Israel Goldberg, Defender of Disenfranchised pimple-pusses!

His original name (before he de-anglicized it) was George Washingtune—and though he was too young to understand the implications at the time, he was born to a single-parent couple. In the 30’s he was the most ruthless, rootless, toothless, youthful and useless of the organized American Anti-lisping Society.

Goldberg immigrated to New York in 1906. By the time he was 10, he was deeply involved in happy-go-lucky[1] muggings, shoplifting, puppy-nappings and laugh-a-minute mass murders. He stayed in the limelight even after being tossed, still wearing his prison cell, to a depth of 12 miles under the Atlantic. Later, in 1916, he got jailed again for selling comics to senile KKK members who lived in his old-age home. Once out of jail, he joined up gangsters, Bugsy Benny and Meyer Lunchkey who were inseparable - except when apart.

Slavishly driving himself, he worked non-stop up 18 minutes at a stretch to arrive at a suitable nickname. Nothing but the best would do, so he discarded apparently perfect choices like “Snowflayque”, “Pimplepusse” and “Jerk” , he settled on the name that says it all—“Woody.”

Later…

In 1920, he was chin-deep in crime, directing service-oriented activities like prostitution, beheading, and sales of discount body fluids. He also brightened many lives with bootleg liquor and narcotics.

He survives…

In 1929, he became one of the rare gangsters to survive a “one-way ride”: 44 goons riding a Harley kidnapped him. They beat him in waltz time until he was at least 2/3rds dead, give or take 100%. Then, they stabbed him roughly 987 million times with a filthy toothpick, slit his throat as far as the eye could see, and left for him dead -- but he survived!

He never named the men who kidnapped him—mostly because they’d never properly introduced themselves. (He also felt sure it would be pointless since they surely had great names already.)

After-effects of the “one-way ride”…

The assassination attempt sparked the bloody gang war of June 3^rd 1930 between Bowel Newman and rival boss George W Bash. People conclusively identified as “they” claim this war was the inspiration for the world’s largest-selling book by James King: “The Burble”.

On April 15, 1931, Goldberg lured Benny to a Coney Island restaurant and had Albert Anorexia dye him deep purple. Later, on September 10^th, he had four Jewish mothers from Meyer Lansky’s gang drown Heartburn in a pint of chicken soup—an act that finally established that Jewish mothers had, at long last, fully accepted Campbell’s.

Inspired, Goldberg launched the powerful “Keep Chop Sewage Kosher ” Campaign for no known reason.

Then, in 1935, New York special persecutor attacked Goldberg and his flute-knitters’ union. In 1936 Goldberg was indicted, read a poorly-constructed sentence, and sent to jail on a coal-burning jetliner.

Goldberg kept ruling and issuing orders from his cell. In 1942, the luxury liner “Cheapeau” had a flat tire in New York Harbor. Pinpointing the causes was tricky, partly because the “Cheapeau”, like the many ships even now, had no tires.

Goldberg blamed the puncture on a world-wide nasty-people’s conspiracy, and, for his efforts, he was deported. Also, his offices were stripped clean of the jars of his urine that he’d been saving and, even more devastating, his entire collection of second-hand pizzas.

In 1947 he moved to Cuba, and all the syndicate heads came to pay him homage, bow and curtsey before him and show him they’d at least one side of each hand and behind all their ears.

In a memorable incident, Goldberg found he’d spattered his tie while clubbing one of his followers’ heads into a brainburger with a Louisville Slugger baseball bat. Goldberg went into an uncontrollable rage, and in retaliation for something that might happen to him some day, pulled a 12-foot-long eel up his nose. He used a very ritzy variable-speed electric drill to clear the resulting nasal congestion—which cleared his breathing passages all the way to 2 feet through the back of his skull.

Those of you familiar with basic medical concepts will realize Goldberg was left vulnerable to some side-effects from his self-treatment. And so it was: big angry germs infiltrated his skull and wrecked havoc including cerebral gangrene, frontal lobe pimples and blimp-sized blistering.

Simultaneously, pranksters buried Goldberg under 11 tons of classical sheet music causing him severe and eternal death.

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[1] Happy-go-Unlucky!