As I was strolling though the streets of Detroit, I noticed that there was a flurry of activity in the downtown markets. I just needed to pick up a few things for dinner, and all I saw was folks running around in haste. A few gunshots filled the air.

"Another avocado!", someone shouted. "Quick, come get this avocado boss!"

My lucky day I thought, there must be a sale on avocados!

Unfortunately all the avocados were still at 5 cents a piece, but lucky me, I came out ahead on the shopping trip. I picked up quite a few wallets from the gangsters sleeping in the alleys.

Vittorio squeezed the avocado gently as he weighed it in his hand. "Nice and supple," he muttered before the air at the local fruit stand in Detroit erupted with a loud CRACK. Warm, wet crimson covered the left lapel of his hand-tailored Italian suit. 

"Che cazzo," he said as he ruined his best handkerchief trying to rid himself of an unwanted stain. He tossed the now overly-squeezed fruit down on the head of the now-dead Durden at his feet. 

"Careful where you aim those things!" He yelled out before taking off his suit jacket and grabbing the towel hanging on the stunned proprietor of the stand's shoulder. He then went to work and scrubbed that jacket clean with precision. Once satisfied he slipped his suit jacket back on and grabbed a few avocados for free in the murderous confusion.

The Don then began to walk off down the street with filled pockets. As he turned the next corner he nearly ran into the reason for his business trip. Another loud Crack rang out as a flash of light danced across the brick. Innocent civilians ran from that direction as more people began to scurry away from another sidewalk splattered with fresh guacamole. They were going to need chips at this rate.