Mystery Machine HQ

Summerlin, Las Vegas

A warm soothing breeze rolled through the main living room of the Mystery Machine's headquarters, making the curtains on each side of the room sail back and forth, in a motion of which the sound produced by its light brushing was only interrupted by Jones' casual coughing. Sitting in a Victorian-styled armchair with his legs crossed, he read the latest edition of the Mob Truffle while occasionally sipping on a cold tea and grunting about his recently injured shoulder.

Shaggs was probably in his office handling paperwork, and aside from the maid working on the first floor, there was no one else inside. The family was out conducting business and our gangster had to stay at home for a few days to heal his bullet-wound and recover strength. Jones wasn't the type of person to snooze on business, or to sit idly by without a mission or purpose that would demand a lively day.

This one day however, was proving to be a demand on his patience, which the heat of the Mojave Desert had already shortened in large effect. After having read every article in the newspaper at least three times, he got up and started putting away the books that were laying across the room back into their respective bookshelves.

"Look at this mess. Everybody picks them up, nobody puts them back." - He said while stacking them in the coffee table in the center of the room, realizing after a while he was the one who had spread most if not all of them. - "I've got to show this one to Joy, she's going to love the..."

He heard a scream from below that sounded like the maid's, startling him at first and making him sigh after realizing what she was saying. He walked downstairs, and found her on top of a chair, grabbing her skirt and screaming at the door of the broom closet.

"Henriqueta, we already had this conversation. You're not supposed to go inside Tony's old office. He is very protective of thi..."

"Rat! There's a rat, signor Junez."

"Alright, calm down. Let's see what we've got here."

Jones opened the closet's door and while leaning against its jamb he introduced his arm in the room and searched for the light-switch cord. When the light went on the maid started screaming again.

"Ahhhy dios mio! Signor Juneez..."

He was about to lose his patience but the woman started to cry, so he just sighed again and peaked a look inside. There was certainly a rat in there, but he was laying on his back with his arms open, on top of a pool of dark blood. "Good job Henriqueta." He smiled back to the maid, whose face was hidden behind her tiny hands, sobbing. "Alright, alright. Come on now." He helped the strong woman down the chair and gave her the rest of the day off, she had been traumatized enough for the day.

After grabbing a trash bag from the kitchen and crouching next to the dead rat, he noticed something peculiar about this scene. There were three tiny holes on his stomach, and another one on his head. "An execution." Jones looked around the closet for something sharp and found a pocket knife on top of an old edition of the Tijuana Bible. He grabbed the rodent's tail, lifting him and turning his furry body in front of his face for a quick inspection. "You. Got stabbed."

By laying the rat back on the floor and scrapping his belly with the knife he noticed the holes ripped his skin in an top-down motion. "Yep." Jones inserted the tip of the blade on the rat's forehead wound and heard a metallic click. "Bullet's inside. This rat was wacked. I've got to tell Tony about this." He whispered to himself while putting the rat in the trash bag. "But first, I'll pay a friendly visit to a cheese-eating fanatic I know."

A Word of Note

"Cheesy Thumbs" Guzik was the man, I mean rat, Jones wanted. A roguent (rogue rodent, got it? hehe... ok, ok, no more rat jokes), and a survival expert that had once been the main hitter for a family based off the kitchen area, up until the time Tony Fat Whiskers decided to move into the building and wacked his entire family, all by himself. The word on the corridors is that Cheesy Thumbs was lucky enough to escape at the cost of both his thumbs, became a rogue and decided to be a neutral party in a house fragmented by territorial upheaval. Where every gang owns one or more divisions and the kitchen is king.

Up until now, the broom locker was out of boundaries for everyone. TonyCastelli made sure no one would enter his office, no matter how big their teeth. When he left to make his own crew, the status quo that he had once established by creating the policy of no rat-on-rat killing inside the house and no rat presence in his office, was challenged. And whoever had decided to challenge Tony's policy and restart the gang-wars was sending a clear message by breaking it where it's enforcer used to make his business, in the broom locker.

All rats in the house must have been aware of the news by now, but the only who would probably talk to Jones was Cheesy Thumbs, who happened to be a lover of Leicestershire Cheese.

"There you go." Jones whispered to himself while placing a tiny cube of Leicestershire on a small plate. Crouched next to a hole on the wall of the broom closet, he pushed the plate of cheese at a strategical distance. Close enough for "Cheesy Thumbs" to smell it, but far enough that he couldn't run back into safety without being caught after he had made it to the plate. Jones waited, leaning against the wall in perfect stillness for at least ten minutes, until a tiny furry nose came out sniffing through the hole and then disappeared.

Five more minutes and suddenly he heard a squeaky voice in the room. "You must take this rat for a fool, duzy." Jones got away from the wall and looked around in an attempt to find the little guy. "You must have known, if you are using Guzik's favorite delicacy and thus surely trying to find Tha Guzik, that he is no easy catch, duzy."

"Alright, you got me. I just want to talk Cheesy Thumbs. I want to know who did this and what's going to happen now."

"Curiosity killed the cat." Said the rat, and then Jones heard a series of squeaks and biting. Is that how rats laugh? It sounded weird, but he continued. "Or was it fat Tony? Yes, everybody says Fat Whiskers Tony killed a cat once. With bare hands. Must have been very curious cat, duzy."

"Tony has got the kitchen, why would he start a war? You on the other hand, you have more than enough reasons to start this war and make the killer of you family pay for what he did to you."

"Duzy, you offend Guzik by making him think you are smart enough to understand the rat politics. Guzik is in terrible danger now, why would he put himself in this position? It was all business, Guzik doesn't take it personally that his family died. Tony is fat, decadent. He needed action, he had it."

Jones already had suspicions of Fat Whiskers, Cheesy Thumbs could be saying the truth. If he was, he needed to deal with the Kitchen Boss and he needed someone the intricacies of the politics and the corridors that ran inside the walls. He needed Guzik.

"Very well. You need to help me kill Fat Whiskers. If you don't, I'll poison the whole building down and your kind will cease to exist."

Guzik laughed again. "You ask too much and offer nothing in return. You offend Guzik again, duzy. If Guzik helps, you make Guzik godfather of kitchen."

"Deal. I'll be back." Jones stormed out of the closet before the rat could say anything more and ran upstairs towards Shaggs office to tell him everything that had happened. He surely would want to know of this, and help decide the best move.