First word: Murder. Last word: Boat. If this is the last post then the last word is: Murder.

A Nightmare on Elm Street, Roxborough - A Philadelphia Story Competition

Deadly read the headline of the days newspaper, "Murder in Roxborough" it read. He threw it across the desk exasperated. There was a knock at the door and one of his most trust men entered. He handed Deadly a report before nodding his head respectfully and leaving.

Deadly sat in his office reading over the report. The cities all across America had been expanding and it had been necessary to divide the city up into districts, each one headed up by it's own Godfather. There were still two districts in Philadelphia which it was proving tricky to work their way into. The law enforcement there was resisting all attempts at them moving into the turf, but he knew it was just a matter of time before they made real progress into it. He also knew the longer it took, the more local criminal gangs would grow within them.

The part of the report that really bothered him told of how the people expanding the city had disturbed a Godfather Burial Site. This was a massive disrespect to them in their deaths, and even though they had all been long buried he knew it'd bring nothing but trouble.This burial site was the final resting place of all the legends in this thing of ours, and although Deadly wasn't a superstitious man he knew that disturbing the spirits of these Mafioso was a very bad idea indeed.

He walked over to his cabinet and brought out a bottle of whisky and a glass. He sat back down in his chair and poured a glass, drinking it in one go. As he laid back in his chair a white apparition appeared in front of his eyes, screaming a deafening scream. He jerked backwards and the chair tipped backwards with him, he hit his head on the way down and fell unconscious. As he laid on the floor, the nightmare began...

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Deadly rubbed his eyes, he was sure he'd just seen a ghost. He picked himself up and looked around the room, everything looked normal apart from the smashed bottle of whisky and his chair on the floor. He picked up the chair and called for someone to come clean up the mess from the whisky.

There was no reply.

He walked over to the door and opened it. Walking through, he realised that there was no-one here. He walked back into his office and picked up the phone, but there was no noise coming from the earpiece and no matter what he tried it wouldn't work. At this point in time he started to fear the worst, that someone was attacking his Headquarters. He opened the top drawer of his desk and pulled out his trusty Smith and Wesson revolver before heading out of the door. As he walked through his Headquarters he noticed that the whole place was completely deserted, there was not a soul anywhere to be found. He made his way outside and found the streets to be exactly the same.

"What the fuck is going on?" he said to himself. He turned round, looking for any sign of life and seeing nothing. He turned back round to face his Headquarters and saw someone standing in the doorway just before they turned and walked in.

"Hey you, wait!" he shouted to no effect.He made his way back to the Headquarters and walked through the door. He took a few steps forward looking for the mysterious figure that he had seen...

BANG!

Deadly jumped at the noise and spun around with his gun raised only to see that the door had slammed shut. He moved back to the door and pulled at it to no avail - he was locked in. He tried a couple of windows as he made his way to his office, but he already knew they would be locked too. He noticed that there was still no sign of life anywhere in the place and Deadly was unsure what the hell was happening.

After checking to make sure his gun is loaded Deadly slowly pushes his office door open, dreading what he might find on the other side.

CREEEAAAAK...

Deadly scanned the room as the door creaked open, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. The whisky bottle was somehow back on the table and completely unharmed, with two glasses on the desk. The chair slowly spun around to face him, and a woman's face stared back at him. He didn't recognise her. She had a cat in her lap which she was stroking whilst she stared at Deadly, completely unblinking.

"Who the fuck are you? What's going on here?" he growled at her. She smirked at him, and the cat turned and stared the same unblinking stare at Deadly before she replied.

"Who the fuck am I? I'll tell you who I am. I'm one of the people whose grave was disturbed by the growth of YOUR city. You allowed these people to keep building further and further out, without a care in the world to what you might uncover. Well, until this problem is fixed myself and the rest of the people buried there will be haunting you and the rest of your city."

Deadly decides he's heard enough and fires a bullet at her head. It passes straight through her, through the chair and hits the wall behind. The cat leaped onto the table, crouched down and hissed at him. He didn't take threats well, and he figured he could work out what was going on by himself. He walked over to the slumped body and went to search her pockets for any clues to who she was, but as he reached toward it the body vanished.

"You didn't think it would be that easy did you?"

Deadly spun around in complete shock, seeing her stood up at the door holding the cat again as if nothing happened. He had assumed she was just high on some new drug, but clearly there was much more to this than met the eye. He sat down in his chair and poured himself a whisky before he spoke.

"Alright. You've got my attention. Tell me what's going on here, this place seems... different."

She frowned at him before replying..

"First things first, my name is Aurora. You may be wondering why out of all the people buried there, that it was me that came to you. Well you may not know this, but in fact one of your ancestors played a big part in the removal of my crime syndicate. I couldn't pass up the opportunity to get little payback. Seeing your fear has certainly given me some pleasure."

Deadly drank more of the whisky. He had read his ancestor's journals and knew she was speaking the truth, he also knew he couldn't hurt her and began to wonder where this was headed.

"The reason this place seems so different is because you are actually still unconscious on your office floor. This is all in your head, but don't think that makes this any less real. Until you fix what has been damaged, your people will be haunted by all of us."

There was barely any time for the words to sink in before Deadly felt the chair tip forward. All of a sudden the room had disappeared and he was falling into blackness. He saw his office beneath him for a split second before he hit his unconscious body which was still laying on the floor...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Deadly jumped as he awoke from his nightmare. He slowly got up and picked his chair up - there was no bullet hole now. One of his men came running into the office at that point with a concerned look on his face.

"Godfather! Are you okay? I heard a bang!"

Deadly nodded to him before replying "I just knocked the bottle of whisky off my desk, that's all. Nothing to worry about." Had it all been just a nightmare? He opened the top drawer of his desk to make sure his gun was still there waiting for him, when he saw a piece of paper laying on top of it that said: THE NIGHTMARE WAS REAL. AURORA.

He slammed his drawer shut as he realised what was going to happen to the rest of Philadelphia's mobsters. He picked up the phone and started making frantic calls. He knew some of his men were going on a boat trip, and he wanted to warn them before they left.

First word: Boat. Last word: Alcohol. If this is the last post then the last word is: Murder.

Ladyfighter is standing at the harbor waiting for the boat to bring her across the Delaware River. Arriving on the other side, her driver already opened the door of the car and brings her home.

Ladyfighter sits on her couch enjoying her glass of wine and thinks about all the new information she got at the city meeting. The plans for taking over Roxborough were slightly delayed and everyone got instructions to stay focused on what happened in their districts. DeadlySin's face was really worried when he told us to stay focused. Ladyfighter was wondering what happened and why he was so worried. Now since this meeting took a long time and Ladyfighter drinking wine made her very sleepy. Her eyes closed and she fell asleep.

The journey started on a Sunday in April. Closing the door and looking back one more time, Lovegun started to walk to the bus station. The rain was even harder than the days before, but Lovegun did not notice. The bus to Philadelphia arrived and Lovegun stepped inside and found a place near the window.

From her backpack she took a bottle of water and drank a bit. Then she allowed herself to think about the last few days. It started when she found out she was pregnant. Of course she was happy with the news and ran to her boyfriend Premeir, Godfather of New York, wanting to share the good news with him.

When she opened his apartment she smelled something strange. She was thinking it might be Marijuana, but then again, Premeir did not use drugs. The leftovers from dinner were still on the table, only the knife and spoon lay on the plate. The fork was missing. Also there was an empty bottle of Whiskey. Now she got worried. She called Premeir’s name, but there was no reply.

On her way to the bedroom she saw the missing fork on the ground. She picked it up and screamed and let it fall on the ground again. The fork was covered with blood.

She trembled all over, but slowly walked to the bedroom. What she saw there was beyond her imagination, something you only see in movies. Premeir was laying on the ground with a pistol in his hand. His head was not quite a head anymore. He obviously shot himself through the head. On the bed was a dead naked girl. This was too much for Lovegun and she ran outside and started to scream in the streets. Neighbours alarmed the police and when they arrived they took Lovegun away from the scene and brought her to the police station.

The police officer gave her some coffee and told her, the dead girl was known to the police. She was a hooker and was captured many times for dealing marijuana in the streets. As they saw the crime scene they think the girl died of an overdose of drugs in combination with the Whiskey. The police tried to calm down Lovegun to tell her that Premeir probably did not want her to find out he was dating a hooker and that the hooker even died in his apartment, so he shot himself.

The bus arrived in Philadelphia and Lovegun took a tissue to wipe off her tears and blow her nose. Then she took a little mirror out of her handbag and fixed her make-up. Lovegun stepped out of the bus and smiled. This was going to be her new home, where she would raise the little baby she was carrying. A street sign pointed her into the direction of her new house. ELM STREET - Roxborough.

Ladyfighter woke up and felt a bit strange. She looks at the empty glass of wine, wondering if someone had put a drug in it for her to go to sleep.

Then she remembers her dream and the questions quickly rise in her head. Why had she been dreaming about a Godfather who was already shot two years ago? And why was the name Elm Street in Roxborough mentioned?

Despite of the late hour, Ladyfighter decides to call her Captains from South Philly District and their hands to the Headquarters. She walked out of her office and knocked on Citizen's door. "Wake up man, your presence is needed in the meeting room. I want you there within 5 minutes".

As soon as the Captains and their Hands of her district enter the meeting room, she explains what was said in the Philadelphia Godfather meeting and what she just experienced in her dream. You could see everyone looking worried and wondering what was going to happen in the near future.

Only Citizen, the one who always looked at situations with an open mind, spoke up and said: "Ladyfighter, you are seeing zombies in your head. And as I see you almost emptied a whole bottle of wine, I cannot think otherwise that you are a bit tipsy. Nothing to worry about. I blame the alcohol for your dream."

First word: Alcohol. Last word: Detective. If this is the last post then the last word is: Murder.

Tyrion checked his watch. 23.48, almost time. "God I wish I hadn't had so much alcohol before coming here, I really need to piss."

There were rumours of a spy from Germantown being inside South Philly. Worse, the rumours were that they had already infiltrated one of the South Side family’s and were planning to cause internal unrest before launching an all out attack. Aidan had asked Tyrion to meet an informant at the old Steelworks factory at midnight to find out the name of the spy 

Another glance at Tyrion’s watch showed the hour was here, bang on midnight. No sign yet of the informant, though. Suddenly Tyrion heard a noise coming from behind him, too late. As the lights went out he thought he saw a familiar face, one that hadn't been seen around these parts for a long time now 

Tyrion woke with a thumping headache, his head pounded as though he were drinking Arbor gold all night, but since leaving Kings Landing for the bright lights of Philly he hadn’t touched a drop. A flash of the previous nights events hit him, that face! It couldn't be? He lifted his head from his pillow and realised he wasn't in his own bed. He wasn't even in the HQ. At that moment, a door creaked open and the gorgeous blonde from last night appeared carrying a tray. 

“Good Morning Tyrion. Would you like to break your fast with me? I can tell from the confused look on your face you know who I am, still, let me introduce myself, my name is Alabama Worley. Godmother of Detroit.”

“It’s not possible. You died?! A raven reached me with the news many moons ago. Your city was shot down by your allies as they believed you had lost control. It was also believed that you allowed your members to sneak around the city shooting at bodyguards for sport, and when confronted with evidence your own people conspired to hide the truth.”

“Don’t believe everything you hear, Tyrion. The deaths of those bodyguards had nothing to do with me, any members of my city that were responsible acted alone and without my authority. The other part is slightly true, though. Some people had become rather too big for their boots and caused problems with our cities due to their outspoken nature in the streets. They didn’t tell any lies, just some folk can’t handle the truth. Still, my death was justified, in This Thing of Ours at least, as the moment you lose control of your city as a Godfather, your no longer fit for purpose and deserve to be removed.

“Wait.. Your death?! So you ARE dead? Is this some sort of jape? I demand to know where I am!”

“Oh Tyrion, fear not. If I was here to do you any harm would I be offering food and water? I’m simply part of your over active imagination. Whomever it was that has knocked you unconscious must have resembled me and sparked this mummers farce. I’m sure you’ll awake soon enough, hopefully alive and well.”

Tyrion’s head began to pound even louder, a warmth spread across his groin and he could hear a distant voice calling his name 

“TYRION! Wake up you useless fucking IMP! I send you to get vital information and I find you sleeping in an alleyway in your own piss. Call yourself my Right Hand fucking Man!”

“Wh.. Aidan? I’m having a very strange time right now boss, please stop the shouting. I came here to meet the informant as you said; only I was struck in the head with something right around the time of the meeting. We’ve been sold out! We better warn DeadlySin, who knows how many bastards from Germantown have made their way into our Forts.”

“Stop right there little man. There is no need for panic, despite your sleeping on the job it seems you somehow managed to still fulfill my task.”

Aidan produced a sheet of paper with the name CerseiLannister  written on it

“I found this pinned to that hideous face of yours, might be your attacker and the informant were the same person and didn't wish to reveal their identity. We now know that fucking sister of yours has sold us out.”

"Sorry Tyrion, but you know what this means now. We need to have her removed and quickly, we can't let them know we are onto them so it needs to look like she was killed by the Cops. Luckily I still have that Detective in my pocket"

First word: Detective. Last word: Violent. If this is the last post then the last word is: Murder.

First word: Detective. Last word: Violent. If this is city's last post, last word is: murder.

I was reading the latest detective novel "The Murder of Roger Ackroyd" by the new author Agatha Christie when I heard a call from the kitchen.

"What's that Ma? Dinner's ready? Awesome"

I ran to the kitchen in anticipation of my evening meal only to slip on a bit of Ma's grease from the fry-up on the floor.

*SMACK!*

Ma lets out a shriek as my head hits the floor and I quickly slip off into unconsciousness

..........................................................................................................

"mffmmbbbmmm" a voice mumbled as my eyes tries to regain focus

"mffmmdown" by now I realised that whoever the blurred figure with another figure around half his size stood next to him was, was saying my name

"Countdown! You ok boy?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm ok... just my focus wont come back" I mumbled incoherently

*I rubbed my eyes furiously, trying to get my vision back*

"What the... no way! No fucking way! It can't be..."

"What you talking about crazy?" The voice barks... now sounding slightly impatient.

I regained full focus, opened my eyes and recoiled in horror at the sight before me. I had seen pictures of this man before, although never met him. Photo's had been passed down from generation to generation throughout my bloodline's history until my father gave them to me and explained to me who he was... and WHAT he was. The man in question was CrossDeLena the head of the Czylharz family which we see many bloodlines today still carry the tag of, instantly recognisable from his haircut, which was effectively an airstrip for planes to land on... shaved down the middle with hair down either side. The pint sized wonder at the side of him, was of course his midget wife... of which he had many.

You see, for all Cross' great qualities, he always had one weakness... and that was that he was freaky about... the freaky. Irksome stories were also passed down about that other side of him. I've heard stories of goats, trees, amputee's and even a member of his family having a travelling flea circus!

"C'mon man, take my hand and get up off the ground. I will only offer it once, I have a reputation to uphold around here y'know?" Cross said as he stretched out his hand for me to grab, I grabbed it in a daze and stood upright, still aghast at what was being laid before me

With my head in my hands in the back of Cross' vehicle I stumbled around in my mind trying to figure out what had happened here. What the fuck was I doing with CrossDeLena? How did he even know who I was? Where was I going... wait, thats a good question!

"Where are you taking me Cross?"

"Back to HQ of course buddy. We'll get you bandaged up and some rest"

"HQ? But I work for Godfather DeadlySin! I'm not sure he'd be too happy about one of his getting help from a rival faction!"

"Godfather...? DeadlySin...? There ain't nobody named DeadlySin around these parts and there CERTAINLY ain't Godfathers! Everyone who got close was gunned down before their time such are the troubled times we live in. Now... I'm beginning to tire of these silly remarks so be quiet and rest until we get you patched up."

I noticed the impatience in his voice this time and decided to take heed considering his midget wife was in the back with me, eyeballing me as if she wanted to slit my throat. I must have dozed off for a short time because the next thing I remember is having the door opened for me to get out of the car. Trying to shield myself from the huge gusts of wind, lashed together with heavy droplets of rain I didn't notice it at first... it was only when I got to the black iron gates that I noticed that behind the gates was a building which seemed to be... moving kind of rhythmically back and forth.

"what the fuck... is that... is that a bouncy castle Cross? Is your HQ a fucking bouncy castle?"

"I find it lightens the mood! And less of the language please"

Open mouthed I am led to what is described as a door, but it was more a type of safety netting so people didnt fall out of the inflatable house.

"Now remember, shoes off before entering the HQ"

After everything I'd seen so far, taking my shoes off was the least of my worries so I did it without question and proceeded through the door. What I was about to see I had no idea what to expect... the only was I could describe it one word is... NUTS.

The instant I was through the safety netting an owl whooshed past my head, making my hair stand on end. As I ducked my head I almost tripped over over-sized set of marbles left on the floor. There were lions doing handstands, eagles doing backstroke in a swimming pool, a totally limbless man showing people how he rolls, lights and smokes his own cigarettes, siamese triplet girls shooting some pool and the bar...man was a dog who Cross had taught to pour pints.

There were so many things going off around us I couldn't possibly remember them all in one go.

"I... need... a drink, Cross."

"Sure thing, Lassie, come here boy! A double of your finest whiskey please Sir"

The dog could actually do it by the way... i watched as it laid out 2 shot glasses and proceeded to pour from the whiskey bottle... sideways in it's mouth until the shot glass was full. Not a drop spilt.

"I don't feel too good Cross"

"You had a nasty bump there pal, you'll be right as rain after the surgery!"

"SURGERY! WHAT? I thought you were just going to bandage me up!"

"Yeah, but then I thought... Countdown would look so much better with giraffe legs. You can be our lookout then for the upcoming war with Roxborough and Germantown then! I want what they got and they aint gonna lie die for it, they'll come just as hard back at us which means I need someone tall... to lookout! So i chose use to have some giraffe legs implanted into, don't worry I'm assured it's perfectly safe"

Panic mode had now fully consumed me and I got up off my stool and turned to run... only I hadn't realised I was sat right behind one of the support beams to the bar.

*SMACK!*

I awoke to my Ma gently slapping my face, crying and begging for me to come round. I opened my eyes slowly and gave her a hug to let her know I was ok... I was also glad that I was back to reality and moved to the bathroom as quickly as I could. What proceeded was by no means pretty.

The phone rang and Ma tapped on the bathroom door...

"Son, it's Godfather Sin, he would like a word with you"

I grabbed the phone and greeted my boss, he seemed a little on edge and just said to me "Roxborough and Germantown have grown too big without showing us some respect, it's time went and taught them a lesson"

It spooked me for a second that CrossDeLena had mentioned these 2 districts during my unconsciousness, but i quickly shook it off as my mind had to be clear for this.

I knew exactly what he meant, so I grabbed my tools rather than my gun. I knew what the boss wanted... this wasn't a slaughter, it was a torture. We were about to take out a well respected member of the 2 named districts in the most violent way possible.
 

First word: Violent. Last word: Roses. If this is the last post then the last word is: Murder.

Pacing up and down in her office, Bunny was fighting the violent cravings building inside her. Just one small fix she thought; walking over to her top desk drawer she opens it to grab her emergency carrot only to find it’s not there. Feeling slightly light headed and nauseous Bunny let out a desperate almost strangled scream and races from her office to her HQs cellar. Throwing the door open expecting to find her thousands of carrots she instead finds herself facing an empty room. Taking a step backwards Bunny closes the door, shakes her head a little and reopens the door…it was still empty.

Bunny was living a nightmare, her beloved carrots had been stolen right out from under her nose. Turning round to raise the alarm Bunny comes face to face with a very strange sight. A man with a very large yellow top hat, a bright green coat and blue trousers. He was stirring a cup of coffee with a carrot! Drawing her gun Bunny points it at the intruder holding a carrot “Who are you!?” she asked. The man turns his head to the side, takes the carrot from his coffee and twirls it around in front of her face “Words have meaning and names have power or is it words have power and names have meaning?.” With a thoughtful look he takes a bite from the carrot, “Oh yes, my name” spinning on the spot, he grabs the back of his coat and tugs it around to the front “CrazyNine, see” he steps forwards shoving the label in his coat in her face.  Hearing someone whisper her name, Bunny looks around but cannot see anyone other than CrazyNine there.

Poking her in the shoulder with a carrot to get her attention, CrazyNine continues “Now as I was saying, I'm investigating things that begin with the letter C. I was sitting in my old HQ Royal Hat Room, or HQRHR for short, when I heard the most ungodly scream over a carrot. These fit perfectly with my investigation so I took them, along with your coffee”. CrazyNine digs around in his pockets for a moment before grabbing a handful of sparkly orange dust and sprinkling it all around them “Now if you would follow me” he spins on the spot while hopping then skips out of the room, with one last look over her shoulder at where her carrots should be Bunny follows him knowing if she wants to see her carrots again she has to.

Following the orange dust up the stairs Bunny is sure she hears someone saying her name again but still can’t see anyone. When she gets to the top of the stairs she sees CrazyNine is sitting on the bar, his cup of coffee lifted to his lips by his feet while he takes his hat off and grabs another carrot.

“My HQRHR was a very nice room, but over the last few months it began to have a sort of smell in there”. Leaping from the bar CrazyNine grabs the chandelier and swings to the far table. He begins to sprinkle the orange dust again while muttering something about his, hers, ours and mine. Bunny isn't sure if he’s a threat to her or to himself. He suddenly lays on the table, propping his head on his hands and bringing his feet up and over his head. He uses a leg to point at her “Move your carrots from my HQRHR or I will be back and not in your nightmares next time. Now open your eyes”. Bunny stared at the table where CrazyNine was just laying, he had disappeared right in front of her. Blinking a few times she hears someone calling her name again…

As she opened her eyes, Bunny is very confused to see her bodyguards kneeling beside her saying her name. “Boss you must have fainted when you couldn't find your carrot, I sent someone down to the cellar to get you another one - I tried to wake you up by waving it under your nose”. Bunny takes his hand and with some small assistance she stands up. Looking around her office everything seemed normal, maybe it had all been a nightmare. Opening her drawer to put the carrot away she sees a note;

Stay out of my HQRHR, CN. With two red roses next to it.

First word: Roses. Last word: Revenge. If this is the last post then the last word is: Murder.

Roses are being placed on a grave as Kuku watches from a distance.  The grave of a Tyrant, killed some time previously.  The headstone says "RIP Scipita Rourke" Ding Dong the witch is dead, thinks Kuku...  He takes another swig from his bottle of brandy and wanders off.

Later, Kuku is back at his house, suffering from the previous night of excess in Philly, thinking, “Where Was I last night? “ I was somewhere near a pet shop, around me were people whizzing past on rollerskates. A man was pushing a kart filled with hubcaps. Suddenly, a man appeared out of a lane, Dick Lane, Kuku thought it was called. A man dashed over to Kuku and said “lees dit boek” Kuku replied that he didn't speak that language, the man started talking again in English, he introduced himself as Mr Tamborine Man and told Kuku that he was bilingual. Kuku congratulated him on this. He handed Kuku two pills and a book. One of the pills, he said, would make one see things how they really were. The other one wouldn't. The book was a story of someone who would remain in the brain forever. The book changes behaviour. kuku accepted the pills and the book and started heading off. The man called back and said that if Kuku took both pills at the same time, it would change him forever. Kuku ntered a nearby speakeasy and thought about what had just happened. He took both pills and washed them down with a beer, put the book in his bag and thought no more about it. Until now.

Still dazed and reeling from the night before, I started to read... the cover of the book showed the Philly skyline, the image was fading, but I could make out a group of individuals standing in a group. The group obviously had a leader, that leader was the only woman there. I turned to the first page and the words leapt out at me: “The first Godmother of Philly was ScipitaRourke, she helped new people. You will learn more about her. But first, you must stare into the cover photo. Do that now then complete your reading...” Puzzled, Kuku flipped the book over and stared at the photo... One of the characters in the group photo had been wearing the skates near the petshop. Another of the groups had hubcaps beside him. But that wasn't all that Kuku noticed. He noticed that he was getting sleepy... as if in a trance... his head began to bob and slowly, suddenly he was having a vivid dream. He saw Scipita, in charge of Philly. He saw her meet with the other Godfathers. He saw how they all got along. He saw this, but he saw more. He saw things that the others didn't see. He saw, via the ability to see everything, that she had plans... Her plans didn't involve helping people, new or otherwise – her plans were to wipe out families and seize control of all 8 cities... Then Kuku saw something horrifying... Outwith his mindseye, as clear as an out of body experience, he saw the hubcap guy lead someone into a meeting with the Godmother... that someone was kuku's great-grandfather Costello!! He was seeing himself being led to meet someone he knew to be viscous, to be Hell bent on desctruction, to be a destroyer of cities and an assassin of character. The all seeing Kuku tried to shout to Costello, but the scream was silent. More silent screams, more helpless moments passed. He saw Costello being handed HQ keys by Scipita and a man on rollerskates being assigned to help him. And then... Kuku watched as the Scipita shot his BG, the hubcap guy shot Costello, and a man in rollerskates whizzed past and stole $5M of Costello's money... Kuku also heard Costello's last words... “somebody... anybody... this Tyrant must be stopped, Philly must be saved. This is a sacred and solemn prayer – whoever hears it has to stop the Tyrant.” Kuku had a moment of clarity... hearing those words made him realise that he had a mission to fulfill.

The dream got more intense... Kuku was now on the Streets, in disguise, talking to whoever would listen, telling them she was a Tyrant, shouting at the top of his voice that her plan was to take over. The Streets got busy, people were listening... Kuku thought his job was done, but then... The abuse started, the dream turned further and further into a Dantesque nightmare, an inferno of words, some spoken by Kuku, most shouted at him from the Tyrant's underlings. Kuku felt stabs of pain pierce his nightmare as bullets felled his Streetspeaking relatives... What was a dream? What was reality? Life became a nightmare... Suddenly, Kuku realised what had happened. He was living the nightmare... Like a Ghost he was destined to walk the Streets, shouting about Tyrants and occasionally taking a pottery class, wearing a vest, with a woman. But essentially, generation, after generation of the Kuku blood would, it became clear, be stuck on the Streets, in this endless nightmare, trying to help, but being ignored...

So the Tyrant is dead, but generation and generation of Kuklinski is destined to walk the Streets, he shouts but no-one seems to hear.  The band he's in is playing different tunes.  Yes, a legacy or respect for Scipita, the Tyrant - generations of Street walking for Kuku.  Is this Scipita's final revenge?

First word: Revenge. Last word: Fair. If this is the last post then the last word is: Murder.

Was it some sort of revenge? I was just sitting there minding my own business when the gentlemen appeared.  I could not see them well enough at first to tell you who they were. They just walked into my Tea House and stared straight at me. The place had not been open to the public in years so how did these guys know it even existed and who did they think they were to just barge in like this? As they continued towards me I realized that one was not a man after all. Although the movements and the body shape from a distance looked male, when they got close I saw one of them looked like a spitting image of Lucretia Borgia. The man with her was no other than Deimne himself. I blinked my eyes over and over again. How could this be? I had heard stories of these Godfathers and seen pictures but of course both of these people had died years ago.

Lucretia sat in the chair beside me. She reached into her gem studded handbag and pulled out a small book. She opened the book and said “if you do not help me finished this crossword puzzle, this will be the worst night of your life. Six letters – frightened”. I could not believe this. Two dead people barge into my place and this is what they want from me? They want me to help them with crosswords? I tried to concentrate but my mind was racing. I looked again at the puzzle Lucretia wanted me to help with, “scared” I said, “six letters – frightened is scared”.

Suddenly I could hear a far off noise; it sounded like an elephant flying through the night. Something flew at my head narrowly missing, and then another and another. I fled from the Tea House and ran into the garden behind. All these things dive bombing me along the way. Finally I caught a glimpse of what these creatures were and it made a little sense, flying monkeys of course. I still did not know what they wanted with me and why they were chasing me through my beautiful flower garden. Just then my foot caught a root of the old oak tree. I fell down hard, rolling down the bank towards the little creek that ran the length of the property. I was hoping in that second that maybe these airborne creatures would not know where I had gone but of course that was a false hope. As I came to a stop at the bottom of the hill, laying there in the dirt on my back, one of those monkeys found me. He jumped on my chest and put his face up to mine. His breath smelled like rotten cabbage and his teeth were so sharp a pointed. As he let out a sound nearing a scream, the other monkeys started flying down the hill towards us. I

My body started shaking, “frightened is scared” I thought and I closed my eyes, unable to. But then I realized I could hear another voice. A more calm and friendly voice. “Whatsername, Whatsername please answer me”. I opened my eyes and there was Satanta. I was back inside the Tea House lying on the floor. There was Satanta looking over me and he smiled. “It looks like you were on that ladder over there trying to hang a picture; I think you must have fallen. You did hit your head it seems, you have quite the lump. How are you feeling?” Glad to be away from the monkeys and dead Godfathers, I returned the smile at my dear friend and answered, “I feel great dear, just wonderful. You cannot imagine how happy I am to see your fair face!”

First word: Fair. Last word: Benevolent. If this is the last post then the last word is: Murder.

After a long night of partying, with the fair ladies of Philadelphia, Built2Destroy decided to leave the festivities as there was no more booze left. He starts walking down the street whistling and minding his own business, the next thing that happens is him looking up at someone he had only heard stories about.

A man reaches out his hand and helps him up. "Good thing we found you before they got to you"
Built2Destroy just stands there all frozen up, not sure if he's dreaming or if it’s reality so he says "if you are real prove it"
lolcat scratches Built2Destroy across the face and the man with him says "how’s that for real?"
Built2Destroy says "maybe I ain't going crazy then. What can I do for you?"
lolcat stares at Built2Destroy with a fierce look, while the man servant says "we need you to help us break into the godfathers bank and empty it with us"
Built2Destroy looks at the man wondering how in Gods name he manages to communicate with the kitten, clearly there is something he's not picking up.

lolcat shows Built2Destory a funny picture of a cat, hoping it will encourage him into helping them, then the man servant says "do as my leader says or we shall force you to watch funny cat pictures all night"
Built2Destroy wants to see where they are going with this so he says "what’s your plan?"
lolcat presents a picture of a cat on a strippers pole before the man servant says "it’s simple, we use the cat as a diversion whilst you go in the bank taking all the money as no one will expect that"

He looks back at the man servant wondering why anyone would allow themselves to be whipped by a cat so to say, before he responds "if you ask me that’s the dumbest idea I’ve heard since I was walking around in a pink dress, and I have never walked around in a pink dress".
lolcat starts playing with some yarn whilst the man servant slams his hands down on a table in a way that maybe would scare a little child.
The servant gets a small splint from the table stuck in his hand and he turns his attention elsewhere for it.

Built2Destroy decides to make a run for it as he cannot take this nonsense; he starts running but takes a quick glance back at one of the funny pictures of cats and trips only to see lolcat standing over him with a really demonic look in its eyes.
The man servant picks up a socket wrench and hits Built2Destroy in the face a couple of times saying "that’s what you get for not helping my leader".

He starts coming to his senses and realizes it was all a dream due to drinking too much. He gets up and starts walking towards the closest diner thinking breakfast would be good now, upon entering the diner he reaches down into his pocket for his wallet to make a benevolent gesture to the young waitress, only to find a funny picture of a cat in its place before he once again passes out.

First word: Benevolent. Last word: Immigrant. If this is the last post then the last word is: Murder.

Mafialicious was feeling benevolent and threw some money into the hat of street artist. It was half way into April yet it felt like spring was nowhere to be found. God it's cold... fucking snow, Mafialicious muttered whilst making her way through the old district of Philadelphia. She had a night out planned with Kuku- and was supposed to meet him at their special place.... They'd met a few times at the Same Place now, it was dark, dodgy and nobody recognized them. Perfect. Even though Mafialicious ran with the strangers crew and Kuku- with the bunnies it was better not too many people knew about their private meet ups. Mafialicious knew this meant propably 90% of the people already knew....

The heel of her stiletto got stuck between two cobbles, making her trip over. She landed face down into the snow. Well... this was awkward.... quickly she got back on her feet. She instantly noticed that one of her knees was bruised badly, the heel of her stiletto had broken off and she had snow in her hair. What was supposed to become an interesting night out had just turned into disaster. She couldn't meet Kuku like this! Mafialicious decided she needed to get changed before she could meet Kuku and turned around.... she then spotted some low life thug who was standing a few feet away holding a knife. He must have been following her she thought. “ Give me your designer purse ,Bitch” he said to her. Could tonight get any worse Mafialicous wondered?! Mafialicious kinda pleased with the guy inviting her to reach for her purse quickly pulled her Pistole out of it, aimed it at the guy and pulled the trigger.....

Falure!

You failed to WACK! Low life thug.

A critial miss!

You feel blood dripping from your forehead.

“ Stay with us girl! Whats your name? Can you hear me?” Mafialicious heard a lot of voices but was unable to speak. It felt like she was on a cart or train? There was bright light flashing above her, people were touching her, trying to open her eyes... woah bright light mother fucker! I don't think she is conscious yet officers, she heard someone say. Where was she? What was going on... she felt sleepy but tried to fight it... unsuccessfully... it all got quiet again around her and she fell asleep....

“Kuklinski, the new Godfather of Delaware” read the headline in the newspaper. Mafialicious blinked reassuring she had read the title correctly, underneath it was a picture of Kuku-. He was standing in front of a car, wearing a ridiculously big hat and smiling ear to ear. The man had some charm she was forced to admit. Quite handsome really. I mean after all... how could she deny any of that at this stage anyway.... but godfather??? GODFATHER material? Was he made out of that? God no, no he was not. She shook her head. Many questions raised up in her head... how did he make godfather? How the fuck did this happen. Where did TylerDurden go? Did someone kill him for good? That wasn't possible.... TylerDurden was immortal, no matter how many times you would kill the man he would always come back.... it was like part of the life style.... Mafialicious snickered... Kuku- was quite unrestrainable too in many ways.... more on this story at page 5

Still shocked she turned the pages till she had reached the article....

After 3 years of haunting mobsters in various cities of our country TylerDurden has announced his retirement. TylerDurden is said to be tired of the lifestyle he had been living and had started looking for a successor. He has found this successor in Kuku- he said. Kuku- has always been on my radar, the way he presents himself in the streets annoying as many people as he can, I have always admired. In fact, him and me are not so different. TylderDurden said. Though our way to put our selves out there are entirely different our goals are the same. Whip as many asses as we can. I use my gun, Kuku- uses his pen.

When asked what would happen to Marla, Robert and his army TylerDurden smiled, well thats the best part... they're not going anywhere. We' re combing the pen and the gun you see. The only difference is they had to rename the army. No longer will their last name be Durden. They will now be named after Kuku. Jeanetkuku, MitchKuku, etcetera. Marla and Robert will be working closely under Kuku- to succesfully take out as many other people from the 4 mafia cities. Whilst they handle the hitsquad, Kuku- will handle the publicity. It's really a win-win.

Because Kuku- will not be participating in our wars, it means he will never leave Delaware. We're not kidding anyone by pretending he has a quality gun after all. I mean the guy probably couldn't hit the side of a barn. Because he stays in Delaware this also means nobody can kill him either, since well... the four cities think they're so clever but have you ever seen anyone other than us land in Delaware? No you have not... and you know why? Because you have never been to Delaware either. Ha. Tyler chuckled.

Godfather Kuku- will do wonders for Delaware as you can see. He'll fight justice in his special own little way and nobody will be able to silence him. How can anyone not see how perfect this is?

I think she's waking up sir... there were those voices again Mafialcious was thinking.... she tried open her eyes and managed to. The room was dim, some woman was bending over her... next to her stood Kuku-.... wearing that ridiculously big hat again....

Why am I in Delaware Mafialicous asked Kuku.... is this your headquarters? God, do I have to call you godfather Kuklsinki now?

Kuku looked puzzled at the nurse... Whats going on?

“ Oh dear the nurse spoke, she might have a heavy concussion.... “

Kuku turned to Mafialicious... “ It's going to be ok dear, just rest.... all will be well”

Do I have to revisit the immigration office again Kuku now we live in Delaware?

First word: Immigrant. Last word: Politician. If this is the last post then the last word is: Murder.

Immigrants, undercutting my prices for a job, willing to work for a pittance and always seeming to get in the way of business seemed to be my thoughts again.  Long had I thought of myself better then other immigrants, and maybe was about pride or the quality of work but he shrugged it off. It had been another one of them days where I questioned how I had ended up this way in the family business.  Times were tough with the G-men constantly coming down on criminals, and the jails seemed more packed than ever.  I knew I didn't want to go back inside, and after the latest heist I knew I had to lay low for a while.  Racing through the ranks, getting my hands dirty or doing things some were unwilling too brought the realization that a lot of unwanted attention was coming my way and made me wonder why I was in the business and for how long.

Walking towards the train depot, I went searching for an empty wagon to jump in just to get out of town and let things cool down for a little while.  Jimmying open a cargo wagon, I quickly slid in knowing they would be watching for me at stations, ports and airports so this was the easiest way out.  Closing the door, it was nice to be in an empty wagon, jamming the door shut quickly it was time to lay my head down for the night so would be well rested.

Closing my eyes a million thoughts ran through my mind, before the calm came with a light snore.  Suddenly, I could feel someone staring, as I tossed and turned in my sleep, the feeling burnt into me, and quickly turning I reached inside my pocket as I heard someone heavy breathing.  Pointing my m1911, I guessed it was just a vagrant as I noticed a huddled figure in the corner.

“Keep it down over there, I am trying to sleep” I shouted

A voice boomed back, “you cannot do anything to me, worse then you already have”

Curiously a smirk came across my face; I had been known to have my past catch up on me, as I slid back the hammer ready for his best attempt.   As the figure swooned forward, the colour slowly drained from me as I looked into the eyes of a dead man.  The face still bloated from his trip to the Hudson he had never resurfaced from and the hole in his head showing the wagon door behind brought shivers up my spine.  Was I dead, was this his time of judgement I thought? Looking into the cloudy white eyes my pistol dropped to the wagon floor.

The face of Devin Hospelhorn stared as if directly into his soul, the cold clammy hand leering as if for answers.  Humbly looking at the face, neither seeking forgiveness or claiming regret I raised my eyes, “you were just a problem that had to be got rid of”

Growing in confidence, I looked up further, “you spoke to the wrong people regarding a job I was doing, and it could have cost me big time.  So what do you want from me now?”

Devin glared back as he shouted in anger “don’t you think I need money too, don’t you think I have problems.  That money was to pay for me to get out of this dump”

Looking over, the sympathy left me “if you want to find your way into crime, you need back up, you need to be with a street gang or an organisation.  You were off the right background”

Devin’s anger heightened as his cold clammy hands gripped round my neck, the dampness still in hands where he had been dropped off as the stench of his rotting corpse sickening to the smell.  Lashing out my hands past through his as the icy cold feel filled the wagon.  Staring into his eyes, I blurted

“you should warn your son not to make the same mistake and come under me, as you can get rid of me but there will be others.  We are everywhere and there is nothing you can do about”

The shocked look on his face, as he let go suddenly

“I can’t even see my son, thank to you.  I see nothing and can’t help my own flesh and blood” as his anger rose

This situation of calming a situation had never been my strongest so I continued “your son is a prospect as a future associate of mine, he will end up just like me.  I will model him on myself and you cannot stop me”

I continued “he will continue to take out the trash like you, who impede progress.  You will never understand the structure things need just like government to work, or things go wrong”

Watching the spirit grow as its rage exploxed, I watched as it rushed at me, I knew I had given the wrong answer, but I never cared.  I felt the cold fist strike my face and felt my body fall to the ground helpless.

Suddenly waking up with a jolt, I looked round, guessing it had all been a bad dream I wiped the sweat of my brow, before tasting the coppering flavour of my own blood on my lips.  Wiping my nose, I noticed the fresh scarlet blood still dripping from my nose.

Guess i got to work on that diplomacy thing, i can always act like a politician.

First word: Politician. Last word: 13 Seconds. If this is the last post then the last word is: Murder.

Your city's next post's first sentence must contain "Politician" and the last sentence must contain "13 Seconds". If this will be you're city's last post, it's last sentence must contain "Murder" instead.

Vincent wakes up in a cold sweat, like a politician trying to tell the truth. The night was dark and full of terrors. Flashbacks of the tuckfather Lucreatia haunted his every memory. Reading through the old journals of his forefathers, none were as twisted as Lucreatia Borgia. Luring people in with supple curves, she would wait until someone was at their most vulnerable, untuck and then pounce. Could their be a worse way to go?

Rising from bed I mutter “Shit…I need to take my mind off that foxy harlot.” Lighting a cigarette I pull on some pants, loosely, and make my way down to the nearest of Mitchell’s boys. A little mescaline to help distract my mind, eating the flower as I exit the alley I start to make my way home. My mind is overcome, it's still racing. Images from Godpeople past flood my mind. The walk from South Philly to sweet Bella I see flashes of the faces of Iris and Vicodin with fond memories….and then there she was. Lucretia, standing in a seductive dress eyeing me up and down, I can see the bulge of her huge gun with the head just visible at the bottom of the dress.

I begin to run, my heart racing and skipping beats. I make my way through the alley’s looking up, but she seems to always be one step ahead. On top of the fire escapes, I make a quick turn and she’s at the end of the alley. Doubling back I run through the other side and make my way into my apartment. Slamming the door behind me, I rush to lock it with my legs beginning to cramp. The sweat rolls off my brow thick, like the rolls of Iota’s chins. I move to my bed and collapse. Finally, safety.

Or so I think...

A blink later Lucretia is at the end of my bed, now dressed in lingerie. The bulge that was visible under the dress is now replaced with smooth panties. She moves up across my chest kissing delicately. I cannot resist the primal urges, I never could. This is the vision of a true woman. My mind clears of all the nightmares and that’s when it happens. The moment of truth as Lucretia slowly pulls down her garb and revels her massive cannon. It is bigger than anything I have seen before. I shove her... him... it off me.

Running to the side of the room, Lucretia chases after me, pulling out her actual gun this time and points it at me. I am cornered. As she closes in I notice the window a jar. Flinging a plant at her she dodges it, and I use the minor opportunity to crawl out and move my way on to the balcony. She follows and a shoot out ensues, I never feared I'd one day be crossing swords with the Godtucker Lucretia. I continue walking backwards until I’m against the railing. Her gun raised to my head and her cannon enlarges. I lean over trying to avoid it as best as possible. The railing gives way and I tumble over. As I fall I see Lucretia drop her gun and begin working her cannon and begin to spurt down onto my face as I hit the ground. The horror…..the horror.

And that’s when I come through in a hospital. Hooked up to IV’s I look around and notice Satanta and Whatshername at my side. I ask what happened. Satanta looks at me and mutters about how I got high and thought I could fly, again, after giving one of the girls at the ring a Donkey punch. Whatshername then added "But it's ok, you did last a full 13 seconds this time. Isn't that a new record for you?"

First word: 13 Seconds. Last word: Father. If this is the last post then the last word is: Murder.

He had never seen a look like that on Godfather Sin's face before, a man famed for being a fearless gunman as he was for being an astute politician, but he just stood there in shock for 13 seconds. Was the old man beginning to lose it, even more than usual? Was there something in the reports that could possibly cause that type of reaction? They had all heard the rumours that had started to circulate of strange satanic rituals and disturbed spirits roaming the streets, but they couldn't possibly be true... could they?

There was only one thing for it, Satanta would hit for Roxborough and investigate for himself.

“Elm Street, Roxborough. And step on it” he snarled at the driver as he jumped in the back of the car. He was normally pleasant to those he worked with, some of the female staff might even suggest he was a little over friendly at times, but lack of sleep over these last few days was begging to take its toll.

The entire city had all been working around the clock trying to get on top of developments in Roxborough and Germantown, as new criminal organisations began to set up in areas that the Philadelphia leadership had clearly ear marked as fertile grounds and essential to the future developments of cosa nostra in the city. Each of the leaders knew that blood would be spilt in the battle for the new territory, but challenges like this were nothing new to the families of Philadelphia. Even with the knowledge that a fight was ahead, Satanta had never seen the type of fear and trepidation that was overcoming the city this day. Something wasn't right and for once, it wasn't just Godfather Sin's aftershave.

As the car slowly meandered towards its destination, Satanta closed his eyes and began to gather his thoughts. He knew that a few of the other members had already taken this trip and were probably still out there, but he wanted to see for himself exactly what was happening on the ground. That, and he had heard some interesting tales of a madam named Betty working in the area that he just had to look into. With his gun, his handcuffs and a healthy selection of dollar bills in his pocket, Satanta felt he was ready for anything.

“Halt! Stop the car!”. A voice so commanding it got an instant reaction from the driver and raised Satanta from his slumber in a heartbeat. As the car screeched to a stop, Satanta's hand fell to his gun and his eyes shot out the window. Directly in front of him stood three men. The light was eerie and only faint silhouettes could be seen, but it was clear that these men meant business and if they were about to open fire there wasn't much that could be done to stop it. Slowly reaching for the door handle, he began thinking what he might say to cause enough distraction to give him a chance of taking the three down in one move.

“Count... Countdown? Is that you?” was the best he could come up with. Anyone that knew the gentleman Countdown would be enraged at such a horrid accusation being levelled against them, so at least he'd know if they were part of the local Philly family groups. “Take your hand off your gun young pup, we only want to talk”. At this point, the bodies of the men had come into full view. Three very different faces stood in front of him, but all three were faces he recognised well from tales of old.

The first man standing to the left was a short fella, with a goofy look and a strange smile plastered across his face. The general appearance gave the impression that he might well be a few bits short of a byte, but if the stories were to be believed this was anything but the case. For years the papers had spoke of the large body count this man was responsible for, along with his obsessive behaviour towards cream cheese and cats. Satanta knew exactly who it was, the infamous and nefarious ForkRourke.

To the right stood a far more intimidating figure. It was hard to get a clear look at the man, as the air was filled with a smell of bacon. Satanta wasn't aware of any diners near by, but obviously there must have been for such a smell to fill the air. If it wasn't a diner causing it, what was it? Flying Pigs? The second man, thankfully, seemed to be more concerned with cleaning his gun than he was with the man standing in front of him. He had the look of someone that had ended many lives without the slightest moment of regret or hesitation. From old journals and newspaper cuttings, there was no mistaking this gentleman for anyone but Butt_Ox.

In the middle of the three men stood a more dominating figure. Satanta wondered for a moment if it was even a man at all, as it could easily be a bathtub turned on its side. He stood proudly, looking confident despite the fact that his goofy friend Fork was starting to act a little dIZZY and strange. As the man began to speak again, there was no mistaking a thick New York accent and a slight touch of hill-billy, this was clearly ThomasRourke that was approaching him.

“What were you thinking you daft little fools?” the voice boomed. “Honestly, I was kind of thinking that the rumours of your demise were greatly exaggerated... if I'm being honest”. He was about to let a smug grin slide over his face, but the look on Butt_Ox's face suggested this wasn't a time for clever retorts. Glancing at Fork, he was happy to see a random cat had grabbed the strange one's attention so he was looking far less of a threat. “Didn't you all die? Like, a long time ago?” Satanta asked as he struggled to comprehend what was happening around him.

“Don't even try young man, your feeble mind couldn't possibly understand what is happening here” Thomas replied, while slipping his hand to an inside jacket pocket. Satanta, feeling things were going in a dangerous direction and aware of the reputations the men in front of him had, decided it was time to act. Diving to the ground, he let two bullets loose from his gun. He thought they were directed straight at the large figure standing in front of him, but the man didn't even flinch. Had he really missed? Or had the bullets just gone straight through the man?

At this point, all hell broke loose. Satanta, still a little in shock from the men he had been confronted with, struggled to make out what was happening. As best he could tell, Fork had decided to return fire and had inadvertently shot up everything nearby, except for Satanta. He seemed to have shot his two compatriots too, luckily. Satanta lay on the ground, feeling a small trickle of blood run from his nose, before passing out in the dust of the Philadelphia streets.

“Wake up Sat. Sat! Are you really that drunk you Irish bum?”, the words pierced his head as if being fired straight from a gun. “What? What happened?” he stuttered out as his driver shook him by the shoulder and handed him a handkerchief for his bloody nose. “You fell asleep against the door in the car you fool. You knew it had been playing up, what were you thinking? You fell straight out, landed on the road and bust your nose up. Though it's a clear improvement if you ask me” the driver quipped back. Satanta wiped the blood away, wondering what had just happened. Was it just a dream? Had he really seen the former Godfather of New York? Was it some strange warning of things to come? Or was he simply still drunk from the night before?

He picked himself from the ground and began dusting himself off. He didn't know what might lie ahead in Roxborough, or what he had just experienced, so he wanted a moment to collect his thoughts and compose himself. As he glanced at the ground beside him, he noticed a note just sitting there. It looked too clean and undamaged to have been there long. He picked it up, dusted it off and unfolded the sheet. Inside lay a very brief and very direct note.

Make things right or all of Philadelphia will continue to suffer.

~TR

Was this real? Had ThomasRourke just left him a message? What did it mean? And most importantly, how much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood? With his head spinning and no idea of the answers to these questions, he decided it was time to hit back to Godfather Sin's building. They would need great minds to solve this one, just as a father helps his son, but as they didn't have any of those a few big guns with strong drinks might be the next best thing.   

First word: Father. Last word: Ashes. If this is the last post then the last word is: Murder.

It had been a hard day for Jono. He worked hard to a mass a collection as good as his fathers. The hubcap collection was getting scarce at best and he had to reach further afield for the good stuff. As far as New York sometimes. Boy was it getting harder and harder to get those hubcap filled crates past customs. After finally reaching home he could think of nothing more that he wanted than his bed. He rushed in to his bedroom in a ghost like state and face planted the bed, sleep soon followed. 

Jono stretches while letting out a massive yawn. The sun was not shining and the birds were not chirping, what the fuck spring? Like any other normal day he threw back his hubcap bed sheets, put on his hubcap slippers and climbed in to his hubcap shower. Completely at ease he begins to sing a familiar and annoying song, changed to suit him. "I have a hubcap house with a hubcap window; hubcap is the colour of all that wear. Hubcaps on the streets and all the trees too! I have a girlfriend and she is a hubcap. Hubcaps are the people here, that walk around. Hubcaps on my corvette it's in and outside! Hubcaps are the words I say and what I think. Hubcaps are the feelings that live inside me! Iiiiii'm hubcap da ba diii da ba diiie da ba di!!! Iiii'm hubcap da ba dii da ba diiiie!"

He reads the newspaper with his breakfast, the headline catching his eye. “POLICE CHIEF COMMISSIONER TO LEAD POLICE MARCH IN HIS PERSONALIZED CADILLAC ROADSTER". Jono almost spit out his lucky charms. He had his eye on this thing for months. The police chief had this thing personalised from head to toe but most notably was his top of the range hubcaps. The most beautiful round thing to have ever crossed a persons line of sight in decades. It's not that it was encrusted with diamonds or gold or anything of the like, he was a policeman, not a godfather. It was the perfectly engraved police badge smack bang in the middle of it that did it. At the moment, they were one of a kind. If he could get his hands on just one of them he would die a happy man. 

Time was of short supply though, the police march was today. In three hours in fact! God damn those late nights and late rises. Information! That was what he needed. Throwing on his hubcap clothes, running out and locking his hubcap doors Jono jumped in to his hubcap car. His first port of call was to the local police station just down the road. This was where the march would begin and hopefully where the Cadillac would be sitting before it leads the way. Sure enough, there it was, just sitting there surrounded by armed guards in the parking lot. Oh my it was such a beautiful view. The car itself Jono couldn't have cared less about, it was alllll about those beautiful hubcaps. 

See, Jono had his eyes on these things for a long time but given that the city is overrun with crime it was impossible to get anywhere near the thing. It was always surrounded by armed guards of the police force and was never in the same place for long. The chief loved this thing so dearly. Jono had tried once before to get his hands on the hubcaps but to no avail. He knew this time what he needed though, an accomplice! There was only one person he wanted for this job knowing how easily it could turn in to something dangerous and possibly, life threatening. Today was a Saturday, on Saturday he knows that his friend likes go to the local speak easy and try his hand at picking up the flappers. As suspected, there he was. Sitting at the bar with an empty bar stool next to him. Waiting for his next prey to turn him down. "SATANTA" I shouted, "SHOOT YOU IN THE KNEE CAP YOU SCOUSE TWAT" came the reply. After initially explaining what it was that I needed help with he laughed in my face and told me to go fuck myself. Not surprising really. Only the promise of midget prostitutes would swing him round to my way of seeing things. He was the perfect choice, I didn't mind whether or not he got shot. Hell, it was a bonus in my eyes. 

By now the march was already well in to its 2 mile procession. Satanta and I had to get to its finishing point and quickly. Jumping in to my hubcap car we made our way to the town hall and parked up in its accompanying car park. It was time to wait. While waiting Jono couldn't help but remind Satanta about the time that he shit his pants when he saw a spider in the back of his car. Or the time when he shit his pants when he saw a spider in his living room while dusting in a French maids outfit. Good times!

It was time; the car had finished its journey and was now being parked just a few spaces down. 4 armed guards surrounded it again and the police who took part in the march had followed it in. It took a while to die down but it eventually did. Now there were just us two in the car park accompanied by the four armed guards and those beautiful sweet hubcaps. The plan was simple. Satanta was to distract the guards, while I got to work. Getting the hubcaps off the car was not a problem; he could do that in three seconds flat. Getting to them was always the bigger problem. 

Before Satanta could react, he fired a shot at and wounded one of the guards. While their attention was turned to what had just happened I nudged Satanta out of the car. Before he could even think a bullet went straight through his head and the guards came to investigate the now lifeless body. That was his window, no more than 15 seconds later Jono was gone, four hubcaps in hand and a smile across his face. Running absentmindedly out of the car park he trips, seeing nothing but the pavement racing towards his face. 

With that, he shot bolt upright, his hubcap bed sheets falling off the bed as the realisation of the dream hits him slowly.

"What? You mean I didn't actually get them??? NOOOO! WAIT, WHAT?! YOU MEAN SATANTA ISN'T ACTUALLY DEAD?!?! 

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

I shall burn his house down! Forget this fish! He shall be sleeping in the ashes!

First word: Ashes. Last word: Backstab. If this is the last post then the last word is: Murder.

Carla C. Crabapple was new to the streets of Philly, but like a phoenix rising from the ashes she had big plans to make an impact. She had been taken in by Godfather DeadlySin just a couple days prior. Eager, she was looking to make a name for herself and earn the trust of the men and women she was now working under. Amidst the chaos of learning the ways of this new life, she was informed that there were to be some citywide expansions coming soon. Her mind was racing. How was she to know the inhabitants of these new districts were training for the day they would eventually be overthrown? What in the hell did she get herself into? She tried not to let it get to her, especially when she spoke to others. When she gets nervous Carla tends to develop a nervous lisp. The lisp doesn’t tend to go over well when she tries to make a serious attempt to get her point across. She wanted to prove to people that she was indeed the mobster she wanted to be, one with a firm stance and that didn’t include the lisp unfortunately. Speech therapy seemed to be working, but when she gets flustered all that progress simply goes out the window like a used candy wrapper.

Lalaith, DeadlySin’s Right Hand lady had given Crabapple orders to search the outskirts of Old City District to see if any of these unknown men were hovering over the city lines. She had specific orders to dispose of them if they were getting too close. Lalaith had given the young woman photos of a few of the men that had been spotted spying and along with the photos a few more names were listed on a sheet of paper. Crabapple took the items and placed them in her bag and set off on her first mission to prove herself worthy of keeping around. 

It was uncharacteristically hot outside for the time of year and Carla was unprepared in terms of snacks and water. As the hours passed she began to feel dehydrated. She started seeing things, thinking she recognized a few familiar faces and even drew her gun on the wrong man at one point. After that mess, and somehow talking her way out of it she needed a break. She took a seat and rested her back against a building wall so that no one could sneak up on her. She was sure she could keep watch from there. 

The sun was setting and Carla felt energized, even though she struggled to stand. How long had she been asleep? A figure stood before her; 

“The name is Marietta, get your ass up Crabapple you have work to do.”

Carla rose to her feet and was sure she had seen a ghost, she looked in front of her and the woman remained. She had heard the name in her short time here but didn’t know what the hell she wanted from her. Marietta pulled out her gun and said:

“Now you listen to me, you’re going to take those photos out of your bag, as well as the list and you’re going to place them in my hands. If you don’t, you will surely regret it.”

I…I…I would, but you thee I wath given orderth by my Godfather to get the job done. I can’t thcrew it up or I will thurely die.

Marietta jotted her eyes away from the young woman and shook her head. Her face was calm yet her eyes burned red.

“Have it your way then.”

She cocked the gun, and pressed it against Crabapples ear.

“You work for me now.  You disobey my orders again and I’ll make sure my men clean up the mess and no one will ever know you existed. Think of me as your new Godfather.”

Tears formed in her eyes as she struggled to speak.

Yeth, Ma’am. I’ll do whatever you thay. Here’s everything I have. 

Carla ruffled through the bag and took out the contents, slipping two of the photographs in her pocket she handed over the rest to Marietta. Hoping the woman wouldn’t notice, she breathed a sigh of relief as Marietta lowered the gun.

“Very well then, you sure this is everything? I should let you know, I don’t respond well to people lying to me.”

Taking a deep breath, Carla calmed herself.

Yes, Godfather. That’s everything I have.

“Good, I can’t have evidence of my men getting out. I run a tight ship and these photos will help me tie up some loose ends. None of you people are going to infiltrate my territory. I’ll make damned sure of it. We are going to take our districts back once and for all. Now get the fuck out of here, Crabapple. I have what I need. I don’t want to see your face or any of your people around here ever again. If you get too close, I will end your life slowly.”

Carla blinked, and without thinking reached her hand into her pocket and slightly pulled out the remaining photos. 

Will do Godfather. Just know that you will never have all of the information you need.

With that justification, Carla smirked and turned away from Marietta. 

Click, BANG!

The sound of the gunshot startled Crabapple awake. 

What the hell? Where am I?

The sun was setting and Carla felt energized, even though she struggled to stand. How long had she been asleep? Using the wall to prop herself up. She checked her bag, the photographs and list were gone. Panicking a bit, she searched her pockets and pulled out one of the photos. On the back were the words:

 Remember what I said, Always. I will end you if you backstab me. -M

First word: Backstab. Last word: Rags. If this is the last post then the last word is: Murder.

Standing at the edge of his balcony, BlackFog looked out over the Philadelphia landscape thinking of all it's history from the leaders past to each backstab that had been perpetrated there. The views had changed a lot over the years, as had the people within the city, as was always the case in a world as dynamic as ours. Leaders had come and gone, empires had risen and fallen, but still this thing of ours ticked on. Life is all about change, he thought to himself, so he cherished the prospect of it and looked forward to what the future might hold.

Right now, things were changing faster than ever. He looked out over Roxborough, thinking of the opportunities that might lie within. As his mind began to consider the potential and the risks that it might involve, a loud knock came at the door.

“Food delivery for Mr. Fog” the voice echoed in from the hall.

They had been working hard eyeing up their future moves for the new districts, so small details like food often got ignored. Ordering in some burgers from the local joint was about as fine dining as they'd experienced for over a week. Pulling some change from his pocket, Foggy hit towards the door to pick up the next feast.

“Hey Jim.... Ohhh, sorry, I just assumed it'd be the normal...”

As he was saying the words, he spotted a body lying in the hall. It was Jim, the normal delivery guy, tied up in the corner with his uniform taken. The stranger at the door obviously didn't work for them, but before Foggy could even start to react he had been knocked unconscious with the butt of a pistol to the side of his temple.

A loud ringing sound filled his head. It was agony. He couldn't think. All he could see was darkness, with the feeling of a tight blindfold pinching at his ears. His arms struggled, but couldn't free themselves from the rope that bound them. He tried to stand, but his legs were bound tightly to the chair and he couldn't move. He was helpless. He was trapped. He didn't know how long he had been out, but the smell of the burgers was still warm so he knew it hadn't been long. Now, he needed to figure out what was happening and how he would get out of this.

“I guess you're wondering why we're here?” a voice said, though heavily muffled with an obvious large bite of a burger having just been taken. “Take the blindfold off, he's of no danger to us”. With that, the blindfold was lifted from BlackFog's eyes. Directly in front of him was a large man, devouring multiple burgers with the table manners of a Tasmanian devil.

“I guess you know who I am?” the man said, in a thick Scottish accent. “Honestly? I haven't got a notion” Foggy replied. The man, taken a little aback, squirmed in his seat. This was the first time Fog had witnessed any movement that wasn't directly related to eating. “I'm Godfather Iota. I'm sure you've heard of me and know my reputation” he said much firmer this time. Again, Foggy shrugged and gave a quick “No, I'm still blank. Sorry”.

At this point, the large man became visibly angry. He even threw a burger across the room, splattering ketchup all over BlackFog's face. “I lead an army of men in Chicago. I controlled the whole city and nobody could make a move without my nod”. At this, Foggy began to remember some stories from his forefathers journals. Iota had been known in the city of Chicago, but it was more a case of being an infamous leader than a famous one. Foggy tried to remember the traits he was famous for. Claims were made that the man was more inactive as a Godfather than the bums being shot on the streets were at the time. It was oft suggested that the man was tighter with money than a doorway was when he tried to squeeze through it. He also had a strong reputation for having gun malfunctions, something Foggy hoped he could use to his advantage.

“So, things mustn't be going too well in Chicago then, if you're here stealing my burgers?” Foggy hissed out in a venomous manner. Iota, taking his gun from his jacket and placing it on the table for added gravitas, quickly shouted back “I have something very important to tell you. The future of your entire city depends on it....”.

With that, Iota's gun went off. The bullet pierced him right between the eyes and his body fell back lifeless. The chair, under the added strain, began to wobble until finally it snapped. The body shot backwards, probably the fastest Iota had moved his entire life, and his legs kicked the table in front of him straight up in the air. The table came crashing down on BlackFog, instantly knocking him out as it struck his head.

“Wake up Foggy, wake up. What the fuck happened?”. The voice was distant in the background, but Foggy instantly recognised it as that of OttersPocket.

“Where is he? Is he still here?” Foggy only just managing to get the words past his lips.

“Who are you talking about? The guy that robbed you? He's down stairs. Some of the guys bumped into him running from your place. They spotted the picture of your mum he had taken in his arms and figured something was up. You've been lying here unconscious since we got here. He was just a petty thief though, not like anybody will miss him when he's gone” Otters explained.

“No, I mean Godfather Iota. He was here, he had a message for me... but the damn idiot went and shot himself, again.”

OttersPocket stared blankly at BlackFog. “What are you talking about? Iota has been dead for years. Some say he was actually dead most of the time people thought he ran Chicago, but he's definitely gone now. Why do you think so many burger places closed down?”.

BlackFog didn't know what to say. He was confused, concussed and still hungry. Something wasn't right here. Something didn't add up. He had to go speak with Godfather DeadlySin right away, he knew what he had to do as he wiped the blood from his head with some old rags lying on the floor.

First word: Rags. Last word: Savoir faire. If this is the last post then the last word is: Murder.

“What a day it has been." Swizzel thinks to himself pulling a couple rags from his pocket to wipe his face with. He staggers down the street in what you would call a zig-zag pattern. What seems like hours to him has only been a few minutes.

"Well this looks like as good a spot as any." Swizzel reaches in his pocket pulling out a cigarette and lighting it he begins to smile. To this day what Swizzel claims was a crack in the sidewalk, he tripped over his own feet. Between the alcohol and the fall he decided this was as good a place as any to just rest his eyes a little. Pulling himself off the concrete side walk and onto the bus station bench a few yards from where he fell Swizzel lays across the bench his eyes are heavy, burning his finger with the cigarette he angrily throws the butt in the gutter.

Suddenly, a voice catches his attention. It was a mans voice. He stared at the familiar face but wasn’t able to place where he was from. "What is your name" Swizzel asks. "Well I will tell you who I am, but not how I am able to be here." The man says. "They called me Caius." Swizzel stood there in shock. How this was even possible was beyond him. Only a moron would pass up the opportunity to talk to a legend.

"So what brings you here Caius?" Swizzel asks. "Well, the cities are growing and have disturbed our rest. So what has been going on?" Swizzel starts to explain the changes. The cities have split into territories and populations are growing. it is a good time to be a part of this incredible business. Swizzel reaches in his pocket and pulls out the silver flask out of his pocket and takes a sip passing it to Caius he goes back to his thoughts. Yup, slowly two more areas are becoming part of the family business.

I am glad to hear Germantown is making the smart decision. Roxborough on the other hand well lets just say we have run into problems but they will be dealt with soon. Caius stood there sipping from the flask. Caius as it seems is not much of an evil spirit. Swizzel ponders to himself I know I am completely wasted and rambling, but this ghost is extremely relaxed and has a smile on his face. Could it be? Swizzel wonders with hope of marijuana after death." Well I am done here" Caius says. It’s time for you to head back to the real world. Sipping on the flask Caius puts it in his pocket he has a grin on his face. A large cloud of mist begins to roll in and as all Swizzel can see is white he breathes in and opens his eyes.

Lifting his head off the bench his face frozen not with fear but with however you would look like when you are completely confused. Swizzel reaches for his flask, realizing he did not have it he says "but it was just a dream, wasn't it?" Even with all savoir faire it has been said he has Swizzel was lost for what to do right now.

First word: Savoir faire. Last word: Ashamed. If this is the last post then the last word is: Murder.

Tetley wasn't known for his sophistication or savoir faire, he was a man that liked direct action and talking the bull by its horns. He was glad it was time. They knew what had to be done and now all the Philadelphia families had given the orders. The reports from across the city had confirmed it, trouble was afoot on Elm Street in Roxborough. New criminal organisations, building up their defences for when an attack might be launched by the families of Philadelphia, were ripping up land and setting down battle fortifications. In their eagerness, or their stupidity, they had disturbed the spirits of the past and unleashed the full wraith of this thing of ours, both past and present.

“They're ready Godfathers, just say the word and we'll launch the attacks.” Tetley informed the leaders of Bella Braavos, South Philly and the Old City District.

Godfather DeadlySin rose from his chair, nodded to Godfather Jaqen_Hghar and Godmother Lady-Fighter and gave the signal for the attacks to commence. All of the leaders looked worried. They trusted their forces, they knew that they would defeat the enemy, they just didn't like sending them into battle without being at their side. However, they knew they had an equally important job to do. They must make sure that the spirits of the past were put to rest so that they could continue building the future they wanted for the city.

Tetley gave the signal to the drivers. The four of them would travel to the site on Elm Street, where the reports suggested the trouble all began, while the rest of the Philadelphia families took the war to the new uprising forces. They knew their hitsquads were well enough trained to handle any trouble they would meet, but what lay ahead of them at the site of the old burial grounds?

As the old Ford Model A's pulled up at the burial site, smoke rose from the districts in the background. Causalities for the families were very low, as the leaders rightly expected, but the time it was taking to deal with the insurgents was a cause for concern. Even more so as they still didn't know what to expect they would find themselves.

“Right guys, be on the lookout and watch out for anything unusual” Tetley roared. He had no sooner uttered the words than a strange man emerged from the darkness. It wasn't the fact that he was coming from the darkness that was strange. It wasn't even the fact that he was slightly transparent and obviously a ghost, they were expecting that much. It was the fact that the ghost that greeted them was ginger, quite weird looking and spoke in a thick German accent that caught them all by surprise.

“I am the Sherminator. An antiquated war machine from the past” the apparition said. Or at least that's what they thought he said, with a German accent it was tough to be sure.

“What do you want from us?” Tetley asked, his hand placed firmly on his gun but knowing that his bullets would be of little use if something were to kick off.

“Nothing more” the slightly nerdy looking character said, with a grin coming across his face. “You've done your jobs and the war has been started. We were bored. We wanted some fun. We wanted to see what you young kids could do. You had our legacies to build upon and improve on, so we wanted to see if you'd used it wisely or wasted it all”.

“So... this was all a joke? A horrible prank to entertain you?” Lady-Fighter snarled at the man.

“No my dear. This was a war. A test of what you were made of. Were you up to the fight? The challenge? Were you up to the task at hand? Sometimes our world needs politics. Sometimes it doesn't. Today, it needed murder!”