The cold winter air pierced through the respective lungs of Hamchop and Larry Lance Jr.,  - hired bodyguards by separate employers - who found themselves standing at each other's side in front of Comme Ci, Comme Ça Café & Lounge in downtown Chicago.  As the time struck just past two o'clock in the morning, the café's doors were shuttered and the shop was closed for business; if only for two men who found themselves sharing a table in the establishment deep in conversation - Don Cameron Collins of Downtown, Detroit, and Godfather Solastalgia of North Side, Chicago.  Strewn hastily over it were several maps, dossiers, schedules and equipment sheets; consistently moved, marked and reviewed by each party as they discussed the courses available for action - slowly dwindling down to just a handful of plans. As the night went on, Solastalgia found himself mediating Collins own thoughts as he spoke them out loud.

"He can't keep getting away with it, he can't keep getting away with it!" Collins yelled as he slammed his fist down on the table in frustration; the tight time frame, combined with the large amount of people that stood between them and their main target made the operation incredibly difficult.

Solastalgia shrugged as he tried to calm the conversation.

"He won't. It'll go as planned if we do things quickly, calmly and efficiently.  Calm down, Cameron.  What we have planned is.. fine.  Relax."

Though he was quick to shrug off Collins' anger and frustration, he couldn't blame him; TylerDurden's gang had reemerged once again, recuperating themselves after Cameron's one-man slaughtering spree several months ago.  On top of this, his gang ruined what would have been a lovely vacation in the Italian countryside between Solastalgia and Collins - the house they rented being the victim of an ambush in the form of a relentless torrent of bullets that the two were lucky to somehow survive before they scrambled back to the United States, but at a slight cost;  two bullets managed to strike Collins directly in the knee and back; leaving him with a slight limp and chronic pain.  Following this, a series of unfortunate events had left poor Collins in a depressed state; shortly after his return to the United States, the love of his life, Kourtney, had left him in the cold - falling for the heavy seduction of Khloe J. Kardashian, a lawyer.  Depression, combined with his chronic pain, had driven him to become heavily dependent and addicted to painkillers - almost always being washed down by copious amount of smuggled alcohol. To Collins, TylerDurden was the cause for his downward spiral, and he wanted revenge.  As Solastalgia's train of thought snapped back to the present, he found himself at a loss for words when he was prompted by Collins.

"..equipment on these sheets is real, do we?"

Solastalgia blinked.

"What?"

Cameron sighed angrily before repeating himself.

"I said, we don't even know if the equipment on these sheets is real, do we? I have never heard of any of this equipment before." he said, dangling the sheet he was holding sarcastically to the side of his head.

"Oh, it's absolutely real, Dook." Solastalgia quipped with a nickname Collins had come to despise.

"I think it's time we took a ride.  Time to show you the stash."

Collins shrugged as he begrudgingly agreed, whistling for Larry Lance Jr. to sort out and collect the documents for transportation.  As he slid on his gloves, Collins shook his head before muttering to himself.

"I swear, if this ends up being bullshit.."

The two men arrived at Dunder Mifflin Paper Company's corporate headquarters just a half an hour later; Solastalgia's home.  As the Godfather led Collins through the lobby along with several elevator rides to the top of the building, they found themselves in front of a heavily reinforced door.  Pulling a medium sized key out of his suit jacket's pocket, Solastalgia unlocked the door and quietly pushed it open - revealing what seemed to be a vast but completely pitch black room.  Leaning forward into the room and placing his hand on the wall to the left of the door, he swung his arm back and forth for the switch until he clumsily backhanded it on - providing light for the entire room.  Hundreds upon hundreds of firearms, grenades, duffel bags, ammunition boxes and stacks of cash were illuminated instantly, sending Collins into a moderate state of amazement.  

"These guns, they're…" he said incredulously as his eyes locked onto one of the displays.

"..a page taken from the book of our friend T-Dawg." Solastalgia replied as he watched Collins gawk at the equipment.

"..wait, what the fuck? These grenades..  "flashbangs?" High fragmentation grenades? Is this a wireless..telephone? These cartridges don't seem like any calibre I'm used to.. and the material for these guns seems far too advanced for anything that could be produced in the 1920-"

"Suspension of disbelief, Cameron. We don't have all evening, get a move on!" Solastalgia interjected quickly as he casually tossed an inordinate amount of firearms, ammunition and explosives into a duffel bag he had grabbed.  As he slung the incredibly heavy bag around his shoulder, he walked to a nearby cabinet that he had opened to reveal a small, matching cube-shaped refrigerator along with a freezer - filled entirely with ice.  

"Dook, grab that small cooler to your left on the counter, would you?"

He turned towards Collins as he had finished slinging an even larger duffel bag around his shoulder - one that Solastalgia himself couldn't quite comprehend as being able to be lifted - and noticed a look of incredible strain in Collins' face.

"Are you okay?" Solastalgia prompted.

"Hang on, I'm over-encumbered. I can't move." he replied, quickly removing a rifle that seemed to suddenly restore his movement.   He picked up the nearby cooler and handed it to him before peering into the contents of the refrigerator - several small sachets of blood with their respective names and types labeled accordingly.

"Wait, is this really necessary?" Collins said, giving a look of mild disgust at the sachets.

"Just a precaution.  I like being prepared." Solastalgia replied, taking the cooler from him to fill the container up with ice.  As he carefully took a bag labeled for Cameron, it was quickly snatched out of his hand.

"AB-? This isn't my blood type."

"I was a medic in the army.  You can accept any kind of blood.  You just need more of it if it isn't your type." Solastalgia replied nonchalantly, taking the blood pack out of Cameron's hands and into the cooler and placing an extra three packs inside before filling in his own.

"No you weren't, and that's completely fals-"

"Don't argue with me. Now, let's bring all of this back to the car." Solastalgia replied assertively as he held his free hand up, cutting him off before it could turn into one of the many, old married couple-esque debates they were notorious for having.   An hour later, they found themselves back in the same vehicle, this time being driven by Larry Lance Jr., heading to a small airstrip that hosted a plane scheduled for departure to Philadelphia.  As they waited in the backseat for the equipment in their trunk to be loaded on the plane, Solastalgia turned to Collins, who had been completely silent for the duration of the car ride.  

"..we're still going to be outnumbered, though." he said coolly, rekindling the discussion they were having in the café.

"I know." Collins replied, without so much as a flinch.

"So there's still a chance we might get killed from this." he continued.

"I know." he replied once more.  As Solastalgia readied his reply, Collins continued.

"I'm not afraid of the idea of dying.  The past few months have made me feel like I've lived too long, perhaps."

Solastalgia raised an eyebrow.  While he knew Cameron wasn't in the best of places mentally, it wasn't what he was expecting to hear from a man who was in his early thirties.

"..you're too young for that kind of nonsense.  Barring this operation screwing up, you have a long life ahead of you." he replied to Cameron, glancing out of the car window as he noticed Hamchop and Larry Lance Jr., attempting to repeatedly ram one of the enormous duffel bags through the small door of the plane.  Collins shook his head before responding.

"A long life isn't something I want if this is what I have to look forward to.  Our ambush in Italy put things into perspective, and the last few months have been difficult. I'm so tired now, Solsy. This is a young guy's game.  It's a constant rat race between the people inside, and a constant game of cat and mouse with the people on the outside. There's no out option for guys like us that doesn't involve a prison cell, or a body bag-"

"..or a paper mill." Solastalgia muttered to himself.  Thankfully, Collins didn't catch him as he continued his diatribe.  

"..and I'd rather die than wither away in a cell.  I plan on getting my revenge - that's all that matters, right now.  After that.. we'll see." he shrugged.  Glancing towards the plane, the two men both noticed that the duffel bags had finally been fitted inside the plane, and a welcoming gesture from Hamchop signaled that the plane was ready for takeoff.  Leaning forward to slip an extended parking ticket in the windshield of the vehicle, he opened the car door and made his way with Collins to the plane - eastbound to Philadelphia.

Over the next day, the two men made their necessary preparations and scouting at a warehouse in Bella Vista - the same location where an infamous firefight broke out just over a year ago; every inch of the immediate area was scoured for decent vantage points.  Finally, with the clock ticking dangerously close to the scheduled time of Tyler's midnight arrival, the two men got into position inside of the warehouse; on opposite ends of matching, large, nearly-impervious barriers not unlike the one T-Dawg had fought from valiantly a year ago, with their respective, giant duffel bags tucked by their feet, each holding an obscene amount of ammunition and explosives for the night ahead. While the plan, on paper, seemed sound in the idea of an ambush, Solastalgia couldn't shake the feeling after all that was said and done, in his long life, that this was one of these stupidest plans he had ever partaken in.  

Several minutes passed in silence before the shuffle of several hundred footsteps intruded the ears of the two men in the warehouse, and the two men straightened against their respective barriers, machine guns in hand, keeping out of sight from the various people lining up in the center of the warehouse - all eerily silent.

"Are we going to scan this place?" a voice shot across the warehouse, whom Solastalgia instantly recognized as TylerDurden.

"No time.  We have to make this quick.  Client wants us out there, quickly." an icy female voice replied - that of MarlaSinger.

"Money or not, I'm getting real sick of Delaware City being used as a pawn, guys." a third voice replied - RobertPaulson, presumably.

"I figure with the Government's tight freeze on private security contractors, the client just want to push the four cities into an early grave or a prison cell as fast as possible without being too conspicuous.  Get their capabilities up.  You know how it works, Robert." Tyler replied, trailing off before speaking again.

"We provide a valuable commodity in serving as ubiquitous cannon fodder.  Remember that.  Correct, men?"

What Solastalgia could only assume was a rhetorical question directed to the other individuals placed in the warehouse was responded to with complete silence; owing to their near-mindless nature, he supposed.  Taking a light sigh before what could be the last firefight of his life, Solastalgia gripped the machine gun strapped around his shoulder before a loud clink of metal landed in the general vicinity of the gathering crowd of Delaware City gang members - setting off a blast that took him by surprise; Collins had set off a grenade and began opening fire on the gang members brazenly.  Stepping from behind the barrier, Solastalgia joined him, firing at the crowd while attempting to resist the incredible amount of recoil generated by his machine gun - causing carnage from what he could only describe in his mind as an improbable, growing and absurd pile of bloody, exploding meat.  He ducked back behind the barrier as the surviving members began returning fire - which included Tyler, himself - but Collins continued, using the machine gun continuously in addition to a pistol he had equipped in his other hand.  As Solastalgia ducked out to return fire, Collins had started walking through the small river of bodies he had caused, continuing to fire as he navigated around them.  After what seemed like a lifetime of continuous fire, Solastlagia turned to Collins.

"Why the hell haven't you had to reload yet?" he asked - not even mentioning his complete lack of difficulty with the recoil of holding a machine gun with just one hand.

"Suspension of disbelief, Solsy." Collins yelled through the gunfire, casually ripping through several members of the Durden gang as he spoke.  Just as he was about to reply, a bullet returned fire and struck Collins leg, causing a loud yell, forcing him to cease fire as he limped and staggered to take cover behind a small legion of motorized scooters - as did Solastalgia.  The scuffle of footsteps coming in for the kill prompted Collins to quickly pull a pin from one of his grenades, lightly tossing it in the gang's direction, causing a miraculous, cartoonish amount of sprayed blood to decorate the immediate area of the blast point.  

Solastalgia covered Collins with continuous machine gun fire as he limped back to the barrier that held his duffel bag - judging by the brief glance he could take in the midst of fire, the two had inflicted an incredible amount of damage to the group and were left with just a handful of opponents - Tyler still absent from the growing pile of bodies.  Collins emerged from the barrier with fresh weaponry, taking two gang members by surprise as he fired relentlessly in their direction.  As time passed by and the firefight raged on, the gang dwindled slowly through the ceaseless parade of bullets before the confrontation dwindled down to just two, judging by the pile of bodies; Tyler and MarlaSinger. For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, the warehouse was completely silent - only being disturbed by the footsteps of Collins and Solastalgia.  

"They're still here.  I know it." Collins whispered, giving a slight groan - he had lost a significant amount of blood from the bullet wound he had sustained earlier, and his disorientation started to become noticeable.  

"How?" the Godfather responded, keeping his gun raised.

"Because I can see both of their shadows." Cameron responded, swiftly lunging forward to Solastalgia's side and turning to fire in an enclosed area; the Godfather couldn't react in time to cover Collins, only turning quickly enough to notice the brilliant spatter of blood that subsequently decorated the face of Collins, a look of satisfaction growing in his expression as he emptied the clip to his rifle.  With a final shot, Collins lowered his weapon; TylerDurden and MarlaSinger were dead.  For now.

"It's all over.  We're finished. I'm.. finished." Collins said with a sigh of relief, clenching his leg.

"Wait, what? That was a really cheap out to the storyli-"

"Unless you want to spend the rest of your life in prison, we're probably going to have to get out of here quickly, Solsy." Collins interjected, cutting the Godfather off.  With Solsatalgia assisting him out of the warehouse, the two men navigated their way out of the facility through the sea of bodies before a car sped towards them in the distance, picking up speed as it approached the entrance.  With seemingly no intention of stopping, the car raced closer and closer to the two men until it was apparent that they were the target; attempting to push Collins to his opposite side, the Godfather leapt out from the path of the car while a loud thud and an ensuing scream from Collins indicated that the car had made contact with at least one of its intended victims.

Scurrying back to his feet to gain his composure, Solastalgia turned to see his friend lying on the floor of the warehouse, the car having struck him almost at his center.  A gasp of air followed a cough of thick blood that indicated his state - Collins wasn't leaving this warehouse alive.  As the Godfather attempted to reach his pistol, the car door opened and revealed none other than Larry Lance Jr., a look of burning vengeance in his eyes, with a pistol in hand.  Running to the side of Collins,  the bodyguard cocked his pistol and aimed it at the head of Collins, who seemed oblivious to his surroundings before finally noticing the pistol aimed less than a foot away from him.  

"Drop the gun - now!" the Godfather yelled.  While he had no intentions of letting the bodyguard leave the warehouse alive, the undignified death of Collins being killed by his own hired protection was something Solastalgia refused to accept.

"No." Collins choked through his own blood, moving one of his hands in a sweeping direction towards Solastalgia. 

"This is between us."

Before Solastalgia could interject, the bodyguard pressed the gun into the skull of Collins before speaking.

"I'm going to give you a courtesy that you never gave my father; to look you in the eye.  Any last words?"

A look of familiarity overcame Collins as he seemed stared into the bodyguard's eyes; a man who bore the appearance of an individual he had arguably been responsible for the death of ages prior - a taxi driver he had unreasonably rushed in the hopes of catching a flight. With a final struggling breath, Collins replied, a smile forming on his face as he revealed a grenade pin that was placed in his mouth.

"No."

Before the bodyguard had a chance to fire, Cameron's head - along with the rest of his body - exploded in a spectacular panoply of human tissue from the grenade blast that instantly killed the two men, what was left of his lips still forming the "No." he had uttered just a second before. Attempting to overcome the shock of what had just occurred, the Godfather slowly lowered his gun as he looked on at what remained of the two men before a shuffle of familiar, waddling steps grew louder.

Hamchop emerged from the entrance of the warehouse with a pistol in hand as he scanned the immediate area for threats; Solastalgia's trusty bodyguard was tasked with operating one of the two getaway vehicles that were assigned to take them back to the airstrip after the operation was complete.  Giving a small grunt as he acknowledged the two men who had just died in front of Solastalgia, he signaled the Godfather to a vehicle that was parked outside of the warehouse, just in sight of the main street that left Bella Vista.  With the faint sound of police sirens growing louder, Solastalgia walked towards the vehicle, giving a final glance towards his fallen friend as they grew out of sight with every step he took.  Finally, he had reached the back seat of the car, and as Hamchop sped off of the premises, he gave an empathetic look through the car mirror as Solastalgia stared into nothingness as his mind processed what had just happened.  

The time that passed as Solastalgia and Hamchop made their return to the city Chicago seemed like a blur, and the detour they made to Detroit to inform Collins employer, Anomaly, didn't make it any easier on Solastalgia as he continued to relive the same bizarre, depressing final moments that claimed Collins' life.  Composure and peace of mind eluded Solastalgia for several weeks after returning to Chicago, and only after visiting the annex of the Human Resource Department of his business did he realize the meaning of Cameron's words; that life - on rare occasions - could be worse than death. 

Months later, Solastalgia found himself picking up the last of the ingredients needed to cook his pot-au-feu at a grocery store in the West Side of Chicago.  Passing by the produce section, his eyes wandered to the small section reserved for green vegetables until he stopped in his tracks; a display reserved for bok choy, Cameron's favourite vegetable.  Giving himself a slight smile coupled with a sigh, he placed two heads of the cabbage in his basket and made his way towards the cashier.