe a shitload of cash to creditors and the IRS, and you run a business that doesn’t rely on washed up 90s moms buying your pity calzones, then you can purchase these things.

I gotta be honest though – your tough guy Albert schtick doesn’t work when you go crying to the courts looking for harassment orders. That ended when you sexually harassed those women at the Waterfall and started crying in the parking lot when they fired back at you. You’re kind of a bitch, but not really. You’re actually a whole bitch.

I love what you’ve done with D&E Pizza though, and you’ve obviously invested a lot into your business. The cardboard curtains and unwashed windows make the customers feel like they’re in a Brockton triple-decker, about to enjoy a microwaved Ellio’s pizza. And the help is so charming too. Roast Beef Ronnie really makes you feel welcome when he greets you with the Canton Salute and a “Fuck you Turtleboy!” And nothing is more inviting than Jim Farris ripping butts outside on the bench all day, as he admires his ‘05 Prius and brings more shame to his family than Tim Albert.

 

 

Anyway, I get why you’re so on edge lately. I would be too if my whole family was under FBI investigation for a murder. You guys have tried so hard to prove Colin wasn’t inside the house that John O’Keefe never supposedly went inside. But again, I’m not trying to get you to change your testimony. In fact, I’d be happy if it turned out that you lied to the Feds about everything, so that you can join your brother and son in the can. Maybe when they come to arrest you, you can call up Ken Mello and try to have the FBI charged with witness intimidation. Oh well, prison is actually perfect for you – everything is paid for by the taxpayers, while you contribute nothing. You’ll fit right in.