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Keenos bundles onto the streets, pulling out an old journal and sits down.
Ladies and gentleman, children of the streets, grab your milk and cookies, its time for a story with Uncle Keenos. Firstly, which lucky little one is going to sit on my lap whilst I read? No one? OK, will if anyone wants to, feel free to come. Even if it is halfway through. Do not be shy.
Keenos opens the journal and starts to read.
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It had been a long week in the Mafia world. The Roman Empire had been toppled. In New York, the concrete jungle where dreams were made of, the streets felt brand new. the big lights were inspiring everyone. If felt like a new start. Mafioso were running around with new enthusiasm. It felt like this was a new beginning. Except for young Keenos. He was puzzled. He was confused. he was baffled.
Earlier in the day, Keenos had been going about his business in private. Robbing the odd old lady of her purse. knocking over every other post office. Even partaking in a bit of illegal substance distribution. It had been a had day. Blood, sweat and beers had been spilt. Now was time to reap the rewards. He sat in his one bedroom flat. Alone with nothing to keep him company bar his thoughts about the big bang theory and how his dad met his mother, and a bottle of cheap whiskey. Picking up his trousers from the floor he shook them out to see that days takings.
A hankie, chewing gum, gun, note pad of days takings and pen dropped up. But nothing else. No Loose change. No dirty money. Nothing. Keenos was an angry man. An angry confused man. Running out into the streets in just his stained y-fronts and wife beater vest, he screamed out.
'Whoever has stolen me money had better show up now otherwise there will be hell to pay.' sitting on the stoop, he waited...
A few minutes passed and Keenos was just about to give up when all of a sudden, out of nowhere, a little ginger boy sat down next to him.
'Sir, I heard your scream. I am hear to help'
Keenos pulled his gun out of his y-fronts and stuck it down the young boys throat.
'Tell me everything you know, otherwise I will empty my load into your mouth.'
The young boy started to whimper, and, barely able to speak, mumbled 'It is Barry...Barry Topper. He has turned evil'
Confused and dumbfounded for the first time in his life, Keenos removed his gun from the young ginger boys mouth, dried it on a handkerchief and returned it to his y-fronts. 'So tell me what you know' Keenos asked.
'Well, it all happened shortly after the fall of the Roman Empire. With Godfather Roman slain, there was a power surge. Everyone tried to grab their little bit. And good wizard Barry changed. He was now uber powerful. And with great power, came great responsibility. But rather then use this insecure time for good magic, he turned evil He cast a spell on all of Mafia Returns that meant that when they committed a heinous crime, they would no longer get the money. Rather then the money going into their pockets. to be spent on more drugs. to be tributed. It would now be magicked away.'
The rain started to fall, so Keenos stood up and motioned the young ginger boy into his house to continue telling his story...
A few hours later, Keenos was alone again. Trying to decide what to do. The young ginger boy, who's name was John Measley, had fully explained the story. How Barry went evil. How it was discovered that he had manipulated everyone into slaying Boldeport, and taking control of the magical kingdom and killed sexy Germaine Ranger after she had rejected his advances. Upon others finally discovering this, and the magical kingdom starting to rise above this, he decide to unleash his fury on the Mafia Returns world. The spell involved making money disappear for no apparent reason and depositing in an unknown laundrettes in each and every city, which the people of Mafia Returns would then have to find to reclaim there money. Barry Topper had been smart about it. Rather then buying up real-estate and implementing his great plan. He put another spell on all of the rarely used city banks, turning them into laundrettes.
Keenos knew what he had to do to remove the spell. He had to find Barry. and his first step in finding Barry was to find the laundrette's, starting in Chicago...
Walking up to what used to be the Chicago City Bank, Keenos looked up notice the new sign 'Chicago Laundrette.' Wandering in, he had to squint his eyes due to the brightness of the lights. A loud rumbling sound of washing machines and a smell of cheap fabric softener was in the air. Confused, he noticed Chuckle in his Spideman PJ's running about. Shouting at him was Chuckles_Mum, in her LBD and oven gloves. Today was laundry day for The Barbarian Horde. Keenos pulled his hat down so as to not be recognised by his boss. Oh what trouble he would be in if Chuckle knew he was out at this time of night. Looking at Chuckles_Mum's behind, he thought 'I would.' turning round, he caught the eye of another Chicago Mafioso, Gordon_Zola, who nodded at him and mouthed 'a solid eight.'
Noticing a little man in the corner guarding a door, Keenos marched over.
'I demand to see the laundry man!' He demanded.
'And who might you be?' the little man said in a surprisingly deep voice
'I am Keenos, a member of The Barbarian Horde' Keenos bellowed, trying to depen his voice 'I am here to reclaim my money.'
As he spoke, the door, if by magic, swung open and Keenos walked in...
The room was pitch black. There was a soft breeze going through the room, but no windows open. The noise and light of the laundrette seemed a mile away, not just a wall away. Trying to take a grasp of his surroundings and to protect himself against unseen enemies, Keenos went for his gun.
'Leave it' a voice said from the corner. 'Take 3 steps forward and bend over. You will walk into a briefcase. Your money is in there. Take it and leave.'
Keenos took 3 steps forward, stubbing his toe in the process 'Shit, fuck, bollocks' he screamed.
'LANGUAGE!' Came the mysterious voice. 'Just because we are separated by a different plane, it doesn't give you the excuse to act in ways that are not acceptable. Please refrain from using that foul language'
Scared and worried, Keenos bent over, felt for the briefcase, picked it up and turned round. As if by magic, a light appeared. following this light, he found himself back in the laundrette. The little man standing infront of him.
'Got with you came for?' He asked 'Now do one!' without waiting for an answer...
Keenos was sitting back at his kitchen table. Back in his y-fronts and boxers, briefcase infront of him. It was time to finally count his spoils for that day. Emptying the contents of the briefcase onto the table, he noticed one thing. The money had been changed. It was no longer the dirty, crumpled money that he had taken from old ladies or exchanged for drugs, it was clean, new, unmarked bills. Counting the money, he compared it to his note pad. something was not right. He was short. After another 3 recounts, all resulting in the same number, he put his sixth grade thinking cap on.
1%
One fucking percent
Why was he missing exactly ONE PERCENT
At that same moment, a noise came from the cupboard under his stairs. Opening, he heard whispering a laughing. He recognised one of the voices as the sound of John Measley.
'What!' He screamed, firing a few shots into the cupboard.
'The Laundry Men's Union leaders demanded that if they were to help Barry with his plan, they would have to get paid. They agreed that they could skim 1% of every dollar you earned.' Angry, confused and dumbfounded for the 2nd time tonight, Keenos slammed the cupboard door shut and sat back down at his table. Now, not only did he have to go to every laundrette in every city to reclaim his new clean money, he had the pleasure of losing 1% for the inconvenience. He had to go for a walk to clear his head...
Walking through the dark streets of Chicago, trying to work out a solution to fix this and remove the evil spell from Mafia Returns, a thought came into his head. The only way he could fix it was to rank up and do something about it.
Returning to his flat, he picked up his jacked and gun.
The Hunt For Barry Topper begins... |
