The sun seeped through the blinds just so to stir Aloisus from her slumber. She laid there a few moments before opening her eyes, not wanting to leave the warm comfort the heavy blankets and luxurious sheets. Her eyes fluttered open as her body woke up. She sat up in bed and stretched her arms and taking in the hotel room she had slept in. The plane had been delayed yesterday when she landed in Seattle. She hadn't had the chance to check into the hotel before she took care of the business she had been in town for. 

When she got into the hotel late last night she hadn't really had the chance to appreciate the gorgeous sweet. These were the perks of doing business directly for your Godfather. Aloisus stepped from the bed and into on suite bathroom. A white plush robe was folded on the counter and she wrapped herself up in it. Moments later she was on the phone with room service ordering some breakfast. A few minutes later there was a knock on her door. That was quick, she thought. 

Hello Aloisus said to the man who stood on the other side of the door frame. She noted that he did not have a cart or any food. Maybe they needed her to clarify her order. Is this about the turkey bacon?

It was not about the turkey bacon. It was a telegram, urgent. From Space-pole. Manhattan was under attack. Aloisus quickly put some clothes on, gathered her things and adorned herself in the new jacket @Sisyphus had recently gave her. She caught a cab to the airport and took one flight home to New York City. She had the cabby in New York take her to Brooklyn. These were the specific instructions. Once she arrived at the Godfather Chairman's office more instructions would be provided. 

After getting the run down about this Stanford guy, popping up out of nowhere and ruining everyone's Seattle trips, Aloisus bumped into @ElenaMichaels. Surprisingly enough she wasn't with her power couple partner @Ronin. Good, they could talk freely and not have him butt into everything they brought up. Plus he smelled bad most of the time.

Elena! Aloisus waved to her comrade in crime. So glad to see you alive. I honestly feared the worst when I first got the telegram.

The two women exchanged a healthy embrace. If Ronin were here he may have gotten jealous. After pleasantries and talking about the most recent threat, the two women parted ways. Between firing bullets and dodging bullets, Aloisus caught up with others from New York and got the details on Stanford. Back story and current events she could share with others. She took to the streets. 

Yesterday no one had heard of Stanford, but today he took Godfather in Manhattan, NY. 

Yeah, he fucking challenged Manhattan's true and established Godfather, @Space-pole, to Manhattan. A reverse war. Instead of killing Godfather Space-pole and then taking his district in New York City he just moved right in. While we were all too busy petty crimes, prostitution rings, organised crimes, beers in the business districts, plotting papers or simply grabbing a cup of coffee at a local shop. 

Slid right in with his own family, if you could even call them that. They were all goons, but where they lacked in shaky loyalty they made up in common aggression and greed. Stanford wanted more. He always had and it was one of his secret to how he got to the top so quick. So, of course, each member that followed him. Might I add, each insanely well protected member. Each one that followed him wanted just as more. Even more after that. Which would always keep them under Standford. Too dumb to function without him, honestly. 

Standford's right and left hands were a different story. Eduardo, the right and Banco, the left, were ride or die. They were Standford's ultimate bodyguards, confidantes, managers, and friends. Eduardo and Banco would go down with the ship.  Each with their own unique skills to bring to the table. They represented the perfect balance of right and left hand to Standford. Their pyramid scheme of upper structure was another huge thing that got them to the top. 

The third and final way Standford shot to the top was my absolute cosmic chance. A time and a place. A job and a mistake. 

Aloisus smiled to the gathering crowd.

Story time!

"What do you mean you lost the painting???" 

Standford held his breath in terror. His eyes wide with angry concern, his jaw clenched. He waited for the reply. 

"I...uh...I just don't got it." Lucky Jimmy replied.

There were precisely a million and eighteen things Standford wanted to shout at Lucky Jimmy about. Most importantly...

"What the FUCK do you mean you just don't have it?"

Standford had been coming up the ranks of his "crew" quickly. His boss liked him because, well, he liked to do work. He had always the crew lightly when referring to the guys he had been working with. They were very loosely ran by a guy that went by "The Golfer" and there were only about eleven of them on a good day and eight of them on an even better day.

He had just received a promotion to what they called Made Man. Which meant he was invited to the organized crimes. Trusted enough to not be a complete fuck up. The crimes were longer, required actual team work and paid out well. Standford would get a raise. 

Before it was official, The Golfer wanted to do a test run. He called it a right of passage, but the here and now, Standford wanted to call it a death wish. If he didn't show up by tomorrow morning with all five paintings that his boss wanted he wouldn't be getting that promotion. It was hard was hard out there for a pimp and he wanted a different taste of life. 

Standford had organized every little thing. Down to each and every minor deal. Everything had gone right despite what he had to work with. The guys he had to work with were not from the crew he ran with. His boss set him up with five guys, strangers. The Golfer thought it would be fun. With one that didn't even speak English, only Swedish. He had introduced himself as "Me is Hugo." Three times before not speaking anything else. At first Standford had thought his silence meant he was deadly. No. The lack of words that came from Hugo just made him dead weight. 

The next guy was a child. Lucky Jimmy, said his mom named him that. Also mentioned that he ate his twin in the womb. Standford and company were a little disturbed by that fact, but that kid kept up. Next two guys went by @Eduardo and @Banco. They had just arrived in town from down south. In the truck ride  Eduardo admitted he was wanted in New Orleans and had picked up Banco St. Louise after a somewhat successful bank robbery. After the truck ride, Standford new he'd introduce both of them to his boss. They then went on to kill some people and take some paintings. 

The paintings were placed suppose to have been placed into that same truck and Little Jimmy was tossed the keys. He had proven to be the best driver earlier in the night when he pulled up with some hot hot car. They split up and met latter at a secret location. But when the back of the truck Little Jimmy had been driving was opened and the paintings weren't there. Questions. Lots of questions. Standford could smell the bullshit. The glances he shared with Eduardo and Banco let him know they could too. He asked the kid again.

"Jimmy, where are the paintings?"

After a few seconds past, Standford shoved his fist into the kids gut. Once, twice and a third. He needed those paintings. When he reeled into a fourth Jimmy stuttered out.

"Okay, I'll tell ya. I'll tell ya. But do kill me. My mamma will woop my ass."

Five hours later Standford stood in his previous bosses office. It was his now. Jimmy had led Standford and the rest of the team back to The Golfer's "headquarters." It was the upstairs of a medium two story brick building between a mortuary and a laundry mat. The headquarters included The Golfer's office. He also had some property done on 1st Ave. A club and sometimes business was handled in the back alley. 

Standford put two bullets into The Golfers skull moments after Eduardo and Banco took out Standford's previous crews best. Jimmy had admitted to them on the way over that The Golfer had set Standford up. After the bloodbath in the medium sized brick building took place. Standford had Eduardo and Banco pull Little Jimmy out of the back seat. After Jimmy told them where the paintings were, Standford shot the kid in the face. 

Hugo, who had been in the back seat of the car they had stolen, exited the vehicle and looked over Lucky Jimmy's body.

"Would you like for me to cut off his balls?"

Happily ever after. Standford took over the crew, established a better one. Hustled. Hustled. Hustled his way to the top. The rest is history. 

Except it wasn't. It wasn't history. It was present. Aloisus stood on a soap box as she presented all of this to the crowd. As Standford and company destroyed what Manhattan had built. 

See, those of us in the prominent cities of the prominent districts do shit right and tight. We are much more structured and established than a lot of other criminals. Simply, we are the elite organized crime families. Chicago, Detroit, Las Vegas, Los Angeles, New York, Philly and Seattle. We live in our elite bubble and only acknowledge lesser crews and gangs when they come and bother us. Which, in most cases, isn't this loud.

Once Standford had set up shop on the other side of the park. The far other side. The part people don't like to go to. Like, basically Bronx. Once he was here he wanted us to know. All of us. Standford announced himself with a marching band loud enough folks on the beach in Los Angeles could hear him. Literally from coast to coast. 

And let me tell you about that marching band. It was real, but the only thing it has to do with this is cops. Some 1st of December celebration a few blocks over and it had called upon a lot of the police force. With the guys in blue busy, Standford paid a visit to @Godfather Space-pole. To how he knew where Manhattan's Godfather was, well, just another thing about how big his influence and reach were. With the cops busy, Standford burst into Space-pole's headquarters like he already owned the place. 

Aloisus paused from her recap. She watched as the audience faces turned from listening to shock.

I know! Shocking. You may not even think it's real, but this is what happened. Standford stormed Space-pole's headquarters. When Manhattan's Godfather's bodyguards stopped the intruder and patted him down for weapons they didn't find any. They still didn't let him into Space-pole's office. Fine, he told them. 

"If the coward doesn't want to face me then pass along this message. You tell your boss Manhattan is mine."

That's what he said to Space-pole's bodyguards. Taunting them by slandering their boss. Testing their loyalty. The guards showed resistance and pushed Standford out the door. This were organized quickly and the shooting quickly started.