Scott-Weiland was going about his daily duties, much the same as he always had, but for some reason he kept thinking back to that warm liquid known as vodka. It had always been his vice, sure he'd tried to quit a few times, but does anyone ever truly quit? Alas, he was about finished with his duties for the day, just had to make a pick up for some owed money. "I can get a drink prior to that, no problem" he thought to himself as he drove back to the headquarters in Detroit. He pulled up into the large circular drive, parked his car and walked in to the headquarters. Not wishing to be disturbed, he went straight down the stairs to the basement, man he really needed a drink.

Upon entering he called to the bartender "Hey barkeep, vodka on the rocks." He gazed around the room and spotted his associate Joey_Bag_o_Donuts sitting at a table, so he joins him. Although he had been clean for nearly 7 years, he couldn't help but notice the bag of white gold, pure cocaine sitting right in front of him. Joey turned to him and asked if he would like a line. Who was he to refuse it? So, he fell right back into his bad habit, and took a large line. Shaking his head he turned to Joey, "That's some quality stuff you have there." Around this time, the barkeep had finally delivered his drink. He basically inhaled it and ordered another, "You know what barkeep, just keep them coming." He continued drinking; he had always had a problem with moderation. Suddenly, he remembered the duty that had been assigned to him earlier, turning to Joey; he asked "Would you like to grab a couple of the guys and go out for a night on the town? There is always something to do in Detroit. Little did he know, it was just the beginning of a long night. Man he shouldn't have gotten so drunk.

Joey nodded and stood up from the bar with a grin on his face, this would be the first time he would get to see real action since his days back in Venice. This was truly an offer he couldn't refuse. He placed his bag of powder back inside his coat pocket "Whatever you got planned, I'm in, Scottie. Lets go find a couple of good guys, we'll take my car." Joey stepped over to the hat rack and put his on before walking out the door with Scottie. "And here I was starting to think everyone in Detroit were a bunch of stiffs in suits." Joey joked as they walked over to his car. "So, ah, what's the plan, Scottie?" Joey asked while he moved a couple of packs of dope off the passenger seat to accomadate Scottie.

Scottie sits down in the car and relaxes back. Nobody knows how to make a car like Detroit. Scottie stretches out and rubs his face thinking.

Let's start off down at the old hangout. We're going to need more people to pull this off. We'll start there, and do you know of anywhere else we could find some good men?

Scottie reaches into his jacket and pulls out a flask, taking a large swig and offering it to Joey. He reaches in his other jacket pocket, and pulls out a cigarette, lighting it and inhaling before pulling his hat down a little and relaxing for the ride.

Joey took a small swig from the flask before returning it to Scottie, then thought for a moment.

"Not really. I mean, there's an old bum who I kinda know, but I doubt hed be much help if it's muscle we're looking for. Let's just hit the hangout and pull some of the guys from there."

Joey pressed his foot on the gas pedal and the two drove off into the night, unsuspecting of anything to come from the forcoming events.

It was a dark stormy night outside in Detroit. Footsteps could be heard from every direction, as if they were searching for something or someone. Shadows enveloped the city like an eclipse. The man made his move, a full sprint into an empty building window breaking the glass as he jumped through, to hide from the situation in the streets. Standing back up he brushed himself off from the debris he had created and went over to the window to peak out into the night. Not a person in sight, he glanced over his surroundings and noticed a nearby dresser. The room must have been someone's bedroom at one time. He changed his attire for a more suitable camouflage. Carefully checking the environment once again to make sure nobody was heading in his direction he flew through the streets, sticking to the shadows. His destination was the cementery and he would not stop until he reached his checkpoint. It was going to be a long night for Russian. After a couple of minutes he could see the cementery just barely out of reach from his grasp. He went into the church just beside of it. He went through the double doors and slammed them shut to make sure there was a minimum chance he could get caught. Turning around after closing the doors he noticed some pews. He ran past all the pews and turned right when he reached the altar. He came to the side door that would lead him to the foggy cementery. Taking his right hand he turned the knob ever so gently and opened the threshold and stepped into the unknown. He opened up his journal to read exactly what he was looking for and looked back up to peer into the distance to find the tombstone that so interested him.

Noticing just out of the corner of his eye he reluctantly made his way over the sacred soil to the tombstone. He knelt down and bowed his head and closed his eyes to say a few prayers to honor the dead. It was almost as if he felt the pain this individual went through during his lifetime.

"Dear Lord please watch over my grandfather as he is with you now. I hope that one day, I can be half as great as my ancestor was during his lifetime here. Grant me the strength to thrive over all this evil in this world and courage to overcome my fears. One day, I too will join my grandfather in the heavens. Until that day let me write my own story. In your name I pray, Amen."

Standing back up he glanced at the tombstone and saw a hat his grandfather always wore. He took it and looked at the back as it read "Property of Technical". He placed the hat on his head, and then pulled out a white rose from his jacket and stuck in the ground next to lump in the ground where the casket was buried. He walked outside the cementery gate ready to face anything that should stand in his way. He pulled out his pistol and shot into the air and went off to a bar his grandfather had told him about when he was a young man.

When Russian got to the said bar he was told about in the stories, he straightened his jacket and went inside and could see that it was the Bandito Bar. He then knew he was at the correct location and ran inside to learn of all the people his grandfather had talked about. Not knowing all the faces when he made his entrance he calmed down a little and made his way to the bartender. He placed a dollar in front of the bartender and said.

"I will take vodka on the rocks please. I don't have much so I hope this will do."

After the bartender fetched his Vodka he took his hat off and placed it on the left side of the stool and sat down. He drank the shot and placed it face down on the table and turned around looking at all the faces in the bar.

Russian was a blonde male in his twenties, he stood at six foot tall dressed in mostly black. His hair was long, in fact in came down to his shoulders. He reached into his jacket to pull out his pack of cigarettes and placed one in his mouth. He put his pack back in his jacket and pulled out his lighter. He lit the flame and covered it with his right hand and he leaned in to light his cigarette. He puffed a little and let out some smoke to get the cherry of the cigarette started. He took another longer puff and inhale this time to get a good first hit. He put the lighter on the table and kept smoking his cigarette. Scott-Weiland saw him smoking his cigarette and ushered him to the car to explore the streets. He grabbed his hat and followed suit going along for the ride.

Admiral walks up too Scott with a big stack of pictures.

'Glad you had a great night, only next time...'

'Don't piss on my fucking car!!' Admiral yells.

Admiral pulls out a picture and shows scott how he violates his new car.

'Believe me, this is just one of more events...don't you remember anything of last night!?'

Scott-Weiland looked around the old worn down neighborhood, yeah this was the place alright. Sure the folks in this area were mostly hoodlums, but they were cheap and effective. He turned to Joey and signaled for him to stop the car. Joey looked over at him with a puzzled look, but nonetheless pulled the car over into some gravel. Scott-Weiland turned back to Russian,

"Russian, you come with me, Joey, keep the car running and be ready to gun it in case something goes wrong out here. Never can be too careful."

Scott-Weiland lit another cigarette and took a long draw. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his trusty flask, after taking a long swig he turns to offer it to Russian,

"Here, it's chilled vodka. Take the edge off a little before we get started."

Hearing his name he could not think of anything but to follow Scott-Weiland. He got out of the car and turned to Joey_Bag_o_Donuts gave him a simple nod letting him know he was thankful for the ride even though he was clueless as to the location they were at. Catching up with Scott-Weiland he watched him pull out a silver flask. As soon as he opened the flask the smell of Vodka filled the air. Russian's eyes opened as the smell alone gave him a desire for the liquid. It was handed his way offered to drink from it. Russian quickly grabbed the container and got a two second refreshment before having to pull away from the burn. He wiped his mouth and gave the flask back to the owner.

"What is the plan, sir? I know you would not drag me out here and tell me of an adventure only to drink some Vodka. Is there anything you need me to do?"

Russian looked at the watch it was twelve thirty in the morning. He gave his surrounding a short glance looking for anything to alert him of danger. Nothing in sight so he gave his attention back to Scott-Weiland. Russian never really was out this late so he did not know what to expect. Putting all his trust in his guide for the night what did he have to lose? He began to think what he would do if something arose that caused a situation where his friend might need him. Would he run, hide or back his friend up.

"If we are going to find a hooker you might as well count me out. I'm not here to get laid, I can do that during the day."

Pulling out some gloves from his black leather jacket he slide them both on. He took his gun out and checked for bullets and making sure the safety was turned in the off direction. He cocked the gun back to put one in the chamber ready to go. Putting the safety back on he stored the gun behind his back hidden by the coat but tucked inbetween him and his pants.

"Hopefully I won't be needing this but just in case I would rather be prepared."

He awaited to hear Scott-Weiland's big plan for the night.

Joey nodded and pulled the package of cocaine out of his pocket. "Scottie, you're too drunk. Take a hit of coke to wake ya up. You want some of this stuff, too, Russian?" He offered the bag to the two of them and also waited for Scottie to explain the plans that Scottie had.

Scott-Weiland returns the flask to his jacket pocket, and grabs some of the coke from Joey, laying it out on the hood. He sets it up just right, and takes a large hit. Then he passes it over towards Russian.

That's good, now I can think a little clearer. Not here for hookers Russian, not tonight. There are some guys over in Auburn Hills that owes the family some money. We're here to get some guys to help us out. Making things a little more complicated, they don't know they're going to be helping us yet. I'm not sure how they are going to react. Me and you are going to have to try to negotiate them to our cause. Joey, I need you to be ready to drive, quickly, in case things turn bad here. If they don't wish to cooperate, we'll be basically on our own. Russian, be ready to draw quickly. We may have to fire our way out of here. Last time I was here, things didn't work out too well.

Scott-Weiland pulls his gun out of the holster and tosses the holster back into the car, then he turns the chamber and makes sure it's fully loaded. Cocking it and making sure it was ready to fire, he puts the safety on and tucks the gun between his pants and jacket, roughly in the same area of his holster. "Don't want to mess up my timing too bad should the need arise," he thought to himself. Nodding to Joey and motioning to Russian, he begins to walk towards the abandoned warehouse in the middle of the old neighborhood.