Gavin Byrne took several unsteady steps out of the East Cat Tavern before resting a hand against a lamppost. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them he saw Madeline's Meatball Sub Shop.

Meatballs. Delicious meatballs.

"BILLIAM! KILLIAM! WHOEVER ELSE IS BACK THERE!"

He turned to then with a grin that would be described as wicked if he weren't so shitfaced.

"Let's raid some fuckin' meatball sammiches..."

He took one step, stumbled, recovered, and slowly made his way toward the shop, ticking things off on his fingers as he went.

"We need a safe cracker, a lookout, a muscle, and a driver..."

He took a deep breath.

"I am obviously the muscle."

William coughed. Gavin glared at him.

"Fine William is the muscle. Killian can you crack a safes? Or do you wanna be lookout?"

Killian's far to red eyes looked over at Gavin. 

"Fawkin' meatball subs! Aye, lets do it then." 

He pulled a flask from his pocket and took a long swing from it, followed by an even longer drag from his probably far too short cigar stub. 

"I got eye'sh like a hawk. I'll be lookin' out for... people.. and the subs. I'll be lookin' out for the subbies!" 

He was more then likely a bit too loud for the job they were about to pull.

"Stupid Gavin, guy beats you up once and thinks he's all tough." William thought to himself as he stumbled along behind the other two, bleary eyed and dizzy. Guy put together a hell of a night at the pub though. He almost salivated thinking of the addition to the night of one of the meatball subs he'd heard so much about.

"I ca' go for a sammich. Juss tell me what I gotta punsh or lift. Maybe gimme something ta lean on for a minute."

He tottered over to the lamp post recently vacated by Gavin and leaned on it head first with a soft thump. Taking a few deep breaths to sort out the spinning, he realized they were still missing something.

"Hey Gavin, did you shay a driver? You gotta see straight to drive, right? Do we got a sober guy?"

In an epiphany he realized who they needed and he started to shout to the others as he lurched away from the pole slightly quicker than he ought to have.

"RABBITSH...oof..." William closed his eyes and forced his stomach to settle back down before he continued, "We gotta call Misser Rabbit. Roger'll be able to drive."

"We'll call Robber when we get inside. He can drive. We'll gettim some meatballs to go."

Gavin nodded so enthusiastically that he nearly tipped over. Recovering, the three men moved slowly in the direction of the meatball sub shop, wavering back and forth and occasionally bumping into each other. When they got to the door, Gavin knocked. No one answered, unsurprising for the dead of night. He looked at William and winked.

"Alright, musshel. Knock the door down."

When they reached the building Killian leaned against the wall next to the door. He took another pull from his cigar stub, only to burn his lip in the process. He flinched and dropped the cigar.

"Shit! Damn cigar!" He rubbed his face. "I'm still tryin' to figure out how a rabbit ish goinna drive us..."

"He's a shmart bunny. Now shtand back!" William swaggered up to the door. At least in his mind he did, in reality it looked more like an audition for worst dancer in Philadelphia. Then he made a show of shaking out his arms and turning a shoulder to the door before he thrust himself forward.

It would have probably been more effective without the stumble, he had to admit as he found himself tipped forward against the door to stay standing. He pushed himself back upright and looked around at his partners in crime with a chuckle.

"That was juss practash...pracky....a warm up. Lemme try again." This time William took a couple steps back and closed his eyes, focusing away the warm fuzziness from the whiskey for a few moments before shouting a loud cry and charging headlong at the door. With a resounding crack the door broke away from its hinges and fell to the ground under William's bulk, his feet flipping up in the air as he settled onto the ground atop it. After the initial shock of the landing faded, William couldn't help but start laughing.

"Thatsh fun! You guys should try!" After a couple attempts to extract himself from the battered entryway, he reached out a hand for help up.

Killian had completely spaced out when William started his assault on the door. The loud crash that followed cause him to jump, stumble and then fall on his rear.

"Holy hell! What in the feck was that?!" 

The laughter that followed from the now empty doorway snapped Killian back into the task at hand. He joined in on the laughter, clutching his side as a few tears began to stream down his face. The inebriation only elevated his enjoyment of this regularly mundane moment.

"Aye, set.. set it back up. I'll have a go at it!"

He pushed himself back up the wall, practically crawling up it to a stand. 

Gavin was only slightly jealous as William flopped on top of the door. Damn it... he'd have to do that to the exit door. As Killian lifted himself to his feet, Gavin grabbed his shoulders.

"Kay. Killian. You can do that. But stay out here. And lookout. If anyone's comin'... yell... "look out!"... and then Willem and I will know to start shooting at you. Around you. Whatever."

He nodded, then turned to head inside. With the exception of the door being knocked off its hinges, the place was all cleaned up for the night. He walked up to William, noticing another door at the entrance- and this one was glass. Good thing they'd picked the back door. They were in the kitchen now, and some offices with closed doors. But who cared about offices when there were meatballs? Gavin clumped through the dining area, bumping against the wooden furniture. After a few minutes of fumbling, he managed to turn the light on and illuminuate the green and yellow colors of the shop. Returning to the kitchn, he stared at the large refrigerator, then back to the stove. Then back to the refrigerator.

"Willem do you know how... strove? stove? If not Imma call Tara."

He blinked.

"KILLIAN DO YOU KNOW HOW TO STOVE COOK?!"

"A stove?"

LoveGun pipped up. She had been with them the whole time. She swears. She gives Gavin a look.

"I know how to oven cook."

It comes out with a sly grin.

"I know how to people oven cook. I be meanin', how to cook people in an oven. How to cook an oven with people. As a person. As a person with hands. I HAVE HANDS!"

LoveGun cackles and then slaps Gavin's drunk ass. She saunters over to the oven and starts messing with the knobs and switches. LoveGun can feel the eyes of each of the party boring into the back of her head. She swivels around to address them.

"Stop yer learnin' I know what I be doin' ya just need to give me some space."

She returns to the nobs. Turns one, one of the biggest on aggressively. LoveGun smells the gas in the air instantly. She pulls a matchbox from her pocket. It's soaking wet from the swim she took earlier. Her hand goes back into the same pocket and pulls out another, this one dry. She pops the box open, pulls out a match and strikes it against the side of the box. Flame bursts to life. LoveGun blows it out. She realized she could ooo and ahh her crowd. Once again she turns.

"Looky here you fools...FRIENDS!"

LoveGun corrects herself and gives Killian a smile. Then she immediately and over dramatically opens the matchbox, takes out a match and strikes it aggressively against the side. A flame burns in her palm. The fun crowd didn't seem to notice. LoveGun sighed and turned back to the stove. She thought about preheating the oven for the gang and tossing them all in before realizing they wouldn't all fit in. She'd have to hack them up. She wasn't in the mood for such a mess. She had things to do. LoveGun lit the burner and announced it to the gang.

"Yer stove is on!"

A smiled beamed from her face. A smile that was only half friendly.

"Now, I be havin' some very impor'ant things to be gettin' to. Like usin' th' Bryn Notice to help me friend squirrel build his house in the tree in th' park."

And with that LoveGun left. 

Killian took a final swig from his flask, emptying the contents. He nodded at Gavin and held up his hand in an 'OK'.

"Aye, look out, got yeh." 

Killian stood outside, looking up and down the street. 'I've got to piss like a race horse' he thought to himself. As he turned to face the wall he heard the shouting coming from inside.

"WHAT? I'M TAKING A PISS!"

He craned his neck to see into the doorway, only to see an unfamiliar person inside.

"Shit! LOOK OUT!" 

He nearly got caught in the zipper trying to get his pants back on. He quickly moved into the doorway, only to catch the smile from LoveGun. A familiar face to the rest, maybe? 

William blinked and watched as a pirate woman showed up, lit the stove, and left. He took a minute to look between the stove, the woman, and Gavin and when the woman left he craned his neck around the corner watching her leave before he turned back to his friend.

"Did a pirate lady jush make everything better?" Thinking to the last time a woman showed up in both their lives so quickly and left them to each other he playfully grinned. "Is thish a part where we beat the hell outta each other?" William snickered at his own comment and went to the fridge to pull out the meatballs.

There were so many glorious things he could hardly pick, so he grabbed the first tray he saw: Pork Meatballs. He unwrapped the tray and stuffed it into the now lit oven. He quickly realized that they'd need a sauce too and rifled through several cabinets before locating a tub of the classic tomato sauce. He opened the stove back up and plopped it over the top of the morsels, but bumped his hand on the metal inside mildly burning himself. When he jerked back and gave a quick yelp of pain the tub clattered to the floor, splattering sauce over everything within three feet of the landing zone and leaving the floor looking like they'd shot someone. Or some tomato.

"Whoops. Shorry buddy." Another little snicker rattled off as he looked at Gavin and saw the splatter marks. At least they had time to clean up while they waited for the food to finish cooking.

Gavin hadn't been idle- he was rifling through the refrigerator to try to find some bread. There were a few leftovers in the fridge and Gavin laid out all six of them on the counter. Somewhere in this process he heard a giant bang and shout; he was halfway to grabbing his gun when he realized he'd been shot. No, not shot. Hit with tomato sauce. Mostly on his pants and shoes.

Gavin wasn't one for cleaning up, so he wandered off and took a tour. When he came back, he was grinning.

"Hey... you guys remember that shady guy who told us to raid this place? What if he wasn't talking about meatballs? What if he wanted... monies?"

He let the word hang there for a moment before rolling up his sleeves and approaching the safe. He rested an ear on the top and began slowly spinning the dial back and forth. The meatballs were cooking, and William and Killian kept looking back and forth between Gavin and the meatballs. After a while, Gavin sat back down on the floor and looked up at the other two men with an expression of confusion.

"I... don't know how to crack safes... at least we can raid meatballs. They done? PUT 'EM IN DA BREAD."

Killian leaned in the now broken doorway, puffing on a newly lit cigar. 

"I don't know about you fellash but I'm hungry ash hell. And who in the dickens was that broad!? And how did she get past me and me hammer?" 

Killian absentmindedly scratched his facial hair.

"She was like a ghost. Here and gone. Like a Bánánach."

He waived he thought off, instead choosing to think about food again.

"Let's raid boys!"

Gavin's antics with the safe had William nearly in tears. He'd been way too amused by the whole break-in and now it was bubbling over. He only managed to clean up about half of his own mess through the convulsing laughs shaking him, but it was good enough for now. He choked out a few words as he opened the stove and the room began to fill with the wonderful scent of cooked meatball and possibly, just a little overcooked sauce.

"IN DA BREAD!" The burn from the stove fresh on his mind, he grabbed a potholder and pulled the meatball tray from the stove. The nearest drawer produced a well worn wooden spoon perfect for the task at hand. William began spooning out heaping piles of meat and sauce onto the bread that Gavin had scavenged until each was a full, warm mess ready for consumption.

"Dinner bell! Shnacks time! We can break the safe later."

Gavin took a large bite of his sandwich, but a meatball fell out and rolled down his shirt and pants. He glared at the meatball on the floor.

"Fucker."

He counted sandwiches. William had one. Killian had one. Gavin had one. He took one sandwich, rolled it up in paper, and stuck it into one jacket pocket, doing the same with a second one. The last one he left on the counter. Taking out a marker and paper from the front desk, he left a note next to the sandwich on the counter.

"4 Maddaline"

Pleased with his thoughtfulness, he turned to his partners, who were both eating as well. Gavin spoke with his mouth full.

"Thish is delishish. When you're done, someone turn off da oven and someone else call for a ride. Imma eat now."

He dove back into his sandwich.

Killian picked up a sandiwch and started to devour it. Sauce covered much of his face and neck when he looked up to Gavin.

"I'll turn the blasted oven off, seein' as William cant help but ta burn himself." 

Killian put the half eaten mess of a sandwich down on the counter next to the one marked for Maddaline. He then leaned down to get a better look at the oven. 

"So many dials. I'm no eejit now, so usin' me smarts, I'm going to say that this one turns of the oven."

He turned a dial on the front of the oven which caused a hissing noise to occur at one of the stove burners. 

"AH! Yah see, its ventin' the heat now. Just like a steam engine."

Killian stepped back and put his hands on his hips, proud of his handiwork.

William powered through his sandwich like a man dying of starvation. The damn thing tasted like a little piece of heaven in spite of his heavy hand with the filling and he just knew "Maddaline" must be doing something to doctor the food trays. He had finished by the time his companions had hit the halfway mark and was so smeared with sauce that it looked like he'd shoved his face in the tub.

"I'mma have to come back more offen. Thish stuff is perfect!"

As he started wiping down his face and the sauce found its way to his hands and a kitchen cloth he realized something wasn't right. The oven was venting off heat just fine like Killian had said, but there was a weird smell. It seemed familiar but for some reason he couldn't quite place what it was.

"Do any of you smell sommin' weird?" William looked hard at each of them as though they might be the source of the sort of rotten egg smell on the air.

"I'mma go beat up the shafe. Maybe I can break inna it." At least he'd get away from that smell. On his way over to the safe, William slipped his hand into his pocket and retrieved a dented and scuffed set of brass knuckles to help with his new chore.

Madeline wasn't quite sure what made her go to the meatball sub shop she owned. She'd flown into Philly early that morning and had been on the go all day. She'd finished the evening with a few drinks but she hadn't eaten and all she could think of were the leftover Buffalo chicken meatballs she'd left hidden in the fridge earlier that day. Her mouth watered just at the thought.

From the front, the store seemed quiet enough. She was a bit tipsy, so it took some concentrated effort and a minute or two of trying before she got the door open. She was startled by the jingle of the bells that she'd placed to announce a customer but it didn't take her too long before she noticed the lights were on in the kitchen. Did they forget to turn them off before leaving? No, it was more than that, she heard people talking. Men, a few of them. 

The leggy blonde pulled her weapon and slowly made her way towards the back. She could smell gas, which was odd. Why would someone break into her store just to use the stove? Maybe it was one of the cooks, staying late to try out a new recipe? 

It was neither, apparently. 

Walking into the kitchen, Madeline's eyes first saw the mess of what she hoped to be tomato sauce that was splattered EVERYWHERE.  It seemed someone had tried to clean it up but all they'd done was make more of a mess. She saw Gavin sitting on the floor and another gentleman who was standing in front of the stove, looking fairly proud of himself. Unless his goal was to blow up her store, with them inside of it, she wasn't sure why. A third man seemed to be talking about going to find her safe.

"I'm not quite sure what's happening here, but if you touched my buffalo chicken meatballs I will shoot you all." 

Madeline waved Killian away from the stove as she approached it, not quite putting her gun away yet. She turned the dials all to their correct off positions. That was when she noticed the sandwich on the counter with the little note next to it "4 Maddaline".

She glared at Gavin for a moment but put her weapon down and unwrapped the sandwich. Ok, it wasn't Buffalo Chicken, but she was fucking starving so who cared. Sliding to the ground amid all the tomato sauce, much to the surprise of the gentleman, Madeline dug into her sub. After a few bites, she looked up.

"And someone is going to clean up this mess. Or I'll tell Tara." 

Gavin's eyes widened.

"Oh shit."

A minute later, he was mopping up the sauce. Killian was trying to improve Gavin's mobbing technique and was grabbing at the mop, but they eventually managed to clean up most of the mess. 

Gavin tried to suavely lean next to Madeline, but slipped- barely catching himself before he fell. Still, he was grinning.

"Hullo there... Maddaline. This is William. This is Killian. I know you know who I am."

He yawned.

"Because I'm kind of a big deal....shit, that was a good sandwich."

Then his eyes lit up.

"Maddaline! Do you wanna be our driver? We need a driver for the getaway car. Some guy told us so. You can drive us... away. Because we don't have Robber Coniglio."

He was still obviously very drunk, but he was hoping that was contributing to his charm and not detracting it.

"We'll give you the tourra the Pier. Some Northern charm, huh?"

While the other two were mopping, William panicked and grabbed a cloth to wipe up the counter top and cabinets. He hadn't met Madeline before and didn't want to upset a lady with a gun. He quickly realized he still had his brass knuckles on the other hand and slipped them off with a cheerful, if awkward smile.

"It'sh nice to meet you, mish." William removed any doubt that he was in just as bad of shape as Gavin, possibly even worse, by opening his mouth.

"We could use a driver!" William frowned and muttered under his breath, "Can't truss rabbitsh."

Finishing up the last of the sauce on the cabinets he put his cloth into the sink and tried to look sincere though the twinkle of amusement in his eye gave away that he was actually enjoying himself. "Sorry bout the back door."