:The bright lights held a stark contrast to the dark streets that the gang was used to, and Sly squinted against the glare as TheGodfatherLives careened down the strip:

“Slow down,” Sly said. “It’s raining.  Save the speeding for on the way out.”

:TheGodfatherLives slowed, shifted out of the passing lane, and fell into line among the traffic.  He focused his attention, instead, on the passing sights:

“Remind me again, boss,” TheGodatherLives asked, “How are we going to MAKE money at the casino again?  All I ever do is LOSE money, when I’m there.”

“Don’t you worry about that, my lad,” DarkSpike responded.  “The boss and I have been working on this plan for quite a while.  This one should yield some lucrative results.  You just worry about driving the car, and trust us.”

:It was true.  Sly had been trying to work out a plan ever since he heard an extended story about the lucrative exploits of the Las Vegas casinos weeks ago.  Now, gliding under the bright lights of Delaware City’s casino district, it excited him to see his plan coming to fruition:

The remainder of the ride was silent.  TheGodfatherLives slowed to a gentle stop outside Delaware Park and shifted the vehicle to park.  Another car followed closely, and, when it, too, was parked, Sly saw Dayman exit with a group of associates in tow.  He used the crank to roll down his window in the back seat.

“You’re with the youngsters, Dayman,” Sly yelled out.  “Remember, we want you guys to put on a show, but don’t get anybody killed.  No body bags in Delaware tonight.  These fucking Durdens were laughing at me yesterday.  We need to show them what they get when they fuck with Philadelphia.”

:Dayman simply nodded, and TheGodfatherLives pulled away: