Two Years Ago

"Casanova, you're not even that good looking."

Idiots. Spineless, stupid, WRONG idiots. They didn't understand what they had done with their wrong opinions, but it would create what would be called one of the finest pieces of art work in modern American history. Since that day, every dollar that wasn't given to the casinos or drug peddlers would be spent on obtaining the finest marble and gold that could be bought on the market. His chiseled face would now be chiseled and put on display for all to see and admire.

Now

Finally finished.

Beautiful.

Wonderful.

Perfection.

Casanova cleared off a small space in one of the center places of Detroit and putting a rope around it for protection he opened the piece to the public to gawk at and admire. It was a bust of his face, as he couldn't yet afford the full sculpture... but it would come, in due time. As he grew in wealth and power, so too would his piece de resistance.

"Come one, come all. Look at me and weep."

The gold trimmings around his wondrous cheek bones and perfectly formed marble chin were just some of the highlights of this fantastical sight and he was more than sure that everyone, from far and wide, would come and gaze upon him. He dubbed the area around the bust Casanova Square and begun selling various pictures of himself to the general audience.

A Picture With Casanova's Head - $5

A Conversation with Casanova - $15

A Picture With Casanova Himself - $1000

 And so it begun.

She was taking a walk, one could only take so much partying.  Being in Vim's crew was amazing, but she couldn't remember the last time she was sober.  Stumbling slightly, she notices a familiar face and stops.  She remembered Casanova from the coffee shop, he was a guy you didn't forget.  He was apparently selling something, a picture with him?  No, no, that would just not do.  For $1000, she wanted more than that. 

She walked over to his strange little roped off area.  Without hesitating, she steps over the rope and gets uncomfortably close to him.  Throws a few large bills at him, grabs him by his shirt, and kisses him.  He looked slightly shocked, she couldn't tell if it was her lack of boundaries or that she probably smelled like a brewery.  Letting go of him, she stepped back over the rope, walking away with a smile.

Staring for what seemed to be an eternity, Sisyphus took note of the sculpture of the now deceased man and decided that now was the time to take action. This bust would be worth millions on the open market once news got out that Casanova was no longer among the living and what was a better place for it than on top of some wealthy woman's mantle? Which is precisely why Sisyphus took the job in the first place; one of his first in the new world. There seemed to be almost no defenses whatsoever protecting the slab of marble outside of a bit of rope that taped off the entire area, so his first course of action would be to get over it.

"Don't mind me..."

Not having the cover of night to guide him as it was still pretty early on in the afternoon, the man could only hope that no one would notice as he deftly maneuvered his way underneath the tensile rope and to the perfect bust of the man who would go down in history as one of the most beautiful of all time.

Grabbing it with both hands he needed a place to hide it.

"This won't be weird, will it?", he spoke softly to himself in an attempt to not garner any unwanted attention while shoving the entire head down into his pants. It was a bit bulky, but fit. With the product in hand, Sisyphus rushed outside of the area, only slightly tripping on his way towards the exit. Success.

Selling: Casanova's Head

Price: $1... no, $3,000,000

Location: Sisyphean in New York

The drop was set. Now he just needed someone to arrive and be willing to buy. It shouldn't be too hard, he thought to himself. There would be plenty of willing participants who would barter for such a thing; for a moment he even thought about holding an auction in the streets themselves, but that may be a bit too much heat given the rarity and sought-afterness of the item in question. No, this would have to be good enough. It would be good enough. Now it was all just a waiting game.