The air was cold and the wind was calm, as Kid and four of his most trusted bodyguards walked behind him. He was on his way to a very important drug deal, which could bring a fortune to the Godfather if everything went as planned. They walked in the little street where the deal was agreed to happen and Kid made out the familiar face of his friend, Dave. He was a cop, a crooked one, who had busted amateur drug dealers and was selling them cheap to the city’s Godfather in exchange of protection.

”Ya got the drugs?” asked the 10 year old, eyeing the cop closely. Something wasn’t right. He could feel it. The cop nodded and took out the drugs, seemingly nervous. “A hundy we had said... right?” The cop shook his head, before catching Kid’s eye contact and nodding quickly. “Good... see ya around bucko.” he said, grabbing the drugs and dropping the money. He turned around and noticed a single silhouette standing in the middle of the alley, gun pointed at the Blue Note leader. The little man looked around confused, noticing more men peaking out of the window with rifles and shotguns. What the fuck was this? 

“What the fuck do you guys want?” calmly asked the mob leader, hands in the air. The man in the alley pointed to the bag of drugs, staying silent. “Wait, you guys are the fucking Delaware gang aren’t ya? Durduns or some stupid shit like that... Anyways, you ain’t getting the fucking drugs.” A shot rang as he finished his sentence, and the man in the alley fell backwards, bullet in the brain. Kid looked at Chu with a satisfied smile, before ducking and running. It took a second before a wave of shots started and two of the Godfather’s bodyguards fell. They where clearly outnumbered... fuck. 

“ALRIGHT. Alright. Take the drugs and we’ll make sure that you guys have protection, just leave me and my guys alone..” he finally conceded in shame. One of the guys dropped from the window and grabbed the bag, spitting on the kid’s shoes. He turned around laughing and added something who put Kid out of him.

”That guy of yours, Victor Dallas yeah? I wouldn’t trust him if I where you, bahahahaha.”

The small man stormed into the HQ, fuming. How could his husband betray him like that? He could’ve died out there, what the fuck was he thinking? He regrouped the Blue Note family into the meeting room, and of course VictorDallas was missing. He sat down at the chair completely at the end and gave his orders.

”I want Victor Dallas to be a dead man.”

    Victor was more than a little bit drunk, he could admit that much at least. But who wasn't? It was a goddamn party! He was hitting the streets of Detroit up like there was no tomorrow his wonderful husband was the new Godfather! Victor was nearly done purging the infamous durden gang from Downtown. Both these are cause for celebration, are they not? 

  'Dice, women and illegal booze.' Victor thought to himself as he rolled the dice, screaming something about someone in the crowd's mother. He won! What a damn fine stroke of luck! People around him were angry and growing worse. The man he beat was as red in the face as a beat and steamed. One insult lead to another and suddenly someone drew his gun on Victor. 

 "Hey, hey come on now! No need to make this bloody over dice! Put it down mate.." 

 "You think this is about dice, kid? You don't fuck with the Durden gang!"

  Before Victor could fully register what the man said gunshots rang out and the man infront of him hit the pavement, as well as a few more thugs and gangsters around Victor. Across the parking lot 2 men got out of a black car, a mob car clearly. One of them pointed at Victor and whispered something to his friend. Before meeting Victor's gaze.

  "Warm regards from Godfather Ravi, Dallas."

  'This is it, it's either fight or flight. The time to shine. They're not taking me out without a fight.'

 Victor turned and sprinted toward the rapidly dispersing crowd. Fuck this, he's not drunk enough to try to fight two armed men. He also knew damn well they werent going to fire machine guns into a crowd of innocent bystanders. Victor bolted around the corner and into the streets. He had to get to his safehouse and figure out what the fuck is going on.

Later that night, at an undisclosed location

  Victor finished off the bottle of whiskey he was drinking and flung it at the wall. Those slippery ass fucking Durdens set him up. He had to fake his death to get the Blue Note hitmen off his back while he could set things right. Victor took a long drag off his cigarette and stared at the deceased Durden propped up on a chair across from him. They needed to think he was dead, that's the only way this would work. Victor stood up and opened a window. The fucking smell of gasoline was unbearable. Just as he did so he spotted the men hunting him across the street. 

  'Good. If they see me then maybe this scheme will actually work.'

  Victor walked to the fire escape on the other side of the apartment and climbed through his window. He paused to take one final drag off the dart then threw it into his room. The butt landed square at the feet of the dead man. Within seconds most of the room was ablaze. Victor rushed down the fire escape and pulled up his collar so nobody would recognize him. Time to get to work.  Chase a few rats back to their hideouts. Should be easy. Exterminating the hideout? Now thats a challenge. He's gonna need some help. He called up a few friends, who he knew he could trust.

The Rat's Hideout, 2 weeks later.

  Victor stared at the apartment in disbelief. It was a ratty second floor shithole that doubles as a whorehouse for the economically disadvantaged. They were standing there for about 20 minutes and they already saw someone overdose. No police were called, the mans body was dragged inside by a real shady looking motherfucker. Victor could only shudder at the thought of what was being done with him.

 "These are the rats that hit us? Tyler Durden doesn't keep his members living very well. Lets show them what happens when you fuck with Detroit boys!"

 Victor, Fat Sal, and James loaded their machine guns and went inside. The inside was somehow even worse than the outside. The paint was peeled off long ago, there were bloodstains on the floor and people were sleeping under the staircase. Victor only sighed and motioned the  others up the stairs. It didn't take long to find the right apartment, it was the only one that still had a door on its hinges. Victor made sure it didn't stay that way.

  The door flew off its rusted hinges when Victor kicked it open and the trio rushed inside. The Durdens inside drew their guns too late and they were all shot down, save one. The one he recognized as Robert Paulson. Victor put his boot into the grovelling rat's face and pressed it into the floor. He sang like a canary. Victor picked up a brick of cocaine on the table and made sure it was the right stuff. 

"Sal, Falcone. Go to the warehouse with the van outside and collect the stuff. I'll deal with this schmuck. Meet me at the HQ when you're done."

 Victor didn't kill the man. He waited for awhile, giving Sal time to collect the drugs. Once he was sure he waited long enough Victor rose, drew his knife and took 4 of the mans fingers without warning. He picked one of them up and cleaned it off, stuffing it inside a ringbox. This will make a fine gift to Ravi.

"Tell Tyler Durden what happened here, dog. Make sure he knows, in case he's stupid, this means we're coming for him."

 He left the shitty apartment without another word. The sound of a killer begging for mercy made him sick.

Blue Note Headquarters

 This is it. Time to see if this wasn't all for nothing. He spotted Sal and James waiting in the van and felt a small amount of relief. He walked up to the doors and was immediately confronted. He expected as much, obviously. He just hoped they'd listen to him.

"Howdy boys. Take me to the boss, I ain't armed. I just want to talk." 

 The bodyguards looked at each other and let him inside, after a lengthy frisk. Typical. People just can't keep their hands off of him. 

 They pushed Victor inside a large room, filled with his crew mates. The briefing room, he knew. Everyone there looked at him with shocked and sad looks, he even noticed a few with their hands on their piece. Victor reached into his jacket pocket and set a brick of designer coke onto the table along with a small ringbox that he handed directly to Ravi. 

 "Surprise, I ain't dead. I didn't rat you out boss. Deep down I know you know it. I know that's hard to believe but I come bearing gifts. I recovered every grain of your coke and even something extra. You'll wanna see it, trust me." 

All Kid could think about was the fact that his husband wasn’t dead. What the actual fuck? His bodyguards had assured them he was a dead man...

“Very well Victor, I was wrong about you. I deeply apologize about that, it seems your a man of loyalty and hard work after all... now hand me that box will you?” he asked, and Chu immediatly grabbed the box and slid to the Godfather’s end of the table. The little man opened it, and as it revealed the finger, he couldn’t help but smile. “Exquisite, that will fit perfectly with my horn collection...”

”Now that you’re here, I guess I’ll make the announcement. You’ve shown loyalty, hard work and dedication to Blue Note. You have earned the opportunity to lead your own family, as my captain in Downtown Detroit! Congratulations brother!”