Iron Mike is hopeful that Jaws had thrown the would be pick pocket a beating the Mug City way, but given the lack of public bragging he is doubtful. 

"Alwayth follow the Number 1 Detroit rule friendth Jaws - Detroith is a mug madatory city. Alwayth mug. If you are struggling to catch people you are more than welcome to come & train at Iron Mikes Muscle Maker down in Corktown. We will have you beating those pethky pick pockets black & blue in no time"

Iron Mike had made a tactical retreat from Thummerlin following an unfortunate incident with a misfiring gun, a friendthly bodyguard & a slightly punch drunk Mike. Despite this financial & reputational set back Iron Mike was keen to give the unfortunate residents of Thummerlin a chance to register a score in the Detroit Bingo competition. He swaggered up to some bozo in Chicago, (Made doubly sure not to shoot the guy or his entourage) & lifted his wallet.

You PICKPOCKETED! TastelessGentleman. You took $15,000.

Again the guy didn't even attempt to defend himself. Mike was sure his 200lbs of pure agression wasn't particularly stealthy, he had rolled the guy in broad daylight.

'Hobbs should enroll his guys for classes down at Iron Mikes Muscle Maker, we could make some progreth with them I am thure' muses Mike.

"Can anyone top BBB's triumph"

BBB caught up to you and beat you down. They took $89,787 back. They also stole your gun.

"Well done, BBB! That lump of cash should help in furthering your investigation of the human rights violations taking place in Summerlin. As for me, I got my first tally in the points column this morning as I was walking through the south side of Chicago looking for a nice place to sit down and eat my egg salad sandwich. Out of nowhere, Henson ran up and tried to snatch the sandwich out of my pocket..."

I was very hungry, so my reflexes were quick. I slapped his hand away and pulled the sandwich closer to my body for protection.

"Why that such and such! Let's just see what he has in his pockets..."

"Nothing, as expected. FrizzleFry does not pay these guys enough for them to keep cash in their pockets. He's probably starving."

Anyhow, I took pity on Henson and gave him half of my sandwich. We started joking about the suckers in Summerlin who were always good bait for a shakedown. Not a minute later, one of them walked by with his pockets bulging, and not because he just got done listening to Iron Mike's Hithtory lesson of mafia sex cults.

"Hey Henson, think of all the egg salad sandwiches we could get with that loot!"

Skidmark and Henson took the money and left town, free from any repercussions. The best egg salad sandwiches could be found in Detroit, not Chicago, and certainly not in Summerlin, where they serve only moldy grilled cheese sandwiches...

"MikeTyson, I am rubber and you are glue. It bounces off me and sticks to you. you're a thug in the body of a Consigliere. You pick on those below you who are too frightened of your poor eyesight to risk retaliation.  Let's be real Mike. You stand out like a sore thumb. You're the shortest man I've ever had the pleasure of meeting, and a pool of saliva follows you everywhere you'd go. I'm surprised nobody's caught you with the snail trail you leave behind.

Should you wish to test your luck I'm in Philadelphia on the front lines, beating back the evil scourge who attempt to take your friend Southsider's beloved district. I'm not sure I've seen you here, which is odd as shooting these guys won't set you back $2 million a bodyguard either...."

Hobbs sighed at poor old illiterate Mike.

"You can ask your close friend Grin-22 what happens if you try pick my pockets.

I even caught him trying to flee across district lines, but there's no hiding from old Hoobs. The worst thing is with the cleaning operation in full swing, I'm not even sure where he'll wash his bloody and broken face anymore. That's the best five dollars I've ever earned."

Since my beatdown at the hands of MikeTyson yesterday (and equally, my shelling out of a beatdown on him), I took a step back to review my process. One of the most important qualities in a good mafia athlete is the ability to analyze your own game. Where did I go wrong? I tell my JFMAST boys: today you'll be better than you were yesterday but not as good as you'll be tomorrow. And today, I'm feeling electric, I'm as wily as a jumping bean, as elusive as a bluefin tuna, as wide as a doorway in Texas. 

Jun 06, 15:25:33    You tried to PICKPOCKET! FrenchieHorn.
Jun 06, 14:23:54    You PICKPOCKETED! Void. You took $3,341.
Jun 06, 11:38:24    You PICKPOCKETED! Void. You took $5,066.
Jun 06, 10:02:43    You PICKPOCKETED! Void. You took $11,500.
Jun 06, 07:45:42    You PICKPOCKETED! Jack_Diamond. You took $15,000.
Jun 06, 06:45:04    You PICKPOCKETED! Bear. You took $15,000.
Jun 06, 06:39:40    You PICKPOCKETED! Henson, but walked away with nothing.
Jun 05, 22:05:18    You tried to PICKPOCKET! Daiquiri.
Jun 05, 21:05:11    You PICKPOCKETED! Jack_Diamond. You took $15,000.
Jun 05, 19:36:22    You PICKPOCKETED! Tom-Hagen. You took $15,000.
Jun 05, 18:23:09    You tried to PICKPOCKET! Quetzalcoatl.

It'll take a miracle to mug me today. I'm on a hot streak. 

Today I come to you to express a large number of points that I have obtained. 

First thing this morning a young fella swam towards me and he had a unique smell that was a bit fishy. I wondered what was about to happen as he was keeping one eye on me and walking towards me.

Once he got close enough to speak to me, he nicely ask that I pick his pocket. Surely this encounter was a scam, why would someone want me to pick their Pocket!? 

Anywho, I politely refused... and brushed past him, moments later I put my hand in my pocket to get some change for a local news paper only to find that my pocket was a bit wet and slimy! This elasmobranch put his greasy hand into my pocket!!!

I hurried after him in hopes to catch him before he turn the corner and out of my life for ever. I move quickly for a boy named Sue and caught up to him quickly enough.

I then took it upon myself to beat him about the Jaws , fins (dorsal and all) and face!

Unfortunately, he must have offloaded any money he had before I could catch him, if he had any to begin with, but alas my attempt to get any additional cash was only met with empty pockets! Fortunately, he didn't get any from me either. Strangely though, I hope to have a similar encounter soon!
 

Hobbs, fresh from a beatdown of Grin-22 was feeling good. He managed to avoid smearing blood on his shiny bold pinstripe suit and his pocket protector had prevented any pens from leaking onto his shirt. He'd successfully boarded the 12th Street Toilets gloryhole up and society was starting to tick upwards. Everything was coming up Hobbs. As he was walking back towards his car, tailed once again by 180-200 bodyguards he overheard the familiar nasal tones of Headcoach. 

He was regaling the streets with his victims. He'd run riot for a day uncontested, destroying the peace pervert Void several times in the process. But alas, he extended himself too far. He hadn't learned the lesson of Skidmark, nor the lesson of Grin-22. He'd tempted one fate too many times, and this time is fat little sausage fingers had been caught.

"I believe in miracles..." Hobbs whispered as he gave himself the inspirational power boost he needed. He caught Headcoach and began punching. "This is for Jerome! This is for the Poker advice! This is for Hoobs!". Hobbs lost control and kicked his victim. He gave one final kick to Headcoach's unused scrotal area and dusted himself down.

"Put me down for another 10 points."

Hobbs only needed MikeTyson to complete the set, and he was confident he'd get his man.

Iron Mike had been spreading his pickpocket attempts far & wide to try and help the community wrack up some points in Detroit Bingo. Given the pathetic lack of self defense put on display by the goobers in Thummerlin Iron Mike had changed tack & decided it was time to give the occupants of the windy city a chance.

First up was StringerBelll who was either too intimidated to retaliate or has more money to lose than Ol Iron Mike.

You PICKPOCKETED! #StringerBelll. You took $15,000.

I am happy to report the $15,000 was reinvested into the Chicago economy to purchase a new weapon from former Mug City member & recent weapons dealer D0m3n1c as Mike's previous gun had caused him some damage to his finances & reputation recently.

I then had to knock around another windy city resident Imperium whilst pummeling this guy I whispered in his ear, in true doctor of thugenomics style "Try for my pockets & I'll wack you more times than a masturbation tournament friendth" I think he got the methage loud & clear.

You caught up with #Imperium, beat them within an inch of their life, and took $0

Next on the list for an ass whooping was Hobbs the illiterate jibe had hurt Iron Mike's feelth, ESPECIALLY since he was one of the only people to visit the stupid & pompous 'lighthouse of wisdom & knowledge' foolishly set up in Mug City. As Hobbs well knows following the recent unfortunate incident, no army of hired bodyguards could stop Iron Mike.

"I think we could do with a score update from Grin-22" Iron Mike was not attempting any maths geekery for fear of another reputation damaging hearing in front of the thuspiciouth activities committee. 

Daiquiri had been in Detroit on a little bit of a mission. Not only had she been trying to make some money by selling Gas Masks to protect one's nose, but she had also been there awaiting a drug dealer to offer her the top price for her cocaine haul. She was not there long again when she felt a familiar warm, clammy rough-skinned hand attempt her left pocket again. 

Like the previous time, she had no idea who it was. Other than she knew it had to be the same culprit. 

She had stayed overnight at a fancy hotel. IT wasn't because she liked the top of the top hotel chains, was more cause it was one of the few places in the city where the bathrooms were a place of cleanliness. Still being in the city for the second night she made her way from the location of the 12th Streets Toilets towards her hotel and that's when it happened for the third time, only this time she was prepared. She had her left pocket lined with gum so that the next time the culprit attempted to pick her pockets she had a chance. It paid off. She caught him and what a catch she got too. It had been Headcoach the top of all the players from Detroit. Daiquiri wasn't sure if she should've felt alarmed or flattered. 

She swung round and began to lay into the huge man, as his hand was still stuck in her pocket. She yanked it out and beated him senseless. She didn't want to kill the chap, she knew this life well and besides where the fun in showing any mercy?

Eventually, she did stop. She had got blood down her favourite blouse, but at least that was the worse of it. She went into her jack pocket and pulled out some hankies to clean up with. "You know Coach, I get it a man your size going to sweat buckets of sweat, but please do consider drying your hands before you act in future. I will also be claiming those luscious 10 points" She said as she summoned for one of her men to help HeadCoach up, "Thank god that I got somewhere clean to go clean up!" she said as she then instructed for HeadCoach to be dropped off outside of the 12th Street Toilets.

Nicola-Trevisani managed to make her way to the streets, her hands still shaking from the slight annoyance and adrenalin that coursed through her body. Fight or flight had taken over, and while she thought she was perfectly safe in her new home of Chicago, Illinois it turned out those feelings of safety were easily ripped away from her with just one simple act. 

Standing on the outside of the gathering she listened to men and women boast of their successful conquests, but not in the bedroom, but on the streets and in back alleys and other dark-shady places where horrible criminal acts were known to take place. And while Nicola-Trevisani was the peaceful sort, wanting to keep to herself and stay quiet, the thought made her smile, Nicola-Trevisani was there to join those who had come before her to brag. 

But her bragging would be silent, and humble and not much would be made of it.

But after HeadCoach had violated her pockets, her meager earnings at stake, and then fled the area. Therefore Nicola-Trevisani did what any person in her situation would do. She fucking followed him. Which wasn't hard due to every step sending shockwaves through the very girders of the supports holding the Chicago Loop roads up. And when Nicola-Trevisani had caught up with the man, his face red and sweaty, hers still a picture of serenity, the small slim woman leap towards him in a flying silent tackle. 

Unfortunately due to his rotund-figure, sweaty exterior and the smooth fabric of his velour tracksuit, Nicola-Trevisani half bounced, half slid off the man. And while Nicola-Trevisani had managed to retrieve her stolen money and then some, she had not come away with the riches she was hopeful of, nor did she take his gun. But it was a victory none the less. 

From her position on the ground, where her tailbone was more bruised that her ego, Nicola-Trevisani nodded her head in acknowledgement to the crewleader and then tried to gracefully get to her feet, to carry on to the streets. 

Which is where she was now. But no bragging or vocal announcements, no claiming immense victory over others. She just wanted to get her name out there perhaps to tempt others, others who may be foolish enough to keep their pockets full of more money, rather than slices of sweaty warm salami. 

Nicola-Trevisani handed a folded bit of paper to Grin-22 and all it stated was the following: 

Jun 07, 07:59:53    You caught up with HeadCoach, beat them within an inch of their life, and took $37,810

It seems to me like HeadCoach is a bit too easy of prey, how about lowering his points to 5 and upping Grins to 10? I've not seen many people mug that Grin guy, but HeadCoach has an entire line of people apparently beating his ass one after another. Sort of diluting this entire competition, are we not? 

Gnoch, I've picked up a few beatings, sure. I've spent most of the morning gluing my teeth back together, sure. I've been paraded around Las Vegas this morning on a Roman litter due to my broken legs, sure. Does that make me any less of a man? In the physical sense, compared to what I used to be, yes. I'm not a young man anymore. I'm in a lot of pain. My wife has encouraged me to head to a 3-month rehabilitation camp across the country, while assuring me her personal trainer will take good care of her in my absence, which I took a lot of comfort in. I caught him slapping her bum in encouragement the other day, which would've concerned me if she had not explained his militant asexual nature to me. As a mountainous, virile man who makes the most of his birthday kisses from his wife, I cannot pretend to understand that but he is an excellent fitness instructor, and that's what counts.

Still, despite my various undisclosed upper and lower-body injuries, I remain the head of the greatest mafia basketball organization this world has ever seen, a war hero, and overseer of a city proud to have only murdered one allied bodyguard in the last 30 days. I wear my pants up above my belly button. I wear a small watch that looks like it's cutting off blood-flow to my hand. My breath smells like lunch meat. I do these things because I am an American sports coach. I do it because I'm a 10-point man. I do it for the booyahs, baby. 

Its the brutal beatdown I gave Coath on Sunday Gnoch. He has been punchdrunk ever since. He was spotted in the JFMAST locker room this morning talking to a towel. A lesser man would have been in a coma but HeadCoach just keeps on going like the warrior of mug city that he is. Diluting the competition pah! I thcoff at the thought. 

Whilth we are on the thubject of warriors I must shout out Henson I beat that guy bloody this morning (Even before my first protein shake of the day) but on our way to the 12th Street Public bathroom to get him cleaned up he showed some real stones. Will have have the Eduardo's to brag about what happened next in public?

You caught up with $Henson, beat them within an inch of their life, and took $0

Unfortunately, I think our very own Iron Mike learned a lesson about how much of a warrior Henson really is. 

Just after beating my ass he thought he could steal from my pockets too. 

Suffice to say, he got what was coming to him. He was left in a pool of blood. 

Void had been largely unsuccessful in achieving his goal of getting in a few mugs for the bingo boasting bonanza. No matter what he did he could not make out who the girthy gorilla was who kept sneaking off with one of his pocket prizes.

Often when he was on one of his refreshing midnight walks, his pockets would be emptied followed by a deafening roar of laughter. Though Void could easily recognise the majestic roar as being from the @HeadCoachosaurus, he would often have already disappeared from the scene of the crime before Void could visually identify him.

A new scheme came to mind inspired by Daiquiri's earlier bubblegum defence, this time Void would simply sit on a park bench pretending to be asleep and lie in wait like a Venus fly trap. When some Detroit goon would inevitably stick his hands in his ever-so-tempting pockets he'd drop the ruse and start beating the piss out of his attacker using the weapon he kept concealed under his coat, the weapon in question being the thickest encyclopedia that Void had been able to find in the Detroit Public library, that serene place of peace and quiet ran by Hobbs.

Void was pretending to be snoozing when the clanking of Conqueeftador approached. Conqueeftador sat down next to the snoring sloth and after only a few minutes Void could feel a bundle of sporting-socks being slowly pulled out from his pocket stocked with goods. At this point Void sprang to action.

Let this be a victory not just for me, but for the Detroit Public Library as well! If Detroit does not pick up a book, then let the books be brought to them.

Jun 07, 19:22:36     You caught up with !Conqueeftador, beat them within an inch of their life, and took $194,455

Having roughed up the would-be thief Void finally threw the bloodied encyclopedia to the floor, quickly scurrying away and calling an ambulance using the local payphone after realising he got carried away by the rush of the moment.

Hobbs nodded at renowned Peace Pervert Void. It seemed that yesterday had been a bloody battleground for many involved in brutal acts of mugging. Hobbs himself had slipped and been caught by Grin-22 earlier in the day, as well as taking a second beating in the same day from Mikus whilst over in Detroit boarding up the 12th Street Toilets suspiciously placed hole in the wall. His day had been measurably improved though when he heard the tell tale sound of clinking armour when Conqueeftador had tried his luck. Based on Void's summary feedback it had not been a shame for the 15th century aficionado.

Jun 07, 16:38:50

You caught up with Conqueeftador, beat them within an inch of their life, and took $61,843 You also stole their gun.

Yes, it seemed Mr Conqueeftador was showing why he was only worth a paltry 3 points. It wasn't enough to move the dial on any Bingo board, but was still a satisfying conclusion to an afternoon spent in Detroit surrounded by the fumes of cars and jock's heavily protein diet enriched flatulence. The gun he'd received was of course useless, so he'd taken to using that as a paperweight at the library to give it a final purpose in life.

It seems that the word had got out to the public at large not to mess with Iron Mikes pocketh of you would be viciously beaten. Mike had been globe trotting across the USA taking in the sights & sounds of Thummerlin, The Windy City & New York. He had been careful to keep his huge bulge on display to try & tempt people to have a grab at it (His wallet) but very few takers unthortunately. As Mike was a kind & giving soul he was doing his best to give mobsters around the country a chance to practice their boxing skills on him prior to the upcoming contest.

He had stutted up to a Hobbs-esque dweeb called Tito in Thummerlin wearing a dorky 'No PP' badge. Iron Mike was not into being told what to do, so he lifted the guys wallet & stood around awaiting a reaction. Again nothing. Hobbs really should send these guys over to 'Iron Mikes Muscle Maker' while they still had the chance (Mike was expecting a flood of customers to train for the previouthly mentioned contest)

You PICKPOCKETED! #Tito. You took $6,108.

Out in the big apple I finally spotted a victim who would most likely put up a fight. Friendth Henson

You PICKPOCKETED! $Henson. You took $13,462.

Mike wasn't going to hang around for a beating like yesterdays. He was still piththing blood. He was quickly on his toes. Henson ran as hard as he could but with every second the gap got larger. He gave up after a few blocks. 'Thith guy needs to work on his cardiovathcular fitness' muses Iron Mike. After a few hours Mike was just getting finished up KO'ing the PO when he saw Henson creeping up to lift his princely score of $307. Iron Mike needed that money for creatine & his planed vist to the brothel so he delivered a beating like likes of which had not been seen since Coach hit the 12th Street Bathroom after Taco Tuesday.

You caught up with $Henson, beat them within an inch of their life, and took $11,906 You also stole their gun.

Flush with success Iron Mike greeted his friend FrenchieHorn with a friendly 'sports style' bum pat. Frenchie must not have been a sports fan as she absolutely walloped the shit out of Mike. I now have her down as the hot favourite for the upcoming contest, if she isn't too busy sports reporting that ith...

FrenchieHorn caught up to you and beat you down. They took $33 back.

One final beatdown was issued by Iron Mike to Henson to help him get in tip top fighting condition. What a selfless trainer / team mate.

You caught up with $Henson, beat them within an inch of their life, and took $3

I've been getting knocked around all week in Detroit. A man can't even shit out the window in peace anymore. At least the 12st Street Toilets are there. It's one of the few reprieves from the beatings. Since I took up training at Iron Mikes Muscle Maker. I was able to pick up a few pointers from MikeTyson and put it to good work. I've been doing my part on imparting the Detroit way of life on a few people myself recently. 

Jun 09, 02:11:15    You caught up with Jaws, beat them within an inch of their life, and took $0 You also stole their gun.
Jun 08, 20:22:34    You caught up with BBB, beat them within an inch of their life, and took $858 You also stole their gun.
Jun 08, 14:52:02    You caught up with Mikus_, beat them within an inch of their life, and took $3,215
Jun 07, 19:31:20    You caught up with BBB, beat them within an inch of their life, and took $231
Jun 07, 15:17:44    You caught up with BBB, beat them within an inch of their life, and took $9,003
Jun 07, 15:14:55    You caught up with Touch_Of_Evil, beat them within an inch of their life, and took $102

If you come at me expect you better believe you'll get a beatdown. I've been practicing at the gym and my neck mobility is at an all time high. I keep my wallet packed and my pants tight so you better be bringing your A game.      

Time was running out on the Bingo. Hobbs had covered himself in respectable glory as befitting a Prince of Summerlin. Long days spent in Philadelphia giving glorious battle to SouthPhillyCL and his cohorts whilst Headcoach hid behind a very, very large char in the safety and comfort of Detroit. Whilst out there in between heroic engagements with his insane levels of protection (180-200 strong) he still found time to knock the local sports team out of the park.

Both were easy marks, and the Grin-22 was in no way followed up with Grin-22 catching and beating him senseless to in an even trade.

 The only person of note missing from Hobbs bingo card was the elusive Mike Tyson. Several times now Hobbs had tried to follow him only for him to disappear into an alley way, or shoot an ally BG to distract the crowd. Hobbs decided enough was enough and to call him out directly.

"MikeTyson, you ear biting bastard. Come to Detroit and face me if you dare."