Two gargantuan men stroll into the scene silently wheeling out a record player sat atop a solid wooden unit - oak, probably. Radio was all the rage these days but Albino didn't care... That crisp crackle from the turntable was irreplaceable. It took him back to the old days... He missed those times.

With assistance, the record zipped and began to play an upbeat tune. A sound undeniably alien to those in procession of the busying streets but still incredibly familiar to most of us here... It was indeed a banger.

♫   ♪   Jaunty Music   ♪   ♫

Albino stands to the side of the crowd, just out of view on a quiet side road running west from the middle of Corktown, Detroit. He leant on the side of his car - resting, enjoying the music and the last of his cigar while the crowd continued to congregate. It had been some time since the streets had seen any real activity, so naturally excitement was filling the arena. What the fuck was going on? 

The atmosphere was increasing, in volume but also impatience. 

 "What's with all the theatrics?!"

The onlookers grew disorderly. 

 "I've got 3,084 more Post Offices to get to  - can someone tell me what all this commotion's about so I can get the hell out of here?!"

Everyone was in a hurry. No one ever sat down and just enjoyed life anymore... Where are we all hurrying to? Albino pondered, crushing out the last of his cigar. The music began to dull, quietening the crowd somewhat. 

The Philadelphian Consigliere floats into view and takes his position in front of the now silent record player. He pauses for a moment to compose his thoughts, as they always do in such moments. But forgets to unbutton his coat or turn his collar against the window - dozy bastard.

He loses track of thought and wonders what Transistor might have to say about his ability to stop traffic in such a manner. That one hadn't come up yet... He'd better find out the rules on that. He peers at the ground to attempt regathering his point but is quickly distracted when he spots a torn excerpt from the City Rules. He scoffs in disbelief, 'Corktown follows...' and rolls his eyes.

The speech, Albino. He clears his throat but before he can open his mouth, he is once against distracted - this time by the sight of @SonnyFranzese in the middle of the crowd. Al is overjoyed to see a familiar face from the streets. But wait... Albino squints, taking a closer look to confirm his view. 

"You're facing the wrong fucking way, Sonny!" Panicked, Albino calls out. "Stop daydreaming, Don Sonny - you'll get yourself killed if you close your eyes for too long in Detroit!" Albino sighs and mutters to himself. "... Lost cause."

"Anyway... I did come here for a sales pitch, I won't lie to you... But before we get to that, I've just been made aware of an emergency nearby."

Albino raises his right arm, pointing in the direction of 12th Street. "I dunno if any of you have heard of 12th Street... Used to be a beautiful place around here. It went down the shitter..." Albino's eyes dart left and right. "Obviously." He bites his tongue.

"Anyway... There's a fucking FIRE! We didn't start the fire. But there's a fire! I was made aware..." He pauses to glance at his watch. "Some time ago actually, but I didn't want to alarm anyone too soon... Y'know? But then I was thinking... If anyone's got any cats or dogs in 12th Street - you might wanna go let them have a walk..." 

Albino's expression fell blank, his eyes seemingly reliving a past memory for a moment before snapping back to the present.

"I hate seeing dogs burn... It stinks and it makes loads of mess... So just!" He breathes. "Just save your FUCKING animals. Please. Thank you."

The audience had travelled various dimensions of emotion. They were tired, impatient and why had nobody thrown them a reward for simply existing yet?! It was time for the speech.

"Look at the fucking state of this place..." Albino silenced the low chattering in the crowd.

"The Streets are LACKING. Where the fuck is everyone?" He waves his arms around. "The business districts are fucking EMPTY." 

"Most of the businesses were literally built in the NINETEEN-TWEWNTIES. That was DECADES ago! They look hideous!" Albino rants. "WE JUST WON A FUCKING WAR, PEOPLE!" He shouts. "OUR MEN CAME HOME FROM WAR.... TO THIS?!" 

Silence.

"What the fuck is everyone doing? We've got some big joker running 'round derelict businesses paying ghosts! He's EATING MEALS ALONE just so it looks like the mafia still exists!" Albino pauses for a moment. "Actually, I think his name really IS The-Big-Joker!" Albino changes tempo and applauds. "Beautiful." Before continuing.

"That's it - that's the highlight of our fucking world now? No wonder the kids spend their time endlessly staring at flashing lights these days! This world has fallen apart! Lost all character!" Albino spits.

"You should see the thugs they've got running around in Cork! There's one little fraudulent fuck by the name of AlbeeAl - he sticks out especially! The little shit's running around boasting protection of OBSCENE levels while the Left Hand of the outfit is struggling to keep their EXTREME protection fed?" Albino throws his arms out beside him. "THEY'RE THROWING MONEY AT HIM!!!"

"What the FUCK has happened around here?!" Albino blows a sharp breath out of his chest, widening his eyes as he glares at individuals in the crowd. "AND WHY HAS NOBODY GOT A FUCKING VOICE?! SPEAK UP YOU FUCKING COWARDS."

He takes a moment to attempt calming himself down. 'Just a speech, Albino...' He struggles to recite what he practiced in the mirror and marches towards his nearby car, ripping the door open before grabbing a box from inside and slamming it closed again.

"Do WORDS mean nothing anymore?! Is nobody out there witnessing this?! Is it just sleepy fucking Sonny and fake fucking Al?! That's what we've got?!" Albino fights with the box, pulling out a stick of dynamite and dashing back to the front of the crowd.

"How many of you have used dynamite..?" Albino's voice calms to it's original tone. "You can get a lot done with dynamite..." He holds it in his hand and rewinds a few points.

"It's time to bring new life around here. How many of you really feel like mobsters? Be honest with yourselves..." Albino scoffs. "We've become a bunch of losers. All we care about is status. No respect... No honour... No character. This place is going down the fucking drain... Has been for a long fucking time!"

He stares down at the stick of dynamite in his hand. "Not Philly though." He clenched his fist. "I'll do anything for Philly."

"Philadelphia is about to be on FIRE..." He stifles a laugh. "Different kind of fire... But trust me, BUSINESS will be BOOMING in Philadelphia!" He begins to pace back and forth, swinging his arms beside him in his strut. 

"Frank will be round with some flyers soon for you all, but for now please just try and use your imagination... Announcement time!"

Albino sticks out his chest, extending his arms to the positions of 2-and-10 and begins exclaiming.

"The next FIVE new businesses to open their doors in the Philadelphia Business District will EACH receive $5,000,000 dollars - a kind gesture, a token of appreciation. A 'Welcome to the Biz!' From us in Philly." Albino grins, displaying his smashed up teeth for all to see.

"Now once you're part of Philly's business district and Godfather Transistor sees just how capable I am..." He pauses. "Frank and I are, then he will share with us his riches! And WE will share them with you! Because that's how business works."

He takes a breath, resetting his flow before continuing more sincerely, "Not everything is about money, friends. Money helps incentivise us... But it pays to have shared interests. Keeps us all humble. Come consider your options, it's better for us all."

Albino chucks a wink before finishing abruptly.

"Five businesses. Five mil each." He peers over the crowd, hoping even those with the shortest attention span receive the details.

"We look forward to your partnership in Philadelphia."

He looks down at the stick of dynamite in his hand and wonders... Where's Frank?