The dust has finally settled in the sands of the arena in our new post-war era. While men of more common stature stand with empty hands, good Batiatus has found himself blessed with good fortune, having secured a position of fucking prominence in New York's most reputable boroughs under Barry. It is time to seize opportunity by the balls while lesser men stand holding cock. I have heard rumor that to gain favor with men above one's station, one must train their weapon. I will achieve this by the Taking of Fucking Contract! With each forthcoming shot report, Barry and Godfather Curtis will marvel at my wares, their intentions nudging toward my desires. Prosperity beyond measure is within my reach.

You will be given the name of a someone who needs to be taught a permanent lesson. You will be given a name and a location, it may take up to 5 minutes to complete the job.

Make them beg on their knees and look you straight in the eyes before you pull the trigger.

Oh but I shall. With the God of Jupiter as my witness I fucking shall! No quarter given, no mercy shown. Behold!

A booming, angry voice from behind you makes you jump. Turning around you find your Boss charging toward you, a folder in hand. Tossing it at you they growled a quick, "Loose lips sink ships, you remember that one," before stalking off down the hall toward their office.

Barry's orders startle good Batiatus! Barry is of sour mood today, his neck growing weary from constant strenuous exertion carrying such massive weight. If his neck could form words it would ask that Barry lay down for a spell so that it could rest. Barry throws his folder at me as if I were a common slave, the frown on his small face disproportional to the rest of his gargantuan scarred head. I open the folder and read it's contents...

Angelo_Hadland that cocksuck! I shall rise to fucking occasion!  Barry gives voice to desire, and Batiatus will see desire satisfied! I will see this cow Angelo-Hadland to the afterlife and accrue his head as trophy to be displayed prominently in The House of Barry! GLORY to the Warehouse! Let Angelo_Hadland's death send out a warning, to all others that would seek to betray you, good Barry!

Angelo_Hadland was spawned in Hollywood, Los Angeles.
Success! The hunt is on!

My eyes lay sight upon preening shit-eater Angelo_Hadland in the town centre. My teeth clench as I unsheathe fucking firearm from robe and sulk into the shadows, awaiting opportunity to make itself present. I have but a minute to slay this man before some shitfuck takes my contract and claims my glory as his own. With steady hand, I take aim at Angelo_Hadland, when from out of the shadows a commoner looking to exchange coin for cocaine approaches me. He knows me as a man of elevated status, one capable of procuring the sale of cocaine units exceeding 40. We exchange coke and coin...

You were thrown in the slammer!

FUCK! I have let my purpose succumb to greed and have found myself locked away in the magistrate's cell while Angelo_Hadland walks freely through the town centre, my contract exposed to any thieving cunt who wishes to slay him and steal my contract, a contract rightfully belonging to The House of Batiatus. I press towards escape!

Make Your Daily Call
Make a call to someone that could be helpful.

Brilliant! I reach out to the masses... "FREEDOM for Batiatus," I exclaim into the phone!

You got hold of Paul-Bunyan and let them know you need busted out.

Ah good Paul-Bunyan, a man of noble breeding. Surely he will make fucking haste and free me from my chains!

But no. sigh. I rot in prison like a whore while Paul-Bunyan fingers assholes in the town's centre, Angelo_Hadland's death falling further from my grasp. Perhaps a witness account to a murder will persuade the guard to grant freedom to good Batiatus so I can see task to fucking completion! I make my proposal to the guard. The guard nods, agreeing to my generous bribe.

Rats.. I hate them...But what you say checks out. I guess we can shorten your time here a bit, but you ain't getting out of here yet. Now get the hell back to your cell before I change my mind!'

Thieving whore shits upon honorable agreements and presses for fresh demands! I offer up further witness information...

Rats.. I hate them...But what you say checks out. Get the hell out of my jail, before I throw you back into your cell out of spite!

Your sentence is up. You are free to go

I make haste to the town centre to find Angelo_Hadland procuring the services of a prostitute alongside Paul_Bunyan, my questions as to why he did not free me immediately from Bubba's clutches explained. This treachery will not be soon fucking forgotten, Paul-Bunyan. But on to the task at fucking hand! I unholster my weapon from my robe, Angelo_Hadland in my sights.... I squeeze the trigger to see this rat fuck to the afterlife....

You pull the trigger and nothing happens. You need to turn the safety off.

Fucking Phil fucking Steak and his fucking gun safety switch that fucking CUNT!!! May the Gods spread his cheeks and curse them to an eternity of constant ramming in the afterlife!!! What's next... the CristianoRonaldo Memorial parental fucking lock??? FUCK!

I switch the cocksucking Phil_Steak Commemorative Safety Switch as Angelo_Hadland steps back into the town centre and yell out to the masses "Glory to the House of Barry you loose-lipped cunt!" I squeeze the trigger

Success! Dat bum's swimmin with da fishes.

You WACKED! Angelo_Hadland

Hail Batiatus

Ah the good and now very noble Batiatus I do delight in the extraordinary tales from your magnificent life, your rise to prominence has been a joy to behold, I do though however find it absolutely disgraceful that  a fellow mobster did not aid you with your freedom when asked, Shame on you Paul_Bunyan!

Thankfully the gods were smiling down on you for once and sent you a greedy fuckin guard although they did seem to still ram a bit of cock by making the said guard too fuckin greedy.

ALL HAIL BATIATUS!!!

Barry had been pleased discover upon his arrival at the Warehouse today that his Angelo_Hadland problem had been taken care of. The man had been little more than a street punk when Barry had first met him, but by the time of his return to Brooklyn with Factory, young Angelo had grown and developed into something of a businessman, complete with his own empire. All well and good you might think, in this age of opportunity, but not when he had one hand on his gun and the other on the phone to the local cop shop to carry out his will. He had made the mistake of threatening Factory's expansion and that would never do, so Barry had decided to make an example of the man. He allowed himself a smile of satisfaction at the thought of his demise. 

"Hail Batiatus" Barry muttered to himself as he thumbed through his report. He made a mental note to once again curse the memory of Phil_Steak and his stranglehold over the health and safety police that caused such annoyance to infect all firearms from that day to this. Beard would hear of this in Chapel. Oh yes.

Ahhh, mental musings.  We all have them.  We all have our own rituals that we go through before we decide that we actually want to pull the trigger and end someone else's life.  Call them habits. Call them quirks.  Call them what you want.  But I know exactly what will be going through my mind in that instant before I put my finger on the trigger.....

"Did I remember to switch the cocksucking Phil_Steak Commemorative Safety Switch?"