It was Middleton that was involved in wanting me working against the U.S. mafia. He was one of them. He knew Joe Pistone and I overheard conversations about how I was supposed to help "Joe", at some point, and it was a forced "undercover" role meant by the Middletons and FBI to permantly undermine me and ruin my life. The Middleton's were friends with Pistone and I don't know how they knew eachother, but then later Mike Middleton wouldn't talk about him or say a word, and was close-mouthed about everything, even about claiming to know him at all.
They were using Joe Pistone for "6 years", supposedly, in the mafia, and he was pulled out by the FBI in 1981, when I was 7 years old. My life became a worse nightmare than before at that point. It meant that for as long as I had incidentally known some of the NY guys, through CIA and other people, the U.S. was using this to try to set ME up and frame me and ruin my life. I don't really think he was undercover that long, because if he was, I was too young to understand, but by the time I was about 5 years old, the FBI told me to "work for them". They actually said either I could stay in jail where they were holding me hostage as a kid, or I could "work for them" and I didn't have any idea what a horrible mistake that was. To work for one of the worst rats that didn't care about kids, or my life at all.
Pistone had a motive for wanting me degraded, and having an excuse to do it. He was also shoveling laundered money from the FBI over to Katie Middleton.
The FBI didn't like how some mafia and people gave me a little money, small amounts, and said yeah, I should be able to earn some of the money from my songwriting too, and they'd "do something about it". That was, until the FBI stepped in to control it. The FBI wanted a real excuse to steal all of my money, and they constantly hunted for excuses. They approached me one day, after their agent Joe Pistone had pissed all over me, urinating on me and getting his buddies to do this to me. It was a bunch of cops, and the FBI wanted to cover for cops and FBI abusing me and said, "Oh hey, those mafia are BAD guys and we are the GOOD guys, and you wanna work for US instead?"
The British royals and Goldsmiths were pissing on me too. I had men urinating all over me, constantly. I was soaking wet with urine and they even forced me to lick anuses with poop smeared on and do horrible things. I was sick of this. They used "Pistone" to cover for a few things like "piss stone" , i.e., "Kidney stone", i.e., "Kid Dabney".
Just as I was uncovering the fucking "Dabney" role to all of this, the FBI spooked over it and said, "Hey! Lookie here, come work for us!"
I said to them, "The mafia says they'll pay me, and they do pay me sometimes, and said they're working on paying me more too, but you guys never pay me ANYTHING, so why should I work for YOU?" They said, "We're the GOOD guys, that's why". I said, "If you're so good, how come you never protected me when I was getting beat up or raped and some of those people are your people, and if you're so good, why don't you pay me? You guys don't even pay me at all and you just want me to work for you for FREE???" I said, "Besides, I see you paying some of THOSE guys money, and you pay KATIE money, but you never pay ME. You tell ME to GIVE you my money too."
So I wanted to know why the fucking FBI was stealing money from me to launder it over to Middleton. Not to mention, Dabney's were showing up at my house to torture me, sometimes with an older clone of Katie Middleton with them, at my house in M.L., WA, in the late 1970s. They were making house-calls to beat me up and torture me and keep me from being psychic. I started screaming about it. It would be a Bob jr., Middleton or a Middleton person, a Dabney, and some FBI shit.
I was living, as a really young kid, with some of the mafia, and some were nice and then some of the others, as young as age 3, they were using the electrocution headbrace on me. I remember being around the Italian cooking, and in warm kitchens and houses with these Italian families, and then I remember being in a bed and sometimes tortured. I once thought I was actually understanding the Italian language. It was similar to Spanish and I believed I knew what they were saying, in Italian. Then I was being driven somewhere and this group was torturing my brains out, mostly the electrocution headbrace--maybe not to have me non-psychic yet, not at that time, but later yes. I remember a Bob jr. around a lot more than my Mom then.
So then one day in M.L., WA, I thought, "Why is Joe Bonanno here?" and the FBI kept going back and forth from my house. I think it was in M.L., and Dabneys were around, talking about how to get rid of me. Dabneys wanted to control me and keep me always without work. They already hated me. So I thought, "Are the Dabney's working with Joe?" and I wasn't sure. Then one time, I saw one of the guys brought to the house and everything looked "natural" and then I realized, "Oh my gosh...why does he have handcuffs on?" So about the time I saw Joe with Dabney and this group, they suddenly said, "You wanna work for us undercover?"
Joe Pistone wasn't even in M.L. then, he was off in Chicago or NY or someplace, running around, doing whatever. He wasn't a main mafia I ever knew or was around. I liked some of the Italian families, but he wasn't one of them. I called him a "Rat" before I even knew he was a rat. This alerted the FBI and that's pretty much when they swooped in and told me to shut up and he was a "good guy" and they wanted me to help the "good guys". I told many Italian people, "That guy is a RAT." I started wondering how come no one else was saying he was a rat, except me. One man asked, "Oh? Who does he rat on?" and I said, "I think Joe Bananas".
One of the Bob jrs. didn't look like he wanted me to say I'd work for the FBI. Another thing I thought was odd, was when the Big 3 died: Galante, Copolla, and Turano, my life got a lot worse. I suddenly thought, "I think I just lost some of my friends" and I wasn't sure what had happened, but some people who hated my guts were jeering around me, acting jubilant. I had thought, "Something is really wrong". A few said to me, "It's all downhill for you now". I had thought things were supposed to be better because of what they'd said, but it got worse for me, and one of the Bob jrs. was really mad at me, but sort of gleeful mad, like, "you just did yourself in" and I wondered if he was even my Dad. Since there's more than one Bob, maybe it wasn't my Dad.
People were going to my house, in the late 70s, or early 80s, beating up on me and sometimes my Dad and I would get scared "they're coming" and then I realized my Dad was more scared than I was and I started saying, "It's okay--maybe it won't be as bad as it was last time". It was Dabneys with other people, Dept. of Justice people. Frederik and his group, and Spencers, also showed up there, along with IRA people.
I actually did get paid some of my own money with one of the mafia men and the U.S. govt. got mad he was giving me a split of my own profits from songwriting, and was saying he'd give me more too, and they set him up to be murdered and even used me.
The FBI couldn't interfere with my money-making except through control of my parents and trying to get mafia families to hate me or not want me to have my own money. They didn't have a legal right to force me to work and steal everything, so they killed people they thought were fair to me, and didn't put people in jail who handed over the money to them.
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