After his first hit Ronnie waited around, did the usual, murder wasn’t new to him. But murder for hire was. He was now a member of the mob, here in Vegas. His contact on the inside just so happened to be the head of the family called Paradise Petrolheads inc. Clarkson was a fair leader, a bit of a prick. But fair. Whilst laying low Ronnie went to a meet with him to formally find his place in the family. Ronnie just had to do what he was told. Rob this. Kill him. Bomb this. Ronnie had to earn his name. His place. His button. And he was dedicated. He wanted it. Wanted the name and the power that accompanied respect. He wanted it all. By Any Means. 

Weeks went by without a word from clarkson. But Ronnie knew there had been trouble with some thugs hijacking a shipment, the word twat was used a lot. Then it rang. The phone buzzed throughout the house. Ronnie was clambering over another half naked woman and scrambling to the phone, composing himself he picks it up. “Ronnie here how can I help?” He says. Hearing heavy breaths on the other. “Those parts...we’ve erm. Well I. Found them. 186 Burgess Fields. Get them. Polish the cap of the engine.” Clarkson said on the other line before hanging up. Ronnie knee not to waste time so he got his friend Reggie and got ready.

Ronnie and Reggie Pull up around the corner from the address, they both hop out and walk to the trunk, Ronnie pops it and turns to his partner. “Ya know, this murder for hire shit is kinda fun, I mean just think about it, We go in like the pair of badasses that we are, murder everyone, AND get paid! I mean who the fuck thought this shit up deserves a Nobel prize.” He says chuckling and bending into the trunk, putting gloves and a mask on each the pair start looking at the contents, Ron lights a freshly rolled joint and takes afew puffs handing it to Reggie. 

“Hey Ron. Ron mate. There’s enough weaponry in here to start a fucking small army. Like what the fuck?” Reggie says grinning as he picks up a shotgun and pistols. Ronnie laughs grabbing himself a pair of Thompson sub machine guns, slinging one over his back and the other on the floor, he then grabs his pair of .45 semi-automatic pistols. “We are a fucking army. The two of us. The two baddest motherfuckers to ever grace this thing of ours.” Ronnie says as his partner passes the joint back. He takes some clips of ammo. Stuffing them where he can. And as Reggie turns he quickly grabs a hand grenade, Reggie hated these things. But Ronnie loves them. 

Ronnie takes afew more drags from the joint as he checks all the guns, making sure they are full and not jammed, he places the joint in the back windscreen wiper and picks his Thompson up. “Right, I’ll go around the back. These guys ain’t killers, they just rob people. Sadly they robbed the wrong men this time. You wait here, they’ll probably try run. Just use that shotgun and make a painting. And remember Reggie. Fuck em.” Ronnie says as he disappears down the alleyway. Slowly approaching the backdoor, it’s the middle of the night, so Ronnie is concealed, he reaches for the handle as the door opens. 

It catches him off guard but Ronnie wastes no opportunity, he clenches his fist and swings with the door, his knuckle connects with the face behind it and the man stumbles back knocking a chair down with them Ronnie stands over them gun in face finger on his lip, whispering “Quiet, and I’ll let you live.” The man underneath him nods, not saying a word. Ronnie picks him up and walks him into the next room putting the gun to his back. 

As they enter the next room they're spotted, afew scramble but most stay, putting their hands in the air. Ronnie smirks as he kicks the man towards the people, “Now boys. My bosses shit went missing. We can’t be having some Virgin fucks like you boys making us look bad can we? Now I’ll be honest with you. I’ve been sent to kill you all, but if you quickly tell me where I can find our shit I’ll let you live.” He says “BLACK CAR OUTSIDE. THE TRUNK!” One says almost immediately. Ronnie laughs as he hears the shotgun from Reggie ring out, he don’t hesitate and pulls the trigger of his Thompson. 

The recoil would usually send the bullets everywhere. But Ronnie was used to it. After all he was almost god-like. Every bullet hits, sending blood, brains and bones all over. Bodies drop all over. Ron puts more bullets in the now pile of bodies and he steps over them, he takes the grenade out and unpins it. Throwing it on the pile and grabbing a set of car keys from the door, he runs out the door shouting and giggling “TAKE THE CAR CUNT! ITS GON...” *Boom* Ronnie gets sent off the doorstep and slams into the side of the car.

he brushes it off as he sees his partner shaking his head and running to the car they came in. Ronnie climbs in the black car. And they disappeared like Ronnie does to mothers. 

Anton strides over to the dark car and shouts..

"WHICH ONE OF YOU IS RONNIE?  AND WHICH ONE OF YOU IS REGGIE?  AND WHY ARE YOU CALLED TYPICAL ENGLISH NAMES WHEN THIS IS A PREDOMINANTLY ITALIAN SOCIETY?"

Ronnie sits in the car. Alone. As a crazed man comes screaming at him he panics hits the gas and drives off. Who was this man? Why was he so mean? Did Ronnie forget something again? Maybe we will never know. But we do know one thing. 

Ronnie is the best looking motherfucker to ever grace this world.