Time marches on.

Always.

It is the only constant thing in most people’s life, and it is relentless. Unforgiving. Punishing.

Regimes fall and strength atrophies. Hero’s die and revolutionaries conform.

Sun rise, sun set.

Wax on, wax off.

But today was a sun rise sort of a day, wasn’t it? It was a real waxy affair all round when Belle- left the offices of The Ballroom. The famous Philadelphian weather was doing that typical sort of Philadelphian thing appropriate for this period. So typical in fact it is best not to detail right now. It would just be a waste of everybody’s time. And, as we have already established, time marches on. Much like @Belle- was doing down the sidewalk of South Philly Boulevard.

“We’ve got a busy day ahead of us today young Darrow m’lad.” Belle- had said. On occasion she affected an English accent which she claimed was the result of her many travels in her youth but, Darrow suspected, was an attempt to make Darrow feel more at home. The fact it always came out sounding slightly Jamaican did little to dissuade her. “So I sure hope you brought your business pants with you?”

Darrow had not. He hadn’t known there had been a clothing requirement for todays activities. He’d only brought his pants of Irredeemable Sorrow and it was already too late to go back and change. He needed to be honest with his boss. “Bell…Belle….Belle-“ Darrow always struggled articulating the hyphen but it was the most important part of her name and completely changed it’s pronunciation, so it needed to be mastered. “Belle-“ he said more confidently now, “I sure have!”. Honesty is overrated.

“Excellent news! Now we’ve got a big old job to do today.” She said, not slowing down. “I’ve got a meeting with Old Man Godfather down at his compound, the telegram was pretty vague, but apparently he has something big to discuss.”

“A meeting with OMG eh? Well that sounds great BelleHyphen.” Darrow froze.

Belle- had stopped stock still, her face contorted in a rage. “What the fuck did you just call me?”

“Errr, I said ‘Well that sounds great Belle-‘, oh great Don of South Philly” sycophancy was often Darrow’s most effective fallback.

Belle- thought to herself, well that must have been the case. It’s such an easy name to pronounce. Who couldn’t pronounce a hyphen in an unhyphenated name? Idiots that’s who.

“Alright then” she said. “So I’ll be at the meeting alone, but, just in case this goes sideways, which I’m sure it won’t, I’m going to need you to arrive a bit later on and just provide a bit of backup if needed. Can you handle that? Bring @JeanRalphio if you like? He’s always up for some malarky. The doormen will just need a bit of information from you before they’ll let you in, but they’re pretty dense so I’m sure you’ll do it no problem.”

“Ok I’m sure we can handle that with absolutely no issues.” Darrow stared off, eyes wide, stage left.

“What the fuck are you doing? You best not be ‘foreshadowing’ Darrow! You know I absolutely hate it when you do that.”

“Sorry boss.” Darrow said dejectedly. So dejectedly in fact that Belle- felt the need to bolster her Hand’s spirits.

“Hey, Darrow.” Belle- said, waiting until Darrow looked her in the eye. “Good boy!”

Spirits well and truly bolstered Darrow took his leave from Belle- and went to give Jean the skinny.

***

30 minutes later Belle- arrived at the compound. Why had she walked all the way? Probably because of that famous and appropriate for the period and time of the year Philadelphian weather we were having. It was just SO appropriate.

“Hold it” the doorman said, “state your business.”

Belle- flashed the telegram at the doorman.

“Any chance I could see that for longer than a split second?” The doorman said, not impolitely.

Belle- sighed and held up the telegram for the doorman to read.

“Thank you!” he motioned for the gates to open and Belle- strode up the driveway to the house.

Another doorman greeted her. “Tickets please.” The man said.

“What? I haven’t got a ticket… look, I’m a dreadfully important person and I’m going to be late for my meeting with OMG. Just let me in.” Belle- said exasperatedly.

“Oh right then,” the doorman exclaimed theatrically. “Oh right, well if you’re important then just come straight in. No need for me to check anything, just stroll straight in!”

Belle- sighed. “Will you accept this?” and she showed the telegram again.

“Yeah that’ll do. I’ve got to do my checks haven’t I?” he said. “On you go.”

Finally Belle- was in the house and stood face to face with OMG.

***

“So we’re just going as an insurance policy are we?” JeanRalphio was saying.

“Yeah mostly. Nothing will go wrong but as I’ve always said, ‘if you prepare to fail, fail’.” Darrow said proudly.

“There’s no way that’s the correct saying, isn’t it ‘if you fail to prepare, you prepare for failure’?”

“I think mine sounds better.”

“It definitely didn’t.”

Darrow was crestfallen.

“Hey Darrow, is that a bicycle over there?” Jean said apropos of nothing. He was truly fantastic at identifying bicycles.

“What? Er…yeah probably…. Well anyway, come on. Despite this lovely typically appropriate weather we’re having, let’s take the car up to the compound.”

They did.

***

Belle- and Old Man Godfather were now in the back garden enjoying the weather. A man brought out some coals and an array of fine looking meats.

“OMGWTFBBQ?!? I love that stuff!” Belle- screamed excitedly.

“Ha! I know. We did our research before bringing you here.” The old man said. “We have many things to discuss and I think people are always more compliable on a full stomach.”

Belle- nodded. She had used this tactic herself before now. It was how she had convinced Darrow to clean the HQ after their ill fated Mardi Gras party.

“Now, you’re probably wondering why I’ve called you here today.” OMG said, cryptically.

“The thought had crossed my mind.” Belle- responded, responsively.

“Well, you see, I’m getting a little bit too old for this racket now. The headaches this business gives me, honestly. It’s too much.” The old man looked off into the distance for a moment and then snapped back. “What I’m getting at is this. My men and I have scouted around and we think you’re the best placed to take my slot (semi colon, close parenthesis) in South Philly.”

“Oh wow. This is completely unexpected, but of course an honour like this is not something I can rejec…”

“And so,” the old man went on, “for the low, low, one time only price of $250,000,000, I will retire and give you my blessing as the new Godfather of South Philly.”

“I see.” Belle- said.

She drew her gun.

***

Darrow and Jean were talking with the doorman at the gate.

“So shouldn’t you really have been classified as a Gateman?” Darrow as saying pleasantly.

“Oh, I guess so… I’ve never really thought about it until now.” The man said ponderingly. He gazed off for a while and then suddenly snapped back into focus, fully expecting the two men stood at his gate to have dashed past him whilst his attention was diverted.

Darrow and Jean stood there waiting for him.

“Lovely.” The door(gate)man said. “To get past here we’re going to need to do a few tests to make sure you are who you say you are.”

“That’s fine by us.” Jean said confidently. “We’re very confident.” He added, in case the nuance of his countenance had been missed.

“Too confident if you ask me.” The door(gate)man said, as he reached into his bag and took out 6 pictures. He laid them on the ground in a grid format. “Before I let you in I’m going to need you to correctly identify all of the pictures that have a bicycle in them.”

“Holy shit!” Jean said excitedly, it was his time to shine!

Gun fire punctuated the perfectly appropriate time of day sky.

“What the fuck was that?” Darrow said worriedly. “We need to hurry the fuck up!”

***

Three bodyguards lay dead at Belle-‘s feet.

“We can talk about this…” OMG screamed from behind the garden furniture. “We can come to an agreement. I’m sure I could knock 15% off!”

“That’s still $187,500,000 you greedy old C.” Belle- was fantastic at maths. Percentages specifically. And so willing to help out if you ever have any questions about them. “What on earth do you need that much money for in your retirement you old bastard?”

“Bodyguard upkeep.” The Old Man snivelled.

Well that made sense. But still, Belle- wasn’t about to part with that much money to a man so old he shoved used tissue paper up his sleeves.

Belle- advanced on OMG.

***

“That was fantastic!” Darrow said excitedly as they walked up the path to the compounds ornate wooden door. “You really fucking identified all those bicycles.”

“Thank you, I’ve had an inordinate amount of practice over the years.” Jean said.

“Tickets please.” The appropriately titled doorman said.

“Errrr, we haven’t got any tickets, but our boss just went in there and said we were to come later on.”

The doorman thought for a moment. “Look, it’s more than my jobs worth to just let you in. How about you just repeat a password after me?”

“That sounds fair.” Darrow and Jean said at exactly the same time.

“Ok, here it is. C2p^L .”

“Oh holy shit. How the fuck do you pronounce a P with a strike through it?” Darrow said frustratedly.

“It’s the high L I’m struggling with.” Jean said.

“Fuck.”

***

“This is your last chance Old Man.” Belle- said, looming over the prone figure of the once proud Godfather of South Philly. “Leave, run away, never come back.”

“Fuck Yo---” the words died in OMG’s throat, his body convulsed as a torrent of bullets tore through his old glassy flesh,

“Fuck. You.” Belle- said, wiped the blood from her hands and left.

***

As she walked out of the front door she found Darrow and Jean speaking in, what sounded to Belle-, like tongues.

“C-Two-P-L” Darrow shrieked exasperatedly.

“I’m sorry that’s incorrect, and now I have to change the password.” The doorman said gleefully. “It’s now 58_lⁱ.”

Darrow and Jean groaned.

Belle- shot the doorman in the side of the head. He slumped.

The spell was broken. Darrow and Jean snapped back in to focus.

“Let’s get out of here.” Belle- said, “I’ve got news.”

***

Belle-, Darrow and Jean all sat in front of the fireplace back at The Ballroom HQ.

“So we should have a party right?” Darrow said excitedly. “I mean, this is huge fucking news? Belle- Godfa(mo)ther of South Philly”

“Oh we’re definitely having a party!” Jean said, “I’ve had this planned for ages just in case!”

“Yeah sure, but I’m really tired. So maybe just a small one…”

“Mardi gras mother fuckaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaas” Darrow screamed.

And by "ages", he meant weeks.  He was, after all, twice homeless in the past two weeks. Still, finished with the frantic scrambling of several caterers, craftsmen and artisans at the top of their creative, cocaine and amphetamine-fueled game, he was ready to see the fruits of his efforts.  JeanRalphio sprung to life and jetted out of his chair as he had been given his cue, unveiling a large Entertainment 720 sign that had been camouflaged on top of the fireplace.

"You have a little bit of time. Take a little nap, maybe wash up to get the smell of charcuterie off of your clothes.  Because you're about to experience a universe-altering event."

He sprinted across the ballroom HQ where he opened the door to a man waiting. A 4, at best.

"Password please"

"ƒá†šø¾", the man replied.

"I'm sorry, that's the wrong password." Jean replied.  "Try again."

"ƒá†šõ¾"

"Sorry my man, That's incorrect.  We're going to have to set you up with a new password if you can't remember it."

"ƒá†šõ¾"

"I'm sorry, you can't use a previous password that was already used."

"Man, fuck this shit" the man replied, as he threw his notebook to the floor.

"Access granted!  I knew you'd remember it. Bring in the rest."

The man sighed and was caught off guard by being unexpectedly thrown against the wall by Jean.

"Hey! Shape up. This is fucking art, man.  This is a life-changing event. A medium in which the most prolific event planners in the history of this world can speak through and reverberate for generations. Babies are going to be made at my parties.  The gyrating asses of the great unwashed who thirst for a purpose or a cause in this lonely, lonely world. And tonight, that purpose is to celebrate that Belle- just became the Godmother of our little corner of Philadelphia.  Do you understand, 4?"

The man meekly nodded.

"Good." JeanRalphio curtly replied, unpinning the man from the wall and fixing his ruffled collar.

"Now get to work."

JeanRalphio stepped aside as multiple vans and trucks pulled up to the Ballroom's main HQ, setting up what was to become the crown jewel of Jean's party planning.  As the hours went by, in marched a variety of food, beverage and scenery; cases upon cases of Pol Roger steadily filled The Ballroom as they entered ice baths, filled in custom, gold-plated buckets that had "The Ballroom" engraved upon them.  24 karat gold-plated chocolate coins were placed in a jewel-adorned chest, placed next to a fountain of vanilla custard.

A two and a half meter wide, to-scale ice sculpture recreating the Last Supper entered the property, with Jesus replaced with Belle-, and the apostles all replaced with the Philadelphia strata, all intentionally made slightly shorter and rounder than reality, but minor enough that any complaints would be perceived through the prism of pettiness.

Crisp, $500 and $100 bills were wrapped into origami that were placed delicately on top of dinner napkins. Bills that were non-cooperative or soiled by the origami specialist were shredded and turned into confetti, or as JeanRalphio liked to call it, "fundfetti".  As the dining tables were eventually set up, intricately detailed recreations of historical art pieces began filtering through; in came the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, carefully crafted with strips of leek, chives, scallions and minute slices of peppers -- the Creation of Adam constructed with a panoply of artichoke hearts, sun dried tomatoes, chiffonade basil, buffalo mozzarella, honeyed dates, rose confit and prosciutto; carved, life-size versions of koi fish made from solid blocks of cheddar that emerged from a crystal-glass pond of pepper jelly, and tableaux of forestry scenes that were carved onto the sides of multiple lamb roasts that Jean Ralphio specified to be "reminiscent of Gauguin's better efforts".

Finally, in entered a group of four burly men, delicately carrying a recreation of the Colosseum on a large wooden platter that was lined with pounds of shrimp, crab legs, sashimi, mussels and roe, with a centerpiece of bluefin tuna doing battle with a King Crab, facing each other through a minefield set with traps consisting of caviar, fresh oysters and baby octopi.  

JeanRalphio headed upstairs and gave a brief tap on the door.

"5 MINUTES.  PARTY TIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIME"

Moving back down to the ground floor and stepping outside to verify that the human petting zoo was established at the the corner of the property, he nodded his head at the door greeter.

"Yo, homeslice, get my man over here to load you up on some of that fundfetti.  For every guest that comes in I want at least a good handful to welcome them properly."

The man nodded.

As Jean Ralphio made his way to walk back in, he stopped, pulling out his wallet to retrieve a one hundred dollar bill that he stuffed in the man's suit pocket.

"You didn't think I'd forget about you, did you? The big dog remembers."

JeanRalphio took a fresh breath of air as he began seeing guests and their vehicles filter in.

"It's time."

Not many things can make Kaya get out of bed these days -- in her old age, she much rather preferred staying in the comfort of her own HQ, watching over the shenanigans her members got up to, over the lavish parties that she once so adored. However, today was an exception, not only because there was talk of sashimi, but also because the person who the party was for deserved to be celebrated in all her glory. Her bones creaked as she put on her earrings and a sparkly dress, hearing that this was going to be one hell of a lavish party and wanting to keep up with the glitz and glamour.

Pulling up to the vast compound, Kaya was pleased to see she was one of the early birds. Perfect, she thought, this way no one will notice her stuffing her face with all the decadent seafood available. Before she did that though, Kaya found Belle in the crowd and decided to give her congratulations personally.

"Dear Belle, amidst all the adversity Philadelphia has faced the past few days, your ascension to Godmother is a most pleasant silver lining and one that I'm extremely happy to see. You've been nothing but a sweetheart ever since I met you, and you've been instrumental to the growth of Philly since you took auth and even before that. I'm honored to be working alongside such a lovely and strong woman and know we still have a lot of adventures and misadventures to go on together for years to come."

"Congratulations, Godmother Belle-! I can't wait to see you mould South Philly in your image."

What a day it had been. Belle and her trusty hands had returned from an exciting OMGWTFBBQ at OMG’s compound. Let’s be honest, Belle’s hands were a little slow to react, causing the woman to panic for a split-second during the takedown. She overcame her anxiety just in time to shoot OMG dead and take over the position of Godfa(mo)ther, a term Barrow Darrow-au-Andromedus had so eloquently coined. 

What took you both so long? I was starting to think you weren’t coming…

“Well we had to solve some puzzles and look and identify bicycles”

It was always about the bicycles. JeanRalphio was especially keen on them. It was his calling. As if he’d been preparing for this moment his whole career. Meanwhile, Belle was starting to wish he had recruited Barrow, ‘The greatest giant the world has ever seen’, but instead she chose the former ‘greatest giant’ Darrow. He was fresh out of a job and looking for a change so she thought giving him a chance was only fair considering his great leaning skills. It was an unfortunate casualty that the poor Door(gate)man was shot in the head during the attack. She thought about extending an employment offer to him for his excellent Door(gate) manning skills. He also hadn’t brought up her hilarious fake accents or lisp as a child while trying to pronounce the unnecessary hyphen at the end of her name. Her parents thought it was quite charming to add some confusion to her name. So what if her fake accent sounded like misheard Temperature lyrics? 

Can you believe OMG wanted THAT much money? The greedy SOB. I’m so glad it’s finally over. He would never be able to pull off a party like this. It’s exquisite, Jean. You have outdone yourself this time. Origami? I love Origami!  She shouted almost too excitedly. 

Belle loved a good rose confit. She was also a very big supporter of the seafood colosseum. She couldn’t help to notice the lack of andouille sausage. Everyone knows the best pairing with king crab is a good andouille sausage! Never mind that. The opulence in the details was a sight for the ages. She could not believe this was all for her. Darrow and Jean had outdone themselves and she was forever thankful to have them by her side.

The woman noticed Godfa(mo)ther Kaya enjoying the seafood colosseum. She thought about asking her what she thought of sausage and crab as a pairing. However, she decided to welcome her and take a moment to chat. She had looked up to Kaya for a long time and was excited to work closer with her. The new Godfa(mo)ther approached two of her members, NicholasGrimwood and his beautiful companion, Valentina. She thanked them for making the drive and celebrating the new adventure with her. She was thankful to have such hard working members supporting her ascension.

She approached the open space toward the front of the room and tapped a cocktail fork to her champagne glass to grab the attention of her guests.

Thank you to everyone who made it here to celebrate. I want to extend my sincerest thank you to GFC Asher for affording me this opportunity and encouraging me to expand operations into South Philly. You have encouraged me from the moment I stepped foot into Selfridges.

Darrow over there, I see you. I mean, it’s not hard to miss a medical giant from this crowd. Thank you for coming along on this journey with me. As a great JimmyDrake says ‘Started from the bottom now we here.’ And by bottom, he meant trivia. JimmyDrake really needs to get back in his wheelchair, but that’s a different story for a different place.

JeanRalphio, a huge thank you to you for also being by my side. I know you’ve been through it all these last few weeks.  But like a phoenix rising through the ashes, you’re here. I’m happy to finally work side by side with you. Also, you have organized one badass party that no one can top, even if they tried. Look at all this fundfetti. We’re going to have to hire someone with limber fingers to tape this money back together. Taxes don’t pay themselves.

She went on to talk about a couple other influential people along the way, Original21 and Tony_Alacchi, who were instrumental and supportive in her journey to defeat OMG. Enjoy the party everyone, we have enough food and drink to feed an army. After what felt like hours, it was only minutes, she walked toward the back of the room to continue the week-long festivities. 

Shoresy had been busy rippin' reps in the Irish shower while washing the blood sweat off of him from another flawless victory.  He wasn't quite sure how it took him 2 days to do it, but shit just seems to drag in the north.  He'd heard a respected bloodline had recently taken on the OMG and things had gotten hardcore.  He fuckin' dug it and thought that he better towel off and come and pay his respects.  He knew Jeanralphio was there and it had certainly been awhile since he'd given him a balltap backslap.  

"Belle- - congratulations on this fuckin' spectacular news.  Ya left some kind words behind at the funeral of my grandad or someone - and I have not forgotten.  I forget how many generations ago it was now, but it don't really matter.  I know Wayne will be glad to bring you some peppers from the Letterkenny produce stand, if you're ever needing some fresh produce.  Really, that and stealing your cold Puppers is really all he is good for.  Take the peppers - just my advice."