* A man stands at the bar, drunk and unsteady.  He starts to talk to anyone who will listen *

This can be a lonely life, this thing of ours.  You know, I've made a lot of cash, I talk to people in the family, but it's all business, business, business.  I know some of you go to the Bordello - but that ain't me.  No, I just want pals, and pals who care.  Even if they don't care, ya know?  Bust my chops?  OK, I've been a bad boy.  But look at this...  I gotta million dollars.  And I'm interested in what YOU have to say...  So come and talk to me.  I'll make it worth your while.

(OOC - paying $25,000 per MobMail of 20 words or more - best one gets $200,000 - $1M in the kitty, competition closes when the dough runs out)

Madara appears seemingly out of thin air near Bunk's side

"25k for a conversation? Last time i was offered money to talk it ended with Jimmy-Anderson becoming known as a criminal to the warden"

Madara looks around

"I hear that that 'StephenEstrado was a bit of a dodgy character too..."

Madara disappears completely leaving nothing but an empty cookie packet behind

The bunk is a shirt and tie motherfucker.

Also, bunk, the thing I like about you is...when it came time for you to fuck me...you were very gentle.

Enzyte wanders off into the alley to ponder a wire or two

There you go. Givin' a fuck when it ain't your turn to give a fuck.

Bunk is dead, God love him...

Shot by a Durden, or so I heard