No, not this time.

Aldo pocketed his cigar before even lighting it. Here he was again, outside of Monticelli's butcher shop. But this time, he was wearing a good suit, he had a .45 instead of a bat, and he was as bitter as Siberia. He stepped out of his cherry red Mercedes SSK convertible and into the shop. Monty looked up with a breif grimace of fear, but then a welcome grin of happiness. Aldo approached him.

Monty, these hoods... Those punks that were in your racket, do you know who they are?

Yeah, some punks, they live in a tenement down the block.

Thanks, I didn't need to get my suit dirty here.

Aldo walked out and looked down the street to a ten story tenement complex. He got into his car and coasted the next half mile until he reached it. He was sick, seeing this grotesque sign of city life. Then he was grateful for his pleasant, cozy apartment. Plus that 5th Ave. Penthouse incase things go south in Chicago. He gets out of his car and goes into the lobby. He approaches the desk...

Hello, miss. May you please tell me what floor the Gator gang is located on?

that would be the top floor, sir.

Thank you, ma'am.

Aldo hands her $5 and walks towards the stairs.......

After reaching the tenth, he looks into the hall to see one guard, right next to the stairs. he quickly pulled his .45 and dragged him into the stairway.

What the f...

Aldo smacked him in the head twice with his pistol.

Where's your boss, then you can live.

I don't...

Another smack...

He's at the far end of the hall, room 1013.

Another smack, then Aldo threw his unconscious body over the stair's railing.

Okay, room 1013.

Aldo knocked on the door. And the leader replied...

We don't need any more members, fuck off!

No, my friend, you're mistaken. I'm from the Syndicate. We'd like to talk to you. About business.

What kind of business, fucker?

Tsk tsk, today's youth...

Good business. Now let me in...

When the door opened, all hell broke loose. Three men with sawn off, double barreled shotguns aimed their weapons at the door to see a bloody man, in a vintage suit and a fedora. Aldo dropped his pistol, and they lowered their weapons... Aldo thought, 'calm before the storm'...

When their weapons lowered, he dropped his pants and pulled out a pump action 8 shot 12 gauge hunting shotgun. In five seconds, the only people left in that room alive, was Aldo, and the Gator's king. Aldo picked up his pants and his pistol, and approached him...

Do you know why this is happening?

The youth shook his head.

Because you fucked with the wrong nannies.

Aldo pulled his trigger, and saw the man's head recoil back, and his lifeless body sprawled onto the sofa.

He left that apartment complex, hoping never to return. He went to his vehicle, covered in blood, and looking nobody in the eye. He silently went home, and took a sweet, hot shower.