Smigly strides up and down his room in a frantic manner, wearing out the already thin carpet by his desk. Muttering to himself in disbelief as he nervously throws down a double shot of vodka down his gullet.Taking a half step towards the mirror, he turns back and pours himself another glass and gulps half of it in one go. Taking a slight pause and taking a deep steady breath, quickly gulping the last remnants of the vodka, Smigly looks at himself in the mirror and turns away in a frantic manner. Accidentally knocking his glass over on the drinks mat, Smigly calls for his assistant.

“SMOGLY! SMOGLY!! WHERE THE FUCCCCK ARE YOU?!”

Moments pass as a smartly dressed man of great stature arrives at the open door and wraps his knuckles against the door frame. “You called Sir?”

Wide eyed, Smigly repeats what his assistant said but in an angry manner. “You called……SIR?!”, Smigly wipes the spittle forming in the right corner of his mouth.

Smogly looks behind himself, rolls his eyes and looks back at Smigly. “You called, Junior Supreme Leader Sir?”. Smigly smiles and loses himself slightly at the sound of his own prestigious title before quickly snapping back to reality. “Why didn’t you remind me of the date of our Supreme Leader Sosabowski’s ascension to the highest leading rank of Bella Vista? Now I’m going to look like a fool in front of our Supreme Leader, our peers in Philadelphia, even that BeardfaceTree guy who missed an open shot in the last war!”, Smigly’s voice hitting a high note at the end of the sentence.

“Sir I do believe a person of your….importance should not be bothered with such frivolous tasks as organizing events. Afterall, you are the Junior Supreme Leader.”, the title said in an almost bitter manner which made Smigly raise his eyebrow in disbelief and about to prepare to shout out abuse before Smogly quickly continued with his point. “Which meant that I asked our courageous left hand Staccato, to plan out all the advertisement, press coverage and organizing of the event.”

Smogly wipes away the sweat developing on his left brow, realizing he may have to keep his disdain for Smigly in check at least for today.

Smigly takes off his military hat and scratches his hair whilst thinking and quickly places the hat back on his head inch perfect. “Soooooooooo, has Staccato told everyone that she organized the event?, Smigly asks in an almost sniveling manner.

Remembering his previous close call with Smigly’s temper, Smogly does an amazing job of keeping in his disdain for Smigly’s obvious lack of talent for planning and execution. “Yes Si…….Junior Supreme Leader, she has already placed your name on the fliers, left your name with the press and knows that you ‘owe her one’,” Smogly emphasizes the last part of the sentence.

Looking to his left and out of the big Victorian window covering the majority of the office's back wall, Smigly sees the masses of people starting to congregate outside the big reinforced wrought iron gates Sosabowski had recently put in the front of the HeadQuarters at great expense.

“Time to make greatness happen!”, Smigly exclaims as he walks out of his office and to the front of the HeadQuarters, quickly followed by Smogly muttering under his breath.

Opening the big metal doors and stepping out onto the streets, Smogly takes a look around and sees a bountiful amount of familiar faces and esteemed guests from families that frequent the six cities. Looking to his left, Smigly notices Staccato mouthing to him “you owe me one” discreetly as Smigly responds with an equally discreet “yes”.

Taking the stand, Smigly rustles through his blank pieces of paper and clears his throat. “As you may all know, I am well known for my replies and even more so for my grand speeches.”

Smigly pauses for dramatic effect, and expecting a rapturous applause, but only managing a few sniffs and a cough.

“Please welcome our Supreme Leader of the Free World and Godfather to Bella Vista, SOSABOWSKI!”

Daiquiri was doing the rounds of visiting people now that things were calmer. Her next stop would be to Philidelphia to visit the new Godfather there. She knew the man well, from when he was just a young boy. She always knew he would grow into something grand and now everyone will notice him.

AftPhiladelphian the city of Phillidelphia she found a driver ready to pick her up and drive her over to Bella Vista, which didn't take too long. She got out of the car and could see that the headquarters were well manned with soldiers with big guns. Some were marching to and fro from the entrance. She walks towards it to try and gain access.

"Halt!" a man shouted in her direction, making her grind to a stop. "Who goes there? State your business." the man yelled further. She started to explain. She suddenly found herself a bag of nerves. "I am Don Daiquiri from Las Vegas. Your Godfather-General is expecting me!" she replied to him, as she showed him her I.D card. "Very well. Follow me." he said as he summoned for the doors to be opened, to lure her into the building. "Wait here", he yelled, as they arrived into a big hallway.

Footsteps, Daiquiri could hear the sound of marching footsteps getting louder and louder in her direction. It had a pattern to it, a rhythm, never faltering at all. The new Godfather-General was walking up to her. Stood up straight with zero eye contact what so ever. He had his stick under his arm and wore his uniform well. His polished boots was immaculate. She couldn't help but hold her thoughts in, that there was no way in hell that Smigly could keep Sosobowski looking so smart and neat as he was.

Finally, the new Godfather-General was within talking distance to Daiquiri. He greeted her, there was people around. She could understand he had to keep up appearances. "Welcome", he said to her, as she responded with a hello and thanked to him. "I, just wish to come on by and offer my congratulations on your new rank of Godfather, on behalf of Last Vegas." She said with a smile. Sosobowski stood, emotionless. She was sure he was happy to see her, she tried to read his eyes. "Oh, and this gift is from Void. He made them for you this morning. A fresh batch of Stroopwafels. We do hope you enjoy them" she said further as she went to hand him the gift. He took the gift. Again standing stiff, without showing any emotion. He didn't even look down at the box. Still, at least he knew she was proud to see him and she was sure he would enjoy the waffles too.

Silence, she wasn't sure what to say next. She wasn't sure if she should say she was off home then, or if she should wait to be dismissed. She waited, she was not going to risk upsetting him or making him feel foolish. She just stood there. She waited till it was time for him to turn and march towards the dining room, for his dinner. It took her a few minutes to realise that it wasn't even dinner time. She then took that as the code, he was projecting to her that he was happy with her visit. She made her way out of the headquarters and headed directly to the airport to make her way home.

"Huzzah!"

The General newly promoted Marshal had just delivered what was possibly his greatest speech yet, a fine addition to a long line of magnificent and noteworthy speeches. It was truly magnificent. Even with their renowned iron discipline, drilled into them from the very first days in the Army, the assembled soldiers were close to tears. Because it was just that good, not because it was an epic failure, or anything. A much better response than the sniffs, sneezes and coughs that dear Smigly's speech had elicited. Sadly however, for unknown reasons, the speech had not been recorded, written down or preserved in any way. Strangely, none of the soldiers interviewed after the fact could remember the contents or delivery of the speech either, though we are told it was truly amazing — as one would expect from the Marshal. In any case, it was much better than the speech delivered by @Smigly, who, however hard he might try, was no Hiro. God rest his soul.

The Marshal felt good. This was his moment. This was the culmination of a long career. He had started off as a lowly hoodlum assigned to provide protection to the top brass, and now, after considerable hardship, he was part of that illustrious band. Yes! He felt (and looked) like the million bucks still unclaimed from the Great Checkers Challenge. Many victories had been won, and though there were setbacks, these were always manageable. The army advanced. 

He went back into the main room, hoping to relax for a bit and recover from the immense strain that naturally comes with just having delivered such an excellent and memorable speech. There was, however, a visitor waiting for him. It was Don (Acting Godfather-Chairman) Daiquiri, who had flown in all the way from Las Vegas. Shit. What was the correct procedure here? She was, of course, technically of lower rank, but everyone with a functioning brain (and the Marshal prided himself on possessing one) would know that such things are deceptive. In practical terms, Daiquiri outranked him. It wouldn't matter so much, had this been a more private occasion, but he had to keep up appearances and follow protocol. Mustn't set a bad example to the troops. This was elementary stuff. His old instructor at the academy would surely yell at him, had he been alive. Thankfully, he had long since died in suspicious circumstances, possibly to do with a former janitor and a voodoo doll. 

The Marshal, drawing on his experience and keen tactical sense, decided that adopting a firm, unbending and stoic posture was the best course of action. Maybe she'd chalk it up to him being well-disciplined, or something. That sounded reasonable. Nobody would ever have to find out. It'd be perfect. "Welcome" he said in a gravely voice. That sounded pretty good. A bit informal perhaps. She responded with a warm, heartfelt greeting and a smile. The Marshal remained emotionless. It could be a trick. A deception. He noticed she was searching for eye contact, some way to look into his soul and read his emotions. If only he had brought his sunglasses. All the coolest military men had sunglasses. It would've matched with his beret and his moustache really well, too. Oh well. Thankfully, she then presented a gift. From the corner of his eye, he could see the box. He did not want to look at it. Where would he look to, without being too awkward? God, he really should've brought those sunglasses. Is it weird to wear sunglasses indoors? He'd have to ask @Hobbs one day.

Stroopwafels. The box, allegedly, contained stroopwafels. He did like a good stroopwafel. Delicious. Strange though, how they were apparently made on such short notice, while Treebeard continues to claim he can't get good ones anywhere, though it must be said that man has difficulty getting at things that are right in front of him. He was very old, in fairness. Anyways, stroopwafels were good. Right. Was he supposed to say something?​​​​​​​ A brief, courteous 'thank you', or something of that nature?​​​​​​​ Probably best not to break with the 'tough guy' act. It seems like she was buying it. The troops were buying it. Yes, he'd stick with that. So he stood there, and stared, and stared. Into the void (not the one that made the Stroopwafels). He was like a rock. Immovable. Only time, wind, water and sand would, over the course of hundreds of years, erode him. He was more immovable than the western front during the Great War. Patience.

It wasn't until quite some time later that he noticed that Don (Acting Godfather-Chairman) Daiquiri had left, and presumably had left for some time. Oh well. He was sure it wasn't awkward or anything. Maybe he'd write a note later, thanking her for the stroopwafels. As soon as the occasion would allow him, he would start devouring them, though one must, of course, be careful not to leave any chunks or crumbs in the moustache. Only savages like Hobbs walk around like that.​​​​​​​

"Finally" Daiquiri blurted out, from the back seat of her taxi, as it drove up the driveway towards her headquarters of The Forest. She was feeling somewhat relieved. She was home. It had been a busy day of travelling and she felt like she had been to visit a strict headmaster at some boarding school. She knew it wasn't so, but boy it was what it felt like her Sosabowski meeting would've looked like. Acting the part was one thing, but feeling it was another.

Still, she was home and for some reason, the welcoming committee was there to greet her. Void, being the true gentleman that he was, opened the door for her to get out of the car. "Welcome home boss," he said with a little twinkle and a smile. Daiquiri got out of the car, "Thank you, nice to see you!" she replied chirpily, as she made her way to go up to the door of their building. Treebeard was sat on the steps, it was then she realised he had a bottle of wine in his hand and was asleep. "I see he's been working hard as ever!" Daiquiri remarked as Treebeard spoke from his slumber "I am just a lonely bastard" he grumbled in his thick Irish accent. It was late in the day and it's only natural to need a little downtime. 

Just then Wish appeared, looking rather hot and sweaty after his evening jog. As he tried to catch his breath "Welcome home Daiquiri" he said greeting her. "Argh the perfect man for a job" she replied, "Please, carefully switch that wine bottle in Treebeard's hand for maybe a bottle of something non-alcholic. Long as it is not poison, I don't mind what!" she instructed him. Wish nodded and ran off towards the kitchen to find something, only to return with a bottle of washing-up liquid and a smirk on his face. "Perfect!" Daiquiri said with a chuckle as she made her way in. 

Daiquiri finally got to her office and sat down. Void followed her to get an update, "So, how did my Stroopwafels go down?" he enquired to her, about her visit to the new Godfather of Bella Vista. "To be honest, I am not too sure. He had to keep up appearances no doubt. But I did congratulate him on becoming Godfather-General and as I left he made his way to the dining room with your gift. It wasn't even dinner time. Let us take that as a positive sign!" she replied. A look of horror went over Void's face. "What?" Daiquiri snapped, she could see something was up. "Out with it... " she continued, "Well, he isn't a Godfather-General, he is a Godfather-Marshall now" he replied as if he felt she was not going to be impressed. Silence. She took the news by standing up and walking over to her drinks cabinet. She poured herself a very large drink of Gin. She didn't even add a mixer. She knocked back the drink before responding. "Book me a flight. Book me in to see him again, please" she instructed her left-hand man to do. "More Stroopwafels?" he replied for her to respond "Quadruple it!".

She had still now slept. Not even on the flight back to Philidelphia. She needed to ensure that Sosabowski knew she made an error with the way she addressed him and needed to ensure relations were fine. She was more nervous than the first time she went there. She knew what to expect sure, but that awkwardness, of the stare-off towards one another, she was not looking forward to it. 

Eventually, she arrived back at the headquarters in Bella Vista. Just as the previous time, she was told to halt, state her business and show her ID. Even though the man would've known who she was, why she was there and where she would need to go. "Follow me" he yelled at her as he turned and began to march towards the hallway again, just like to the previous time. As they got into the hallway she was certain he was about to tell her to wait there. So she stopped. The man took a few steps more to then realised she had stopped, he turned and smiled, "Not this time. This time you get a private audience with him. You are a very lucky woman!" he said. Daiquiri no longer knew what was going to happen. She followed him. Was she in trouble? Anxiety began to wash over her. She had left her guards outside to drink tea with some of Sosabowski's soldiers. 

"Go through there," the man said pointing to a room. Daiquiri made her way in. It was Sosabowski's office. He stood behind his desk upright and saluting. She had no idea why he was doing that, but who was she to question it? Sosabowski instructed them to be left alone, "Including you Miss," he said directing a instruction at his secretary. "We are just out here if you need us," they told him. The door closed. Sosabowski and Daiquiri were alone at last.

"Thank god for that, we can finally talk!" Sosabowski said as his shoulders relaxed, removing the 'looking like a stiff board' body language. He ran around his desk to hug Daiquiri. She was relieved herself, finally, she knew all was well. "I came to correct the formality where I congratulated you on Godfather-General, when it was Godfather-Marshall, Congrats!" she said to clear the air with a little chuckle.

Daiquiri was holding yet another box of the Stroopwafels that she knew he likes. Only this time, his eyes lowered to look at the box, his eyes showed joy. His hands were rubbing together. He started to bounce on his feet, "Are they for me? Are they? Daiquiri, did Void bake again?" he blurted out, like a child high on E numbers. "Yes, they are..." Daiquiri started to reply, as he took the box from her and ran back to his desk to sit down. He opened them and it was as if he had forgotten she was there. He dived right in to eat as if he has never eaten one before. He did not stop until they were all gone. "That was sooooo good!" he yelled with joy after. So much so that there was a knock at his door "Sir, we are coming in if you do not respond!" a man shouted. "No, no need" Sosabowski replied yelling as he began to panic tidying up his desk and getting himself back standing straight in front of Daiquiri.

She was trying very hard not to laugh, but she couldn't help it. "Stroopwafels!" she blurted out with laughter causing Sosabowski to lose control, he too began to laugh. Only his laugh was similar to someone being tortured. Daiquiri couldn't help it, she had a mother side to her. She spotted bits of waffles sitting in Sosabowskis moustache, "Let me help" she remarked as she pulled out a hanky from her jacket. Just as she went to tidy him up, his officers came barging through the door of the office. Daiquiri and Sosabowski looked at one another with fear. The moment felt like it was going to last forever. They looked compromised. "All good sir?" his officer said, resulting in Sosabowski standing up straight and turning, "Get out of my office. You only rush in if I say the safe word!" he yelled back. "But sir, we heard it. Stroopwafels is your safe word!" the officer replied. He had mistaken hearing Daiquiri for Sosabowski. Daiquiri could see he was getting red in the face then, he had been mistaken for a woman's voice. "I said get out, we shall talk later," Sosabowski said once again to his officer, who nodded and left.

Silence ensured for a few minutes. "So, Stroopwafels is also your safe word?" Daiquiri said, keeping her face straight as possible. She didn't wish to cause anguish to her friend at all. She wasn't even shocked. "It is. But from now on it will be Daiquiri" he replied. She smiled, "Much better than waffles" she replied. He got them a drink to sit down with and they finally had a chance to catch up. Until it was time once again for Daiquiri to make her way home again, to finally get some sleep.