Rubin-Has-No-Life

Among the myriad dupes, shills, fellow travelers and phantom multiple personalities who reside in D-ward is a rather odd fellow who calls himself Rubin, in homage to the mediocre boxer and accomplished violent felon (sextuple murderer, according to some sources) Rubin "Hurricane" Carter. Since the Admou"r is so very enamored of felons, he summarily converted Rubin to Creedmoorer Chassidus, using an WMA to mp3 converter and a catalytic converter along with his standard 110 to 220 volt converter.

For some strange reason, the newly converted Rubin (now called Reivyn), whose name was duly submitted to all welfare offices, signed up for section 8 and disability, and forged on a number of title deeds used for dubious real estate flips, became very attached to the stars of the Creedmoor music industry.

Now, everyone knows that like much in Creedmoor, said stars do not exist. You must understand that the Admou"r takes in over one trillion Estonian forints in welfare cheques, food stamps, SSI, housing subsidies, Medicare and disability per annum. This is supplemented with over three trillion renminbi yuan worth of profits from insurance fraud, arson for hire, cheque kiting, bank fraud, wire fraud, consumer fraud and charity fraud.

And it is for the sake of charity fraud that the Admou"r invented a whole stable of musical entertainers, each of whom occasionally performs for one or more of the Admou"r's fundraisers. Of course, what really happens is that a couple of Creedmoor janitors are paid a couple of cigarettes each to bang pots, pans, drums and stolen auto parts in one of the old treatment rooms which the Admou"r has converted to a stage.

In the meantime, the Admou"r launders money by reassigning subsidy payments or insurance payments from one of his nonexistent personalities to one of these nonexistent performers.

And the king of all of these performers is of course Menivel ben Zimri, or MBZ. MBZ, who exists only in the Creedmoor parallel universe, has had almost a billion Slovenian lira transferred to his slush accounts at the Thirty Second Bank of Vanuatu. And one of MBZ's favorite acts is banging pots and pans to an obscure German Eurovision entry called "Yankel Kahn."

Of course, MBZ, who does not exist, found it very hard to credit the original band, which does exist. Instead, he goes on and on performing his version of the song "Der Admou"r'z a Con", at every pots and pans banging session for every new charity that the Admou"r dreams up.

In the meantime, a less popular act, Pay Tzaddik, is largely ignored, even though their works, such as "Flipped Out Across Boiling Schmaltz" are somewhat original.

But Rubin, you see, is an activist who stands up against every injustice on the planet Mars. So, he sits all day on the Internet, attacking the nonexistent Menivel ben Zimri, and claiming that eleven Moldovan welfare cheques must be transferred to the German band in exchange for use of the tune. As his therapists have reassigned him from basket weaving to Internet therapy, he has even started a blog, called Rubin-Has-No-Life, in which he sounds off like a broken record regarding theft and copying by MBZ. Of course, he cares little that two other multiple personalities are recording MBZ concerts and selling the albums for 100 counterfeit EBT cards a piece!

Needless to say, MBZ and his fan club, consisting of the usual suspects, including Napoleon and George Washington as well as the Admou"r and all of his suborned psychiatrists, psychologists, psychotics, and psychobabblers, are not fazed by Rubin's criticism. So, Rubin goes on and on in his padded cell, tilting at windmills, while all around him, real fraud on a huge scale goes on and on.