The Sicilian underworld has finally confirmed long-held suspicions that the prolific mother and baby groups organised by the NCT are in fact an elaborate front for a highly sophisticated criminal network, whose infamous ‘coffee mornings’ are a fig leaf for the administration of a vast criminal empire. Known to the initiated as the ‘Costa Nostra’, these violent clans convene most mornings at hot beverage outlets, particularly those with decent changing facilities.
‘We’re all living in fear,’ said one barista, whose second degree burns are healing well after asking a mother to move one of the 15 Bugaboos obstructing the counter. ‘Our local NCT controls the high street from Boots to Early Learning. The manager of Greggs decided to make a stand and refused to pay his protection money. That night he found a rocking horse head in his bed. The next day he was a Steak Bake.’
The full extent of the NCT’s criminality is still unknown, but funded by the illegal distillation of formula milk, the organisation has enjoyed a reign of terror since its conception in 1956. But rival gangs have begun to mount an opposition and violent clashes between rival factions are becoming an everyday threat.
‘One minute a member of Bumps ‘n’ Babes was sledging a Costa baby for having a sub-average birth weight and the next they’re all pulling Tommy Guns out of their change bags and shooting the place up,’ reported a Cobham café owner. ‘It wouldn’t have been so bad if they’d spent some money first, but 23 of them had shared one slice of banoffee pie all morning.’
After tapping numerous baby listening devices, the authorities believe they know the identity of mysterious figurehead ‘The Godmother’ to whom the members turn for retribution, protection and recipes. But since the new female chief of Scotland Yard returned from maternity leave, she has been strangely reluctant to pursue a conviction. Until someone has the courage to break the omerta, thereby risking death and any chance of their children getting their first choice primary school, suburbia will remain at the mercy of the middle-class mummy mafiosi.
‘I was new to the area and made one of their toddlers wait whilst my kid was in the baby swing,’ says a terrified mother. ‘I had four packets of Wotsits mashed into the back seat of my car as a warning. But they’ve made it clear that next time I’ll be sleeping with the One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish.’