What could be said about the worm? He was a business magnate with various companies throughout the United States, he was a philanthropist who would regularly steal from mobsters such as Savannah and redistribute the wealth to all of the poorer citizens, and there were even times when he was a murderer, a cold-blooded wormy killer who felt no remorse for his evil deeds; police and the uncrewless had all been put down by his trusty piece, through that guilt of not being perfect and sometimes committing homicide-- singles, doubles, and sometimes even triples, the worm decided that he had to give back even more.

"What about a detective agency?" 

"We already tried that one. No one needed our sleuthing. It seems that most mobsters are pretty tight-lipped about crime."

"So we throw money out of a few windows? Give the people what they want?"

"M-my money? My money? Come on. There has to be something better than that. Keep thinking."

This conversation dragged on for hours, and none of the people in the room could come to a satisfying conclusion on what to do to become better people. Their souls were on the line, and the worm didn't want to become something even worse in his next life: that's when an idea hit him from the skies.

Systematic Immolation of News

At first, he had thought it was a bug or JubTheNub angrily throwing more lettuce out of his burgers, but after a few moments of fighting with what had just covered one of his eyes, eventually, the worm was able to see it for what it was: It was a flier looking for some sort of freelance newspaper work, a man who went by the name of Mr. Kuku was in search of people who were willing to get their hands dirty and help him with what looked to be a simple paper.

"This guy, he's looking for all the wrong things. War? What is it good for?"

"I don't know."

"Exactly, neither do I. This is the sort of journalism that we need to be bringing to the table, stuff that helps the people. We could end a war! We could solve a crisis. We could... we could... make a lot of money."

"While helping people, of course."

"Of course."

Worm and his many constituents continued this line of conversation for a few more hours before deciding that they would start up a rival newspaper, which would knock this one filled with hatred out of the park. There would be nice conversations and stories about good deeds, and JubTheNub had potentially agreed to eat an entire kale in one sitting for all to watch.

"Call over KennyRusso and tell him that I require his journalistic talents. If anyone can get into the dirt, and muck, and shit, and pull out a gem, it would be that guy. Or he's demoted. Make sure he knows that last part."

"Yes, sir."

With that, the pre-plan to plan the newspaper committee had been formed, and in just a few democratic votes there would be nothing more to do than get the presses up and running. What could go wrong here, honestly? Nothing, that's what. Don't be negative. 

"There's just one question left, what should we call it?"

"Well that's easy, I'll call it..."

A Worm Welcome

The name was set and Kenny had been summoned, as well as JubTheNub, Nord, Tenkai, and the rest of those who, if the fates allowed, would be willing to help him with such a hefty prospect. Maybe even the Godfather Chairman FutureStealer would be willing to speak with the masses about his competitions and what was in store at a later date, could we possibly see more boxing on the horizon? The worm had been training his core for the chance to once again prove himself in the ring.

There were many possibilities and variations of what could happen, and the worm was sated for now. What was next would be up to the masses as it could be said that there is nothing more important than bureaucracy. 

"Get on the phones! Spread this far and wide, we're going to need a whole lot of help to manifest this dream of love and holding hands into a reality. I am going to prove that mobsters aren't all just brutes and that there's still a place for caring."

"What if no one agrees?"

"THEN WE MAKE THEM!"

His heart was in the right place, and that's all that mattered.

$75,000 per love lead

Oh, yeah. That was pretty important, too. Anyone that could bring to worm something that made his heart tingle with glee would be paid a little bit of cash as a thank you. It wouldn't be a lot, as he guessed that there would be thousands of people dying to have their stories of respectful conversations and kind moments heard; but if not then he would surely up the price to even more. That was all that could be done at this point and hopefully, this goes well.