Fenton was there for the opening speech but he had some errands to run so he had to take his leave. He wasn't even entirely sure if this was a competition, and if it was whether he was allowed to participate but it sounded interesting. Things fell into shape for him that day as he managed to get done with his jobs early and was able to head back down to see if anything of interest had happened. As he approached the crowd there were a few people talking, but one person stood out, he was telling a tale that Fenton was all too familiar with. That poor, sweet, innocent Drexler, was his great great grandfather. It was refreshing to know even to this day his tales and legacy live on.

“Excuse me, I heard you speaking of Godfather Drexler, I would like to recall another tale, of sinister yet comedic happenings, so if you wouldn’t mind”

He says with a slight hand wave to signal for the others to gather and listen closely.

“So it was a fine year, beautiful weather, and Valentine's day was fast approaching, a group had gotten together and come up with this wild idea, a state-wide BB gun war where anyone and everyone would be invited to join and it was just a good ol fashioned shoot out until there was one survivor, droves of people rallied to spread the news and as the day approached the majority of America had agreed to participate. Rules were simple when you’re hit you’re out.

This war raged on for a long ol time, all in good fun of course, there would be no fatalities, they were only BB’s, and headshots were agreed against.

There were plenty of prizes for all involved, the longer you survived the more you would win, make it into the top ten, we’re talking big bucks. Now, my great great grandfather Drexler was living his best life. He somehow managed to fight his way through many people, oh so many people, and he had made it into the top 10, the last of the masses, the cream of the crop.

Drexler was tired, he had been ducking dodging diving a dodging all day and he just wanted to call it and head home, but he wasn’t out of the game so couldn’t just leave. He pulled out his pistol and held it against his chest, called to the sky ‘It’s been fun!’ before pulling the trigger.

What good ol’ Drexlestiltskin didn’t prepare for was his own stupidity, he had been carrying his BB gun in his left holster and his actual gun in his right holster, long story short the poor fucker blew a hole through his chest, fast forward to a earthshattering scream as onlookers rushed to his aid. That was no BB. Fuck knows how that crazy bastard lived, must’ve been some devine intervention. I remember my father talking about how apparently for a short while Drexler was actually declared dead on the scene. Funny thing was he was back to his old self in no time.

That always made me chuckle, so I thought I would share my story. Also he once told me friendship runs thick through our ancestral bonds, so if anyone would like to make an anonymous donation please be my guest, god bless.”

Smirking and looking over his newspaper, he listened intently to yet another speech about yet another competition. This one, however, did catch his attention. "I do have a lot of stories," he thought. "You don't live to be nearly 500 without seeing some shit. I don't think I'll have to remember that far back for a good one though." He folds up his newspaper neatly, and puts it under one arm. Moving closer to where the man is speaking, he wipes the black ink residue from his hands.

"Oh you want a story, huh? What about that time when a bunch of rogues took over? The first time in modern history that something like this happened. My father played a small roll on the side of the rogues, and he told me some wild tales. This isn't your great granddad's story, this happened only a bit over a year ago.

It was a dark time in our world. I won't go into too much detail, but there was a great consensus that the leadership at the time had to go. No city was willing, or if they were willing, they were unable to act. A handful of men and women with no power or influence at the time took it upon themselves to rid our country of the filth, the darkness that blanketed our country. One by one, crew leaders and hands fell to their more skilful opponents. Not only did the rogues have the element of surprise, they had immense talent within their ranks. I was lucky enough to be in contact with and assist them. Watching them work was nothing short of art. But this story doesn't end there. No, it wasn't a quick war by any means. The sheer numbers involved on the regime side was massive. Once they managed to get organized, it turned into a war of attrition. For over a week, gunfire littered the streets of every city. Until finally, with everyone exhausted, the final bullet landed its mark, and it was over. The rogues had pulled off an impossible task. Many of them still alive to begin rebuilding our country.

Of course, this is only a summarized version of events. Unfortunately, I don't have the time to go into every nuance and detail. At least not today. Actually, I think there may have been a speech made after the war that went into detail. Perhaps city hall has some documentation of it for those looking for more information on this topic."

Wellerman hurried out to the streets. Between panting breaths Wellerman waved another notice from the Competition Commission. I have an urgent message from the Competition Commission. I came as quick as I could, then I headed here. 

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

May 26

Office of the Competition Commission

RE: In the matter of The Commission v. MrKuku

To Whom It May Concern:

The Competition Commission has voted to suspend MrKuku’s Competitive Competition License pending an investigation into allegations of illegally awarding prizes to non-entrant entrants.

The Competition Commission takes all allegations of impropriety very seriously. A special arbiter will soon be appointed to oversee the investigation and oversee any pending competitions being run by MrKuku.

Sincerely,

The Competition Commission

Now I don't want to alarm anyone, but this is quite alarming. Could our own Leader of the Streets be capable of such DIABOLITCAL actions? Anyone have any idea who this 'special arbiter' the Commission is appointing might be? 

Wellerman, I've started my own Competition Commission.

This is completely unacceptable MrKuku. The Competition Commission™ will see to your prompt removal and the complete and totally dissolvement of your SHAM commission. 

The Competition Commission hereby REVOKES MrKuku's licensing and bans him from hosting and competing in the Competitive Competition Circuit. 

I will be taking over as the host of this competition until further notice. Good luck to all the entrants.   

So, just to recap, MrKuku can’t pay his debts or pay for the competitions that he sponsored, so he went rouge.

Sounds just like his character.

MattCollins, come to Detroit and duel me?  Or continue to complain like a ol' fishwife, but one hawking museli from a giant pot you found.

LOSER

MattCollins the investigation is still pending, but I can confirm that the Competition Commission will honor the prizes of this competition and is committed to fair and safe competitions. 

Truly the darkest timeline for the Competitive Competition Circuit. We will also need to start the process of electing a new Leader of the Streets. 

I nominate Fenton. Any other suggestions? 

Yawn.

I don’t particularly care about your commission, Wellerman. I just put on a competition that had no involvement with the “commission” other than you winning second prize because it was earned. No one added to the prizes, no one else judged. That’s what a fair competition does. Kinda the opposite of MrKuku extending deadlines and starting new competitions without paying anything out. All the prizes for Writing Competition have been fully paid out. That’s something that has always been an issue with “commission regulated” competitions.

Mostly because it’s all bullshit.

But you already know that.

Very smart MattCollins. With the current schism and MrKuku on the loose it's probably best for your own safety to distance yourself from the Competition Commission until this all blows over. 

We'd never forgive ourselves if something happened to one of our most staunch supporters. 

Wellerman clears his throat and speaks loudly. 

I don't particularly care for your attitude SIR. I think it best we just end this conversation now before I get REALLY upset. 

Wellerman winks at MattCollins. 

Yea, your words are meaningless wellerman.

Best of luck out there.

Wellerman whispers to MattCollins as he leaves. 

Stay safe. The Competition Commission appreciates your continued faith and support. 

Wellerman raises his voice for other's to hear.

Yeah that's right you better leave! 

Wellerman, I'm interested in joining the Commission.  What's the best thing to do here? 

I like the cut of your jib ContestCommissioner. 

Meet me in my office and we'll have a conversation. I think I might have the perfect role for you. 

After another long day, Alucard decides its story time once again. The masses loved these little glimpses into the history of this thing of ours. He had hundreds. How was he going to tell just one? Could this be the start of a series of speeches? He thought for a moment. "Oh, I have a good one. One I haven't pondered in years. It's something that should not be lost to time." Again Alucard positions himself in the center of the crowd and speaks.

"Here's another one. Gather around kids. This one has a war, and a godfather retiring. This one took place many years ago. Some of you may have read about it in your great grandfather's journals, others your bloodlines are too young. This one certainly made an impact on me. Now pay attention because this gets interesting.

Depending on how long your family line has been in this life, you may remember the story of The_Dean. If you do, take my hand as we walk a bit down memory lane. If you don't, then get ready for a tale of triumph, stoicism, and perhaps betrayal, depending on who you ask.

First let me paint a bit of a picture. The_Dean was Godfather of New York at the time and he had a few auths under him. As the days and months passed by, each of his auths matured to the point where they themselves would be able to take on the role of Godfather in a city. Back then, the gods only allowed one Godfather per city. Wanting the best for his people, The_Dean went to war with the other cities in an attempt to free up each city for one of his auths. His plan was ultimately successful and each of his auths became Godfather except one. You see, there weren't enough cities for each of them to attain the highest rank among us. Did The_Dean sit upon his throne in New York as he did for so long? No, he retired to the old country so that his remaining auth was able to be all that he could be. He gave up everything to pass down power to the next generation, to his loyal subordinates. The ultimate sacrifice.

Some saw it as foolish. I saw it as noble. Whichever way you see it, peace didn't last for long. The newly crowned Godfathers turned on each other and we saw another war shortly after. This was, of course, out of The_Dean's control.

So what is the moral of this story? Does it have one? No good Dean goes unpunished?" He lets out a hearty laugh as the crowd groans.

Wellerman stepped out onto the streets wearing a large fur coat and expensive looking shoes. His large new wrist watch sparkled brightly in the sunlight. 

Entries have now closed for this Competition. The Competition Commission will assign judges to review the entries and winners will be announced shortly. 

Thank you for all your entries and please be patient with us while the judging takes place. Prizes will be distributed to any winners after the announcement has been made. 

Thanks again to the Competition Commission for taking over and running this competition. We'd all be lost without you. 

I'd like to register as a non-entrant please, Wellerman 

Very good JackMonroe. You entry for non-entrant entrance has been entered with the other non-entrant entries. 

Thank you for your non-participation. 

I don't know what is going on here, but it has a lot of traffic so I would just like to come inside to enter so to speak with my own story about how the Boss has opened up businesses in Philadelphia, Detroit, and Los Angeles. These are all very high-class establishments and they each sell their own special items that you'll have to go and check out if you want to! 

The first person to enter any of the three will be given a special surprise, so don't delay. I would recommend going to Give Me Money and getting your very own idea for only a slight premium, or perhaps you could step into the Philadelphia Business and buy yourself a nice five-dollar radio that has only seen minimal use.

Or you can head over to lovely Los Angeles and buy yourself a ream of paper! Really, the skies are the limit when you're buying from the Boss. So go get yours, NOW! What the fuck are you waiting for? 

Okay, thank you for your time. I hope this entry wins.