An old man, dressed in a shabby looking grey suit covered in splotches of paint, had been anxiously walking around his also paint covered studio and office, smoking his cigarettes much more heavily than normal. He had been working on a painting to calm his nerves after such a long weekend.  The state of his studio was completely awful: he had neglected it from being so distracted; it was covered in papers, paint, several books, paintings, several strange letters that he had anonymously received about tentacles and skittles. Then there were the even weirder but pretty pathetic letters asking for a dollar for his death. That was truly a sad thing.  He really didn’t know what to make of that.  He took a drag on his cigarette, with his eyes crossing over the letters, his mind whirling.

He couldn’t believe half of the stuff that had happened in the past two days; it seemed like an awful, never ending nightmare.  His fearless leader Raptor had been gunned down and so he had been the one who had to pick up the pieces, having to ignore his tentacle addiction. He had specifically told him to not die: “Don’t die you sexy bitch, Raptor! Don’t die!” But did he listen?!  No, of course he didn’t, but that’s how things work.  One should never rule out the unexpected, but it was okay. Things had worked out in the end.  As he had been still pacing, he stopped to blurrily look at his cigarette, wondering how many packs of tobacco he had gone through as these days had been tough on him. He was too old for this shit! He patted his coat breast-pocket, as his cigarette was losing life.  “Shit,” he thought. He was once again running out of tobacco. He’d have to go back to the general store. He took a sip of his cold, forgotten coffee, grabbed his keys, and shut the rickety door to his studio.  As he walked to the general store, he realized that he still hadn’t announced to the world that he was going to take over for the lizard. Well, now is about as good fuckin’ time, as ever.

Monet cleared his throat, coughing slightly, a cigarette still being held between his fingers. He stepped onto a milk crate.

This is rather delayed, but that happens when you have to suddenly rise up to the occasion when an awful event like this has occurred, as I’m sure you’re all aware. First, I would like to say my sincerely sympathies to all of those that have fallen, including those who I was fighting against.  I have no desire to bash anyone of the past because the dead are dead.  Although their children are rising now among us, I don’t plan to hold that against them and I think that everyone should be granted a new beginning.  As this is a beginning of my own because unfortunately when that bullet smashed my dear crew leader Raptor in the face, the other fallen leader, SexyBeast, asked me to step up for him. And I agreed.

Now I stand before you to introduce The Foundation 3.0: The Impressionist Edition, as part of Chicago working under the new godfather JesseJames. I hope to work with him and PizzatheHut to rebuild Chicago and this country into, hopefully, a peaceful place for times to come.

Thank you all for your time.

Monet took a deep drag on his cigarette, eyeing the small crowd that had gathered. His bushy eyebrows knitted together, and his other hand stroked his beard in a moment of idleness. He shook his head, reminiscing of times past and stepped off of the milk crate to go find some tentacles

Tosses tentacles around in celebration.

Congrats Monet/Skits. Now your addiction will never go hungry, but you will have to bathe more.

Tosses more tentacles.

Apparition pulls out Raptor's old collar from her pocket & fights back the tears as she stares at the red stains long one side.

He would of been proud of you Monet... I look forward to working for you in achieving all we can in this great City.

Congrats Monet!
By taking over this family you would make Raptor proud.
I hope to see you make Chicago an even greater city.

Monsieur Monet! Monsieur Monet! Monsieur Monet!

A young high-pitched gangster pushes her way through the crowd gathering in the street.

Monsieur Monet..

Aizlynn leans forward resting her hands on her knees as she catches her breath. Finally gaining control of her heart rate and breathing she stands up and straightens out her dress.

Many congratulations Sir! My mother and grandmother spoke very highly of you and your bloodline and I'm glad I am here today to witness you going bold. I think I speak for many people when I say I am so incredibly proud of you and your achievements. I see good things in the future for you and Chicago and I know you will have great success. I wish you and your family all the best.

Remembering what her grandmother told her about the old man's fondness for tentacles Aizlynn reaches in her bag. Digging around for a moment she finds the handle of a plastic bag.. slowly she pulls out the wiggling bag and with a look of disgust she hands it to the man.

Clarity had just been shoved out of the way by a young lady who was quickly moving towards Monet. Shaking her head and smiling she could tell by the voice who it was. Listening to the girl congrats the man, Clarity then made her way forward also. She smiled at the gentleman before her and shook his hand. Although quickly realizing this was a bad idea as Monet's hands were extremely sticky from all the tentacles he had been holding onto.

Cringing a bit she made sure to keep her hand far from herself and her clothes. Her face tried not to seem too disgusted, but she was still showing a small dislike for the goo.

"Well, my friend. Our bloodlines have known each other for a while. You have always been someone I could count on and I know that this chance is beyond well deserved. Yet, even though you are going to be much busier now we will still have to have our occasionally gossip sessions in the local coffee shops!"

"I truly wish you more than luck. Your family will thrive with you at the lead, that I am sure of."

Clarity nodded and then let her hand lead the way. She quickly headed to a shop nearby to use their restroom. She was doing her best to wash her hand thoroughly.

*taps his glass*
 
"I would like to make a toast"  *Erractic raise his glass*


Congratulations Monet!!

I know in the few words we shared, that you will make a great leader.

You have and will continue to be an asset to Chicago, you've accomplishment so much, I wish you luck in this new role comrade.

*Erractic briefly kiss you on thee cheek*

[Applause]

Pratster pushes his way through the crowd and tries to make himself noticed

"Well we sure have had some memories Monet, we us specifically, and through reading my ancestors journals. Your bloodline always seemed to have some sort of mention. Mostly good, but there were some bad ones."

Pratster clears his throat before continuing

"Nonetheless, I am more than proud and pleased to see you taking your own family, much be it from the death of your Crewleader, you stepped up to the plate and have taken things head on, and for that I respect you."

Pratster smiles warmly

"Being a lowly Goomba my respect doesn't go very for or mean much, but I hope to one day reach the level you now have, and follow in yours and my ancestors footsteps"

Pratster salutes Monet

"Congratulations, boss!"

Jordan stood in the crowd watching many of Monet’s old friends approach him. As they shook hands with the new leader, congratulated him and offered their best wises Jordan waited her turn. A man walked away and Jordan quickly stepped forward to talk to Monet.

Our bloodlines don’t go way back, but I’ve heard a lot of good things about you. I look forward to working for you and with the other mobsters from the city of Chicago.

After just being asked to do some small time gig for a pal, Money was able to attend the address made by Monet.. "Congadulations Monet, I wish you well in the future and am happy to be standing here today." He shook his hand and gracefully strolled off to the car where he was soon to make a withdrawal from the bank.

I have to echo the sentiments of my friend Money, Monet. I can't help but think this will only lead to great things for not only Monet but Money as well. It seems to me the team of Money and Monet is indeed dominant. So I raise a glass and toast, along with Money, to Monet!

And The Foundation keeps rolling on. Great to see a promote from within policy from The Foundation. Always having someone inline to take the reigns if something happens. Good luck to all!

Behind his more famous paintings of water lilies and the houses of parliament lied something which most people thought was an amazingly disturbing piece of art, But the truth was that it held a much darker secret. From the outside it looked like a deformed embryo which has been placed in embalming fluid to preserve it, Maybe a statement of god's imperfection? no one knew, apart from Monet. The embryo, although remaining motionless, was alive. communicating through telekinesis, he spoke to his creator. "You will thrive here, there is so much opportunity for you to get Chicago to the top. You will be able to nurture the great talents that Chicago has into some of the greatest mobsters we have seen. And of course, when I am grown, I will be yours to serve demands and help your rise to greatness." The sound of cell in Monet's head grew quieter, He was resting.

Another worthy successor to The Foundation name. Congratulations on your shiny new suit! I hope you don't spill too much calamari on this one. It's me who has to keep all the receipts from the Dry Cleaners, afterall.

Monet, while the reason for you taking charge of the family was not the most ideal. You are most definitely a worthy successor to lead us. But don't for one second think now is the time you can retire to your rooms to paint. This family has evolved over time, it has it's roots in The Morningwood Elite and has evolved into The Foundation. The boots you have to fill are big but I'm sure ot's a task your more than capable.

It was only a matter of time before our Monet was handed this opportunity. I look forward to seeing your family prosper as i am sure it will.

Good luck and best wishes Monet.

Somewhere in the back of the crowd, Lola listens to Monet's words and smiles to herself, proud to hear of such commitment to Chicago. She waits patiently until the crowd dissipates somewhat before approaching Monet with a few words of her own.

Sir, it is an honour to have come to this great city to serve our Godfather JesseJames and the families of Chicago. I'm a fresh face, with little or no lineage behind me, but I'm here to serve and already consider myself to be rooted deeply here. I'd like to extend my gravest sympathies for the fallen alongside you, and to you I offer my very best wishes in your endeavours with The Foundation.

I look forward to seeing our city thrive and rise to it's rightful place, and more so I look forward to playing my part, howsoever I can, in achieving all that we are able to.

It is entirely my pleasure to have met you, Sir. 

Lola bows her head gently and offers her hand to Monet, shaking it briefly but sincerely, and then turns away, knowing full well that there is much work to be done.

Hopefully, like always chicago will rise from the ashes stranger than ever.

Strange? You've certainly got a few strange ones in Chicago. The stories SpikeSpiegel has told me about Monet could blow your socks off. Then you'd have to get new socks. It's all bloody inconvenient really. More damned laundry. And laundries aren't exactly popular in these parts right now.

Congratulations on your new enterprise, may i wish you the best of luck attempting to rebuild a city and housing those in need.  Is never easy attempting to step into someones shoes especially in a volatile time.