Howie Carr: ‘Yo Pesci,’ Hardened Criminal or Butler to Fentanyl Boss ‘Fatz’ Caruso?
Before the internet sensation known as “Yo Pesci” is sentenced to prison in federal court tomorrow, he has one simple request.
Can someone pick him up one final delicious McDonald’s breakfast? I’m sure that’s all the 34-year-old jailbird is dreaming of before he’s packed off to some federal pen.
You see, Yo Pesci, also known as Ernest Johnson, always liked to Have It His Way, as did Vincent “Fatz” Caruso, his boss in their North Shore fentanyl-dealing crew.
We now know every detail of the tubby drug kingpins’ McDonald’s jones, thanks to Yo Pesci’s last-minute pleadings. His pre-sentencing memo contains dozens of text messages purporting to show that Yo Pesci was not the big-time gangsta as he portrayed himself on social media.
No, he was in fact Fatz Caruso’s food-delivery guy, in addition to his other menial chores.
Here are some texts from June 2021 about breakfast at Mickey D’s:
Fatz Caruso: “Can u get us food?”
Yo Pesci: “Already did bro I got you two sausage McMuffins two McGriddles and four hash browns.”
That’s somewhere between 3000 and 4000 calories, depending on which source you use for the calculations. As for the grams of fat and carbohydrates, you don’t want to even think about it.
But Fatz Caruso wasn’t done with his order: “Ketchup did u get me Diet Coke(?)”
Because, of course, guys who weigh north of 300 pounds like Fatz Caruso always order the Diet Coke. Always. That Diet Coke makes all the difference.
Yo Pesci: “No I didn’t. I figured that you was gonna grab something downstairs. I’ll go back in line and grab it. Yo.”
The feds are seeking to put Yo Pesci away for 10 years or so on his conviction for being a felon in possession of a firearm and ammunition. And now his last-minute defense, as shown by the text messages, is that he was merely a gofer for Fatz – an errand boy whose real career goal was to become an internet star.
The U.S. attorney has previously posted a collection of Yo Pesci’s Greatest Hits on social media, which I sometimes use as drop-ins on my radio show. The guy is a laff riot. Except for Greg Gutfeld, Yo Pesci is a lot funnier than any of TV’s late-night “comedians.”
Unfortunately for Yo Pesci, that comic persona of his will be coming back to haunt him tomorrow morning at the courthouse. His lawyer concedes as much.
“Defendant has developed a form of internet celebrity by acting like he is a more serious criminal than his record proves him to be. Some of the material (is) simply funny and non-threatening, like the video of a rotund Mr. Johnson doing cartwheels. Indeed, the videos are wildly boastful and unfortunate in the context of a criminal case.”
So is his actual rap sheet, much as his mouthpiece now wants to downplay it. Yo Pesci once threatened to shoot up an emergency shelter his girlfriend had fled to.
He threw urine on two jail guards in Worcester. He was lugged with a firearm with the traditional “obliterated serial numbers,” although his lawyer argues that since he forgot to finish the job, the serial numbers were simply “defaced.” Whatever you say, counsel.
“But the government loses sight of defendant’s real intention of garnering thousands if not millions of internet views. (The government will admit that one of defendant’s social media videos has two million views.)”
Counsel, keep your eye on the ball. You’re trying to get Yo Pesci a reduced sentence here, not a seven-figure deal with Netflix or Hulu.
Let’s return to the texts from the summer of 2021, outlining Yo Pesci’s day job, taking early-morning food orders from Fatz Caruso.
“Get McDonald’s. Please.”
Yo Pesci: “I’m out rite (sic) now. I’ll bring it back.”
But you know how those damn drive-through lines are, especially after last call. Nothing good happens at the Golden Arches at 4 a.m. Now Yo Pesci finds himself caught behind a woman who’s ordering takeout for the entire 82nd Airborne.
Yo Pesci: “Waiting on this bitch.”
Yo Pesci also had to handle babysitting chores for Fatz:
“Come watch the kids. Real quick. So I can handle her before we leave so I’m not bothered. Take them for a walk with the dog.”
When Yo Pesci says he’s been delayed, Fatz Caruso gets exasperated.
“Wtf bro like you always got some extra (bleep) going on dawg dead. I’m getting sick of it.”
But soon, it’s back to business.
Fatz to Yo Pesci: “Get me snacks. Grab me drink. Grab drinks.”
Could you be more specific, Fatz?
“Get me Gatorade. 3 of them. Yo.”
On another day, Fatz is barking out orders:
Fatz: “Bring my inhaler.”
Yo Pesci: “Wats (sic) ya attitude? What did I do?”
Fatz: “Go clean the car that was supposed to be back (at) 10. Finish the job.”
Yo Pesci: “Nobody told me nothing brother.”
Later: “Bring me a cig.”
This was a terrible way, to treat an Internet, uh, influencer. But it has been ever thus in the annals of show biz. The “talent” is pushed around by his manager. I mean, how much respect did Elvis Presley ever get from Col. Tom Parker?
So tomorrow Yo Pesci can tell the judge how abused he was by his boss Fatz Caruso. Interestingly, the one specific prison that Yo Pesci mentions he doesn’t want to go to is in Hazelton, WV.
Guess where Fatz Caruso is locked up, until March 2039. I’ll bet Fatz Caruso would love to be reunited with his butler-valet-dogwalker-babysitter-enforcer for another decade or so.
Good help is hard to find.
