Now that the dust has settled and our world has become a more content and happy place, Tyler himself has reached out. The summer months are kicking in and Tyler wants to reproduce and at a massive rate. The only kick in the balls... he wants paying so he can have a good time.

To bring organised chaos and friendly bloodshed we need to fund the influx of durdens and we need YOUR help. In return you will have access to a new breed of durdens and also a limited edition map which will help you find his pesky family members. Sounds great doesn't it!

We shall share the cost between our great cities and make this era one of the greatest!

When Tyler's family bodyguards have been cleared he will introduce another 3000 family members to the world, please send your hard earned credits to me and let our world know you have contributed.

Tyler left a parting speech when Dixxon and BigRagaTheOppStoppa were about to leave 

'Man, I see in fight club the strongest and smartest men who've ever lived. I see all this potential, and I see squandering. God damn it, an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables; slaves with white collars'

While walking on the street Fanta comes across Nike who was making a speech. Intrigued by the gathered crowd and bored from having nothing to do all day Fanta approached the crowd and started to listen.

After hearing the speech Fanta realised it was not meant for him. There was some talk about reproduction which had pulled him into the conversation but the topic derailed faster than Fanta could say "nice". The topic of the speech went from reproducing to killing unemployed bodyguards who were only trying to make a living in this brutal economy.

And not just that, there was even a plan to bring 3000 more of these poor unemployed durdens in to our city just to shoot at them for sport. Disgusting, no it's worse than disgusting. it's ugly, it's inbred it's almost in line with the kind of thoughts UglyInbredGeorge would have. 

But nothing could be done, the plan was in motion and it was too late. After thinking for a while Fanta put his hand in his trench coat and pulled out a coin. He tossed it towards the hat on the ground and the coin landed right in the middle. *Clank* Then coin made a sound at it hit other coins gathered in the hat.

Fanta thought to himself,

Well, so what, if I can't hunt for gun, at least I can help other's have fun. Who knows maybe I will enjoy watching these mobsters running around chasing those durdens.

What a world we have here...

Nothing says we're all friendly like a good culling of the Durden gang!!  

Diffy cocks his water pistol and jumps into the foray of failing on BG's and protecting Durdens.

Eala had seen filth. Not just dirt, but the kind that stuck to your coat no matter how many times you turned it inside out. Alleyway slime. Stairwell mildew. Whatever George carried around in the lining of his jacket like a secret. But New York? That city didn’t just collect grime. It bred it. Deep, wet rot that settled into the cracks and made even honest pavement feel like it was keeping something from you.

And then came Nike.

She heard him once. Spoke like he’d swallowed a lawyer sideways. All his words rolled out too smooth, like he’d stolen them off a radio and forgot how they were meant to end. He had the sort of tone that came from saying “technically” too many times. Eala had known ravens with clearer intentions.

She remembered his name because of the trade deal. He was meant to transfer out to Detroit. A handshake, a promise. The official 12th Street Bathroom Cleaner a sacred position. But he hadn’t shown. Left the post empty and the toilets full. And now she knew why.

His new trick, some kind of collection for Durdens, had that smell. Like rotting oranges packed into a silk bag or HeadCoach after any sort of attempt at physical activity. It looked decent, if you didn’t read too close or ask questions. She’d seen it before.

Mastrosimone Mutual Fund. That ghost of a scheme. They had banners. Coins. Speeches about growth and opportunity. Eala remembered the launch. Cheering. Champagne. A clown juggling graphs. With time, it folded like wet cardboard, taking with it seventeen careers, three marriages, and a one-eyed nerd named Thomas.

This new thing of Nike’s was cut from the same cloth. Too fast. Too shiny. Too confident in how little it explained. The kind of thing that didn’t unravel it vanished.

She didn’t trust his blazer. She didn’t trust his jar. She didn’t trust his sudden concern for the community. Men like Nike talked about “moving forward” while helping themselves to your hard earned every 12 hour payday. 

If the Durdens showed up, Eala reckoned it’d be a miracle.

And if they did, it wouldn’t be because of Nike.

It’d be in spite of him.

Nike had returned from a busy evening with BigRagaTheOppStoppa whilst carrying out jobs for dixxon

It had been a successful one considering we were a man down, due to Spicoli having his ginger beard wipped off by the local barber. He had been complaining about a rash he had on his face for weeks, nobody knew what he had been doing of late but the rumour mill was in full force. Where was he actually putting his face or more to the point, what had been on his face.!?

Tyler on the other hand was getting happier by the day

You were transferred 25.00 credits from Dixxon. The note TheNewGuy donation 
You were transferred 5.00 credits from Eala
You were transferred 1.00 credits from TonyTheTailor
You were transferred 5.00 credits from @Roy_Provenzano
You were transferred 25.00 credits from Oblivion

Tyler had been back in contact about his payments and kept saying 'Just do it'

He was starting to get annoying and frisky with Spicoli stroking his ginger beard like it was something off an Irn Bru advert. As the music was blaring out around the street Tyler and LiamGallagher were singing @RocknRollStaaaaar on top of a beluga whale. TinyTim started getting his 'mic' out or that's what he calls it. That definitely isn't tiny at Twenty_Seven inches long according to Minaxi 

Tyler could the cord on the ghetto blaster and declared he had received 212 credits. It is a great start my good friends but we are still a bit off reaching the 500 target. Keep up the good work and invest into your future

You were transferred 5.00 credits from Interlude
You were transferred 40.00 credits from Shane_Stetson
You were transferred 10.00 credits from DarwinRoss
You were transferred 1.00 credits from TonyTheTailor
you were transferred 15.00 credits from Hush
You were transferred 5.00 credits from Soul_Hooligan

That "mic" is violating the Geneva Convention at Twenty_Seven inches. Minxai had to recalibrate her entire definition of reality after that visual assault. 

Alright, Alright! I've been out of town and shamefully broke after investing in Budknights new business in New York to expand on her events around town. 

Minaxi throws some paper at Nike then eyeballs Matt and BudKnight . Cough up.

After the recent news coming out of the streets that sleepy Joe was indeed funding the death of his close friend Spike with a steady £250 meeeeeeelion in a recent takedown, it became quite clear that amount of money would have also helped Tyler reproduce at a quicker rate. 

This riled Tyler himself who did some digging and after a short while he was in fact given 100% truthful information from a driver in Chicago that sleepy Joe was in fact sleeping in the same room as his super close ally at the time the transfer was made. Who had access to his accounts? 

Was it beluga or was it a double, did sleepy have Spikes double in his room? Ears were wagging but Tyler didn't care, he just wanted paying!

You were transferred 1.00 credits from TonyTheTailor.
You were transferred 5.00 credits from Matt
You were transferred 50.00 credits from Dixxon
You were transferred 3.00 credits from BudKnight
You were transferred 9.00 credits from Minaxi

280 collected - 220 to go

As another 7 credits had been knocked off the target, Tyler went away on holiday for some sunshiiiiiine and was singing away to himself 'Now that you're mine, we'll find a way, of chasing the sun let me be the one that shines with you, in the morning we don't know what to do.' He

looked around for some friendly faces but couldn't see anyone he knew so he pointed his gun at a local scrub but told him 'Don't Look Back in Anger' because I live my life for the stars that shine. And the things that I believe in. So Sally can wait, she knows it's too late as we're walking on by whilst slowly walking down the hall, faster than a cannonball.

With a few bodyguards still to be euthanised we were making steady progress to our 500 target....213 to go lets goooo 

You were transferred 1.00 credits from TonyTheTailor
You were transferred 1.00 credits from TonyTheTailor
You were transferred 5.00 credits from Rorschach

It has been a few days since Nike had been able to recover from a weekend on the booze. His head was still banging and his counting skills were barely up to scratch

You were transferred 5.00 credits from Matt
You were transferred 50.00 credits from DarwinRoss
You were transferred 5.00 credits from Indifference
You were transferred 1.00 credits from TonyTheTailor
You were transferred 2.00 credits from TonyTheTailor

150 to go. 'Just DO It'

On a lovely evening out on a troll in the city, while enjoying the weather and a burger Fanta comes across Nike. He was sitting in the same place as he was a week ago. Even longer. Still asking passerby's to contribute to his cause. He was doing a public service after all but he still hadn't met his quota.

Fanta was sad to see him like this. So he reached into his pocket to help the lad and give him the rest of the money he needed so that poor Nike could finally go home. To Fanta's horror his hand went right through his pocket. Someone had pickpocketed Fanta. At first he was mad and then angry and then mad again. But soon he realized he had already spent the last dime he had on the burger he was having. After the realization Fanta smirked and looked very pleased with himself.

Good thing I got this burger eh, he thought to himself.

Sorry Nike I can't help you today as well. Maybe next week if you're still here. Unless you want my burger? 

Without waiting for the answer Fanta sprints away.