FrizzleFry yawns and stretches as he sits up in his assistant coach bed.  He is ready to face the day with a winner's attitude.  He puts his short red assistant coach shorts on one leg at a time, just like everyone else.  He eats some fruit for breakfast, peering over his shoulder to make sure no nosey onlookers were peering into his window, as fruit had been deemed off-limits in Detroit.  

He finishes his breakfast and walks outside to his mailbox.  He pulls the envelope from the box, discarding the various restraining orders filed against him.  He open one of the envelopes with a Philadelphia return address in the corner.  He frowns and shales his head.  More junkmail from XisXis.  Against all better judgement, he takes the time to read the letter.  "Find this prick" is all the letter said.  Included in the envelope was a statement provided by a witness who saw a person shoot at XisXis, however the name on the statement was illegible.  Assistant Coach FrizzleFry wondered why this was his job to decipher who the person was, and tossed it over his shoulder onto a nearby pile of other XisXis letters.

The sun was shining and a slight breeze led Assistant Coach FrizzleFry to believe that today was going to be a good day.  He was wrong.

From out of the clear blue, Grin-22 charged and tackled FrizzleFry, pummeling him with his meaty paws that dangled sillily from his noodle arms.  He pulls FrizzleFry's mailbox from the ground and begins pummelling him with it.  Letters from XisXis go flying everywhere.

"We may have lost Halloween, but I didn't lose my ability to mug. I want that acknowledged as such  BOOOOOOOOOOOYAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH." Grin-22 exclaimed as his fists continued to rain punches down on Frizzlefry's face and head.  Badly beaten and bruised, FrizzleFry awoke several hours later to find that Grin-22 had taken $1,339 from him.  This ended up actually being a pretty lousy day after all.

Please share your own Detroit mug stories here, whether they be from the perspective of the mugger or the muggee.  Mug stories from outside the Detroit city limits are acceptable yet discouraged.

June 5th began like any other day. Skidmark woke up surrounded by loose women, empty beef jerky wrappers, and beer cans strewn about his Greektown apartment. He grabbed a glass of water to rehydrate before heading down to the gym. HeadCoach did not tolerate tardiness and demanded his athletes to be in peak physical shape, irrespective of their after-hours conduct.

Walking ahead of him on the sidewalk going towards the gym was Denis, a known associate and main advisor of Mike Tyson. A huge nest of red hair protruded from around his fedora. Skidmark noticed a few loose bills hanging out of his back pocket and, being the benevolent and altruistic man that he was, decided to help out.

He walked up behind Denis and caught the money just as it was about to fall out of his pocket and into a pile of vomit on the sidewalk. He was only allowed to feel the gratification of doing a good deed for a split second, when the frail ginger man spun around and clocked him right in the jaw. This took Skidmark by surprise, not only because he was trying to be helpful, but also because Denis was not known as a fighter. As Skidmark fell into the pile of vomit, Denis leaned down and removed Skidmark's pistol from inside his waistband, then walked off.

Skidmark laid there momentarily, waiting to regain his composure, and noticed that Frizzlefry was standing in a nearby doorway with a smirk and look of amusement on his face. He was happily enjoying a bowl of healthy grapefruit and did not bother to help Skidmark up from the ground...

"Listen, I know you saw what just happened. If you do not tell anyone that I got my ass kicked by a ginger, I will not tell Coach about your choice of breakfasts. Have beer and pretzels like a real Detroit athlete!"

Frizzefry nodded in agreement, and the two parted ways, never to discuss the incident again. June 5th was a shitty day.

Dmitry was out for a run yesterday and found himself running from Bricktown past 12th and all the way to corktown. He noticed that alot of the Detroit residents are looking rather flabby around the mid section these days… Knowing flabby belly causes slow reaction times, Dmitry decided to try his luck at provoking some fights, but all his efforts in Detroit were in vein.
 

BBB was clearly too busy writing his report. “Hey BBB sitting on that bum, writing all day has caused you to go into a coma and I was able to pick your pockets multiple times. I did for a moment think you might have noticed as you made a growl, but it was just a noise you made whilst napping”

“Although FrizzleFry can be excused as when I paid him a visit he was clearly distracted as he was making paper airplanes out of the copious amounts of discarded letters sent by XisXis”. As Dmitry dodged a paper plane with the words ‘this prick’ on the side he was able to dip into FrizzleFry pockets and noticing that spare tyre around his stomach. Fizzle didn’t even notice Dmitrys well sculpted forearm dip into his pockets and take 15k.
 

And just as Dmitry thought his run was over his superior stamina kicked in and saw MikeTyson on the sidewalk. Dmitry dug deep and started sprinting towards Iron Mike, stuck his hands in his pockets only for one of his bodyguards to bump into him and was unable to grab anything. Mike being distracted didn’t even retaliate with a beat down.
 

Dmitry starts to reminisce on his 24 hour jog and looks at his pumped muscles. He decides now is a good time to look over his notepad for the day:

Jun 13, 18:04:41 You PICKPOCKETED! BBB.You took $3,463.

Jun 13, 16:50:56 You PICKPOCKETED! BBB. You took $15,000.

Jun 13, 15:46:33 You PICKPOCKETED! BBB. You took $15,000.

Jun 13, 22:18:23 You PICKPOCKETED! BBB. You took $1,214.

Jun 14, 11:44:34 You PICKPOCKETED! FrizzleFry. You took $15,000.

Jun 14, 12:45:29 You tried to PICKPOCKET! MikeTyson.

“It’s clear that Detroit isn’t the city it once was. HeadCoach looks like you need to send your boys to a bootcamp, they all seem rather lethargic. You call this ‘mug city’? The only mug I saw was the mug of coffee on Frizzle’s desk burning a stain into letters set from Xis.

Kr

Dmitry

"Its true Dmitry, I have been wondering who that sneak thief was. I suppose I should look up from my writing more regular. However, HeadCoach wanted me to keep at it and gave me approval to neglect some of my other Detroit requirements. I always have time to mug Jaws you just cant look at him and not."

He wondered if maybe he had become soft sitting, writing and making millions. He hope HeadCoach would forgive him. I must be more like Void he thought to himself. Void was a man whose image was now plastered across many a young girls bedroom in Detroit and rumours have spread than even Grin-22 had one hidden away somewhere. 

Iron Mike makes a slobbery high pitched squeak through broken teeth & bloody lips.

"Thatth thome fine work comrade Dmitry. Iron Mike heard the call out & like Pavlovth Dogth he mutht rethpond. Now I must admit you caught Ol Iron Mike coming off the back of a 3 day fever....Not that a warrior like Iron Mike needed to make excutheth. A good mugging is a thing to be appreciated not feared. But thhit man I was burning up so hot I couldn't even KO the PO or tend my soon to be a mega successful Boxing Competithion. I was hotter than Hobbs that time I saw him looking guilty with a trouther tent leaving the 12th Street Public Bathroom."

"Anyway got off on a little tangent there. I eagerly await my next chance to beat you into a coma friend Dmitry " 

BBB surely you must be pulling my leg. How could a scrawny wimp like me who prefers spending his days in the local library as opposed to getting MAD GAINS in the gym catch the eye of any Detroit gal? This is a city of athletes, not a city of public-toilet avoiding peace perverts.

As for Grin-22 having a picture of me, I think the only things of mine that he has are 5 discount coupons for sneakers, 3 tubes of heat-rub, a pair of sport-socks and a bag of cashew nuts. It's amazing how often that man gets into my pockets.

Void, we are gathered here on this corner to exchange valiant tales of muggery.   All you have done is cataloged a litany of sneaky pickpockets.  TOTALLY IRRELEVANT to the topic at hand.  It's like listening to the late great sisterivoryDarkmore humblebrag about all the tips she receives in the middle of somebody's conversation. It's not what this discussion is about.

As far as our torsos, yes we may have gotten a little carried away when HeadCoach decided that Detroit Donut Tuesday would run daily between Monday and Friday.  He now refers to every weekday as Detroit Donut Tuesday, which makes it confusing to schedule any meetings with him.  Anyway, fortunately MikeTyson has turned us onto his homemade Hyphy mud concoction, which has accelerated our heartrates in hopes of burning off some extra calories without too much additional effort.  But I digress.

sigh Now you've got me talking off-topic too Void.  Really glad you stopped by.  Come back when you've got some good MUG stories to share.

For a long time now, I have been trying to perfect my skills in the art of lifting the wallet from someone's pocket without them realising. 

I'm getting a lot better at it, on quite a few occasions I have managed to get away with a decent sum of money. 

Pickpocketing the unathletic, limp, lacklustre figure of someone like Jaws has proved difficult at times however, no doubt due to his unending pool of knowledge and street smarts. 

Miketyson has still manage to evade me also and given me so many brutal beatings, I couldn't possibly keep count. Long term damage has been done. Not only to my pride but physical injuries, now affecting my basketball career. 

Anyone know for a good physio?

"In honour of Mike Tyson's criminal rise to the top of the VIP rankings, the most coveted spot in sports entertainment today I'd like to regale you all with a tale that no doubt would form the basis of his Supervillain origin story should he ever develop down that path. Already we've seen signs of the ego and evil coming out in the way he shot at an innocent man's bodyguards for no other reason than gaining half a point on this kill-ometer that he keeps on the wall of his hallway."

Hobbs paused

"I'm just a man like many of you here, albeit a far richer, more successful version. Iron Mike wanted a piece of that, but on that day he was more copper than Iron; brittle and easily bent. He attempted to pick my pocket and failed. In return I  found him trying to some how bank the future earnings from his yet to be revealed sham boxing competition and cleaned him out. I beat the absolute piss out of him, so much so he actually started talking without a lisp for a while before slowly slipping back into his old ways.

Jun 09, 15:42:57

You caught up with MikeTyson, beat them within an inch of their life, and took $21,366,078

Afterwards he sent several letters begging me to return the money, but I refused.  Instead I used it for philanthropy. I fed the poor and the needy. I bought and brought books to the masses. And yes, if you're asking, at that time I did register a $20 million all cash purchase of a private fleet of airlines and an an Airport in Summerlin - all part of my plan to keep balls out of the district. 

What made it worse for Iron Mike was when I won the lottery a day later and pocketed another $65 million. At that time he came to my door in nought but a robe and a hat and begged again.

This time I let him in, but even after he prostituted himself (The exact deeds remain a closely guarded secret) I still refused to pay. Yes, I defeated him again.

To get revenge he entered me into a biased first round match in his so-called competition, and as soon as my man Sketches (Where you at?) returns my phone calls and takes another pro-bono case I shall beat him into submission and take his cash for a third time.

Thank you for listening to my Hobbs-talk"

Brother Dmitry thank you for the concern. Iron Mike is feeling much better since his fever broke, the only thing I am high on now is the VIP pothter litht. Would you be so kind as to confirm which of my 2 recent victims you would consider as my livener? Who from friendth Justice or friendth twigs is in your opinion inept or feeble? Your wordth my friendth... 

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

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

Iron Mike grinned, despite the bravado, he was sure the super slippery eel like fellow who had tried to pick his pocket earlier may have indeed been Dmitry. How the thuck doeth he keep getting away with it? muses Iron Mike.  

Iron Mike had even had to recently put one of his own under some serious manners. He had heard brother Torael-thatcher had, in strict breech of established mug city protocol, returned cash to a pick pocket victim. Mike was glad to correct the fellow & was sure this lapse in judgement wouldn't repeat itself. 

You caught up with Torael-thatcher, beat them within an inch of their life, and took $283,998

Friendth Hobbs, I am proud that you could indeed honour my meteoric rise to the apex of VIP Pothter Thardom. My natural place as a number 1 sports entertainer has brought some joy to Iron Mikes household. Joy a measly $21.3 million could never buy. Although if you want to dithcuss throwing your lottery winning's in, I could potentially be persuaded to give you 'your' old spot back. I know you don't have much else going on you thee...

I apprethiate the congratulationth brother Dmitry. I now come to you with a business proposition / proposition bet.

I am strutting around Corktown with a rather large bulge in my pants. Now I know you may be thinking this is related to seeing MidpoinT kick the mortal shit out of Hobbs but you would be mithtaken thir. The bulge is my wallet. I saw you had some interest in the new Chicago backed horse racing racket. I have already acquired a horse fondly named 'Hobbs is a filthy arsonist' now believe me when I thay thith Nag can run, its had more milkshakes than HeadCoach & more steroids than an average Kentucky Derby winner. I was going to call the thing Nandrolone phenylpropionate but took pity on the poor horse racing commentator. Falloutia has assured me as the first cash paying purchaser I have the best in class horse. A winning machine!

Before I get too off track the propothition is this. If you as a self confessed stealth god can make an attempt on my wallet, today in Corktown without me bashing the good looks off your face. We split the horse ownership 50-50 & you can even choose the name. In fact, even if I bash your face into a bloody mess lets share the horse in the spirit of mutal co-operation between LA & Mug City. 

Ball is in your court friendth...

The challenge had been laid down by Iron Mike. Lift his wallet for the thrill of the challenge, mano en mano. Dmitry being a man who could appreciate a good act of over the top violence was only too happy to oblige. He had thucked up. Mike knew the locals in Corktown like the back of his hand. From the crazy cat lady cum sports reporter FrenchieHorn, to the deviant who hung out in the public bathrooms CancidRunt, to the other 5 members of Mikes HUGE criminal organisation. Mike knew them all, each had a place. He would see any would be pickpocket coming from a mile off. On Mike's home turf the 'Jungle Cat' was just a plain old pussy. 

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

Mike feels the hand on his rear pocket, this was no friendly bum pat from the sausage fingers of HeadCoach, this was his prey. He quickly spins & launches a stiff jab into the face of Dmitry. His head snaps back, blood & spittle flying. He hits a overhand right with the force of a thousand suns & follows this up with his classic 'Knock your ass to the moon' uppercut. Dmitry falls to the floor like a marionette with the strings cut.

Mike is PUMPED. "WOOO, MUG CITY BABY!" is the rebel yell at a high pitch. 

Mike feels the sausage fingers of HeadCoach giving him a friendly bum pat 'Good Job Iron Mike' is almost out of his mouth before Mike hits him with a quick 1,2. Snap, Pop. Iron Mike pulls back his right fist & releases it with tremendous force toward the boss of Detroit. His shovel sized fist arced forward, headed straight for HeadCoach's surprised face. His fist landed with a thud on his left cheek, sending ripples of fat cascading back towards his ears, then back forward. He looked like a sputtering seal. Iron Mike knows full well the Iga Swiatek of basketball coaching cannot be knocked out so cuts the beating short. 

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

'What the fuckth Mike?' says the Buddah of Ball.

"Just keeping you on your toes Cothth, call it practice for your upcoming fight in the boxing compethition. If you can survive Iron Mike you can thurvive anything..."

'Good looking out Iron Mike'

"Cmon Coath lets get you & Dmitry down to the public toiletth for a clean up. When Dmitry comes out of his coma I plan to take him for a drink (Protein Shake) & come up with thome nameth for our joint owned race horthe"

MikeTyson tried to PICKPOCKET you. 

Well I was told to mug back or face demotion, so here goes:

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

OMG I can't believe a little waif of a girl like me just whooped MikeTyson ass. I have a feeling I will be looking over my shoulders for a very long time.. 

But SOOOOOO worth it *laughs out loud*

Iron Mike was on his way for his usual 11AM post protein shake poop in the 12th Street Public Bathrooms when he noticed Mug City new girl DeathbecomesMe it seemed she had ordered a full cleaning crew into the famous Mug City tourist attraction. Iron Mike was furious but in a show of remarkable restraint he grimaced a smile & gave DeathbecomesMe a friendly (Sports style, not harassment style!) bum pat of encouragement. Clearly BBB had not briefed his new left hand on how we do things in mug city. Before Iron Mike had managed to pipe out a high pitched 'What up friendth' a fist was already making its way to his nose at tremendous speed. 

POW

Iron Mike could feel the sting of tears forming in his eyes. Before he could explain the bum pat & its honoured status amongst the citizens of mug city, 12th Street Left hand followed up with a dickpunch which Alina would have been proud of. Iron Mike folded up like a standard man sized chair under the strain of HeadCoach's mighty bulk. As he hits the floor DeathbecomesMe followed up with 3 quick blows to the face.

Later when Iron Mike regained consciousness he picked up his teeth (Thuddenly most happy the the bathroom had been cleaned) & mused that we really thhould train DBM up as a fighter. With a little work down at Iron Mikes Muscle Maker she could be a contender. With some work Mike was confident that DBM would lay down some terrific beatingth. 

Mike reminisces on his most recent beatdowns of the great and the good from across the criminal fraternity.

You caught up with @HeadCoach, beat them within an inch of their life, and took $165

A great way to stay in shape & prep for his upcoming fight.

You caught up with Void, beat them within an inch of their life, and took $263 

The alleged peace pervert didn't just get one beating, he came back for a second. Iron Mikes notes to himself that Void may be a possible Masochist.

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

Welcome to the life of a mug city crew leader. We work hard, we mug hard.

You caught up with Utter_Cad, beat them within an inch of their life, and took $167

A spiffing beat down of the Brooklyn based Capo had brought a smile to Mikes face and a tent to the cads trousers.

 You caught up with $Henson, beat them within an inch of their life, and took $275

Yet more Mug City on Mug city violence. We must be the most mug positive people on earth. Either that or the most brain damaged.

You caught up with Spicy, beat them within an inch of their life, and took $903 

Spicy GRHS soon left the life of crime after this beatdown. Iron Mikes hopes his assault wasn't a factor in the decision. 

You caught up with Treebeard, beat them within an inch of their life, and took $56,963

Iron Mike has to give brother Tree some props, dethpite his moveth being a little wooden (GETTIT?) he was a tough opponent & the only person who didn't immediately bank their funds prior to a poppa Mike beat down.