"Was it me or did this kiddo just say 'Lol'...what on earth is he smoking..."

he shrugs a little

watches the exchange that is going on with some amusement

Okay so which one of you is the big boy that did it and ran away? Honestly what the hell was all that about -Legend- was that actually necessary to this conversation? No, then shut the hell up I'm trying to tempt the pig to eat bacon!

Looks over at Hildebrand

The man wants a sandwich no one else even bothered to ask him what he wanted on it. What's your point?

I really do not need to say anymore regarding that incident, Legend.  Anyone with a grain of knowledge of how this thing of ours works understands my point, and anyone who knows the history of my bloodline knows that I generally make the right call.  You're just making yourself look foolish with your whining about the past.

As for your chest puffing...it really doesn't work for you.  I will gladly settle this matter in any way you see fit.  I'm also willing to bet that the Vegas odds makers will not be on your side.

I would say all the chaos and carnage has been detrimental to the poor guy. Not everyone can endure the strain that this life occasionally puts on someone.

Hildebrand chuckles

Archangel, I believe I may have mistaken your note taking for sarcasm. If it was, then I have nothing much to say. I am just enjoying the cool night air, mingled with the hot running temper of -Legend- over here. A nice dichotomy.

While I'm not a Vegas odds make, I'd have to agree with FlyingPig.

Legend shakes his head, uncontollable rage slowly departing from his mind. The words of his fathers' journals handed down to him fading from immediate memory.

My father before me had strong feelings about his situation, he spoke to me about it ever since I was a boy. The emotion expressed in his eyes when telling the story was unbearable to me at that age to the point of shedding tears for his pain. Kind people, forgive my words I ask of you. I was out of place. Hearing the name echoed in the streets presented the oppurtunity of confrontation that never presented itself in the times of my fathers and grandfathers before me. I hope you understand.

He then looks over at what Archangel was fooling with.

Perhaps a sandwich and whiskey to calm the nerves?

It's sarcasm up to a point, if the man is willing to show me some green and then eat the bacon. I'll more than happily go and get it for him.

For a price obviously, if he's willing to exchange all his knowledge in return for a sandwich then to me that's not actually a bad business deal.

Miley, dressed in a trashy tank top and short shorts (displaying a striking resemblance to a corner whore), flicks her cigarette to the ground after hearing the discussion and approaches the small crowd that has gathered

Shedding tears? What are you, a fucking woman?

Miley chuckles and winks at Legend, before continuing

For a minute there, I thought you were the late Gaius. A man who all too frequently broke down and cried on these streets.

Miley adjusts the tissues in her training bra, before continuing

I think the lesson here is that when the pig speaks, we all must listen and abide. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to using my underdeveloped body to acquire free cigarettes and whiskey from lonely shopkeeps.

Miley struts off to the nearest speakeasy, flashing a little skin to the doorman as passes through the doorway

Sam Carollo saunters over to porkypig. I'm sure that was supposed to humurous and witty. Unfortunately like all over used material it has all be said before. You only got the canned laughs. Yeah, we're retarded with our thumbs stuck up our arses, yeah you're shiney and beautiful, and yes of course you will rise up with a flock of lemmings to hold the lives of hundreds in your hands only to smash them to pieces for being retarded and not fucking off when told. Forgive me if I don't rush to get in line. Sam turns to leave and stops. Oh yeah, I want to keep up with the fine example you have set here, so go ahead and fuck off now. The man laughs out loud as he turns to find a lamp post to lean against.

You pretty much hit the nail on the head, Sam.  The only problem is that you do not have the option of whether to get in line.  You're already in line, you just don't realize it.

Sam stops and listens while the pig speaks. I don't think you have the slightest clue what I might realize to be honest Pig. Certainly what you posit could be true. Maybe all lines cross and I am in line barreling toward an inevitable fate. In that case let me say what you'll need to hear from me the day I won't say it. Try less sledgehammer and more scalpel.

Actually, I've always been a fan of the squeaky hammer.

nips into a novelty shop then runs back out brandishing Mallets Mallet

It's wackaday, oh wait that's all kinda stopped now.

offers the Mallet to FlyingPig

use this if you like.

I'm not sure I can necessarily judge the decision that was made by your ancestors FlyingPig seeing as I don't know them, but either way the whole city was wiped out. No one can argue that. I've known your bloodline quite a while and always have had respect for them but you speak as if no one knows anything about Cosa Nostra yet you as a Thug are out here arguing with Bosses and such. That's where you lost me, but then again for someone to judge of something they know nothing about is pure ignorance anyway.

Looking at FlyingPig and around at the spectators Sc0pe has a bland look on his face.

I see nothing has changed with your bloodline. Cursing and arguing with just about anything with a pulse regardless of rank, position of power and so on and so forth even though you're not above them in rank. Now I'm sure I'll get some "Fuck you too buddy" response which I look forward to. Good day.

Min fights off a yawn of boredom then speaks up loud enough to be heard over the typical bullshit following the multi-annual "I am Pig Hear Me Roar" speach.

The ego, it is representative of your most esteemed bloodline.. You even make a similar explosive appearance in the streets as they do.. Again and again and again. It must be genetic to be a self-absorbed asshole who feels that his birthright includes the privilege of being an over-indulged prick. I know you not panhandle for gifts of cash and that new currency people call credits to be left on an altar set up to worship how great you truly are because of your recyclable name.. Add something to it even if it's just a generational tag like "FlyingPigTheOneHundredAndFiftieth".

Your ancestors were good at what they did.. I give THEM props for that. However, I feel the obvious inbreeding it must take to result in such exact replicas must be watering down some of those famed skills. This is where a normal asshole such as myself should, and probably would on a normal day, throw in jokes about Arkansas and Alabama, but I shall refrain. That earth shattering performance of your father, brother, uncle, cousin, and/or grandfather (Is there a chance it is all of the above?) prior to DLS's death makes me wonder if the Piggeh genes are still the most desired around. Maybe they've fallen down a shelf or two in the worldwide gene pool during the last clean. I won't go into that whole mess as it's done and done and no sense in spilling milk when it goes so much better with cookies. I know for a fact that he wasn't the first one to have "vision problems" when stalking a target and that the same fault has occurred in other generations only difference is the people that called for the heads of LA covered your ancestor's asses.

Maybe the high performance, passionate "Piggeh's" are long gone, like the unicorns of Amber...

I do ask one thing, if you can find it in your heart? Don't resurrect "The Verbal Diarrhea of a Pig" or whatever your familial claim to fame was. Your bloodline has used up all possible ways of saying how much we all suck and how dang fantastically awesome you (or whichever number the current clone is.)

Don't see this as an insult, see this as a challenge to yourself to rise to the heights you feel your genes entitle you to being accepted upon arrival. The heights many of us know you are more than capable of achieving. That is if you have it in you...

Min, if you are trying to get a date with me, you are going about it the completely wrong way.

Damn. Here I was hoping to get you hot and bothered enough to need a few tissues.

Mr. pig, i am impressed. you managed to insult every mobster. most of whom would now be more then happy to shoot you in the leg and let you bleed out slowly. you then somehow got yourself into a crew.

let me make this simple enough for you. you are now a nobody. noone gives a shit how loudly you say we're crap. and we've been doing just fine without you.

one more thing. if you choose to insult my response to your dribble, please at least be origanal.

Caesar pats pig on the back and hands the man an envelope.

Welcome home pig, welcome home.

Chuckling for a moment Sc0pe looks at Caesar with a smile.

I half expected a "That'll do pig, that'll do."

8 years on. Same bitches bitching about the same fucking stuff. Just remembered why I quit. So long folks.