Shedao stalked slowly through the silent halls of his headquarters. He had just gotten back from the assignment that had been given to him and he did NOT want to have to deliver the bad news. He had thought it was going to be an easy assignment, but he had underestimated those he had been sent to deal with. After all, who in their right mind would turn down his offered "protection" services?

Apparently, the Good Humors Ice Cream Company. They had recently expanded their operation into Chicago and he had been sent to explain the way things worked to them. His offer had been rebuffed. Turned Down. Refused. Declined. Rejected. Now he had to inform the man who had given him the assignment in the first place. The only thing he had to look forward to was showing those ice cream men just why their decision had been the wrong one. One of their trucks had recently been assigned to his neighborhood and that jingle was starting to drive him nuts.

He knew a few favors he could call in for this, but things would work so much better if he could get "official" help with his reprisal. Putting a hit squad together was always a chore, you had to find people who could hit what they aimed at and knew how to keep their mouths shut. You'd be surprised how hard it was finding people who could shut the fuck up. But that wasn't the end of the matter, oh no. The drivers weren't the targets, the trucks were. And what better way to take out an ice cream truck then to blow it the hell up?

Arriving at his destination, Shedao knocked and waited for permission before entering. He had news to give and plans to make. After that, some calls were going to have be made and people chosen. This was not going to be the end of it; revenge, after all, was a dish best served cold.

Magnolia slipped her right white gloved hand smoothly into Good Humors Ice Cream Company President's hand and smiled, her pearly whites sealing the deal as they shook to introduce.

It's just such a pleasure Mr. Humor that y'all could make some time for me.

She took a seat in the chair behind her. A large oak desk separated her from the ice cream company's owner. Who was a very large man who sat in a very large chair across from her. It was quite fitting, Magnolia thought to herself, that the owner of Chicago's newest cold treat company was plump and jolly. Settling into the chair, she smoothed her yellow dress over her knees and smile once again.

"Oh Miss Hughes, please, call me Roger."

Magnolia watched his eyes roam across her, but she kept smiling just like her mamma taught her to do when undeserving eyes took in more than their share. She was here on business and she'd survive the wandering eyes.

Well that's mighty fine of you Mr. Humor, oh I mean, Roger.

She crossed her left leg over her right and reached around to the little daffodil colored purse, that just so happened to perfectly match the color of her dress, to pull out a the cutest tiny notebook, with a matching yellow cover. Now, Magnolia did realize it was winter, in Chicago none the less, but she liked to keep the summer spirit alive.

Shall we get down to business?

Magnolia pulled out a yellow pen as well, it wrote in black of course.

"Miss Hughes I've seem to forgotten what paper you said you were from, would you mind telling me again? I'm sure you told me it's just that you don't look like a reporter. Your beauty is distracting to say the least. For the books of course, you know how those things work."

Oh, of course for the books, how bold this man thought he could be. Magnolia internally rolled her eyes. She had heard about the fuss this company was causing, trying to swoop in on Chicago like a vulture on a squirrel. Guess they didn't realize the crime bosses of Chicago were not dead possums. These no 'count Yankees trying to get slippery with her. She quickly changed the subject by scribbling on her note pad.

Well gosh, it's seems my pen has run out of ink. Roger, would you mind if I borrowed one of yours? Then we'll be as fit as a fiddle to get this interview underway and I can let you in on how my grandmomma fixes her award winnin' apple pie. Maybe you could even be dedicatin' it to a new flavor of yours.

She smiled as the pen was passed to her, Roger was quick to forget the question he asked to help a damsel in distress.

First question, what's the secret to your success? Is it that you have the sweetest of all ice cream flavors in the Midwest, or are the rumors true, that that jingle of your ice cream trucks mesmerizes people into wantin' a taste?

Magnolia didn't even skip a beat.

Speakin' of the jingle of those bells, would it be possible if I could get one for myself? And of course a route map of all your trucks so I can always be findin' my way to a sweet treat.