Freshly promoted to the prestigious rank of Gangsterrd. The derdy'est werd oh'dee'ol feckin'souf, souf'paw't'un'duh'souf'ern'sailorzz'mouff? Whozizzeez1s eh lads and lassies? 

KeroWackerr sets tone for the scenari0 as a cloaked man in the dead quiet of the skreetz'skraped'ed the bottoms of his back pockets. The freshest i7 turned to try to catch a glimpse of the pocket'assailant, but it had squandered'eez loot wiff'a'boot'scoot'en'a'shufflerr. Clean getaway into a crowd, the perfect blend-in playy. Wonder if it was a him/her/they or some other weird thing these 'ornery'n'a'orny'th'oad'ed'eez'w000t? 

A beautiful bearded man clicked in his ear as he turned back to head to'werdz where mee'maww said there'd be a Durden'd'Herd'ed Bott'ilyyGard'in'h03zZz. This was the one and only toes goes sonn't of a son of a gunn. The fuckin' brigadiers general of a generals slaughterr. Son of a fookin'nun. LTohLT kept clickin' 'eez'eelz thruu the sidewalk of a thoroughfare. He saw what looked like a shady deal being done on the corner at a newspaper stand. Kid was being given a hard time over the quality of the watches he was selling. USS LT walkz overr and takes a gander at the product. His port'r'syde eyebrow lowers in focus, head tilts port'r'syde'edly. Star'berd twitches upwerd as he gets a whiff of the feller talkin' shit to a poor kid.

Somethin' about a scratch, which to the train'ed'ed eye. You could see it was a beautiful fold in the metal. Kinda looked like a raised eyebrow actually. Weird e'nuff it was placed over a circular pattern you couldn't really make whats'it'even'ferr 'eadz'orr'talez?

Tired of listenin' to the skruff'wannabe'tuff talk in the starberd ear, a starberd elbow made it's way into the through'th'uh summ'dum'guii. DumplinzBeDammt if that son of a bitch didn't grab his neck and start choking on his own wheezin'whindin'windzz. A swift port'r'syde kick connects with the mans ribs. A little crack can be heard, and the star'berd'ed toe follows up on the other side. More force as this time he took a hop'n'uh'skip2hisloo this kanga'roo't the fuck out of this dumb piece of shits ribcage again. If you swing your shoulders in, the hips will follow. Proper wind up of the knee with the for'werd momentum of stepping into the kick. Proper technique to break a fookin'rib'kunt.

A starberdsyded KannonKameKrashin' down from the winds caused by the arm. Flick'oh'dee fanga'en'uh'hamma bang'ed'yuhh. PEZ'eest dispenserrd dispersed a terd in the skreetzz.

The kid cries and runs away, dropping the prettiest of watches that the ol' LToheezownLT laid eyes on a'forr.

LT picks it up and inspects it as he continues his peruse through the street. Suddenly he hears a ruckus, someone screams DurdyHerd! He sees two men start DART'n the public trans'fare. The both cut into different back alleys of the same intersection. CourseDeezOddOlSackOhShittAlwaysWentOddSyde. So he cut a left and followed what appeared to be the weaker specimen of the two. He couldn't determine what to do with this hu'flung'puu'puu all over this scenari0 in the first plac3?

So a port'r'syded kannon comes flyin' out of the holster.

BANG

One shot into the kneecap. Ol' knee'clappa'kappa. Always a good shmoove for the grooven'gravy of information. The 2'one'fo'StunnA begin beating the everlivin' hoot out of this guy trying to figure out how Durds were getting their way into Dallas. What they wanted with his family, and why the fuck did he shoot his retired from a life of crimes father leg in the middle of an art gallery? 

The LT of his own LT cruises on, Peacock classed Corvette-warship Gunnin'ist'ayyyyyy of dee fookin' sea. The 'gypt'Sea. GypsyGangster. FatGypsyKon'be'kummz'Kannon.