Finding himself standing outside Motor City's main HQ and shivering in the cold rain which seemed to be travelling sideways this evening, Jack wondered what the hell he was letting himself in for. 

Every bloody time he'd gotten here recently it was the same old story, another hoodlum who'd wronged the upper structure of the city who needed a lesson taught. And who had to foot the bill? Jack, that's who! And it was costing him a fortune.

Make this no good son of a bitch inactive son, was the regular story. We don't want the likes of him coming down here pissing on our business and passing cheap crap onto our punters. Waste the little shite! You know you want to... 

To be fair, there's only a certain amount of fun you can get from smacking inadequate fatherless hoodlums over the head with a lump of plumbing material, especially when it's costing you nearly half a million big ones from your own pocket every time. Things are just going to have to change, and fast! 

Maybe Jack can get an unsuspecting hoodlum off the street and take him under his wing, tell him it's his destiny... Yes, fucking great idea. Maybe all the shots of Blue Hills didn't do as much damage to his fading grey matter as his old Mama liked to make out. 

Reinvigorated by his first idea in a long while, UncleJack knocks on the pretentiously large carved oak door and waits for the usual half brained giant to breathe his halitosis into a wheezy grunt of mocked surprise.

Jack, you came! Didn't think you were going to make it this time and you know what you're gonna get when you don't make it on time! Bellowed the mountain of muscle.

The Boss wanted me, Jack countered without emotion, you gonna let me in?

No point letting these freaks get to you, at the end of the day if you drop one (yeah, likely story!) there'll be another half dozen just waiting to use your brains as window putty. 

Allowing himself to be guided towards the inner sanctum Jack wonders if he can really pull this off. After all it's not every day a young but ambitious mafiosa makes a request to his Boss....

Suddenly Jack finds himself standing outside a door decorated with green baize, fucking thing reminds him of a pool table to be honest. All it needs is a traingle tacked on to it to complete the picture..

Instead, a small electroplated rectangular plaque hangs centrally on the door. The last time that Jack was here it said something like No Peddlers, the time before it was Pikeys Only. Jack's pretty sure that the one before that said Hermaphrodites Only, but he's not too sure, he doesn't take a great deal of notice of them to be honest.

Today the message reads

Goat, free to a good home.

Bloody place is getting worse, Jack mutters under his breath. No doubt the poor thing's well passed it's best...

Entering the inner sanctum Jack is immediately summoned by the Boss.

Jack, I've got a job for you. There's a no good upstart hoodlum started moving in on our area.

Now I've been reasonable with the guy, even offered him a little work and told him we'd show him the ropes if he could pledge a little loyalty. Now you can't ask for fairer than that, the guys a mere civilian, just a wannabe gangster at the end of the day!

Anyway Jack, you know what that son of a bitch's response has been to the offer I sent him? You want to know? I'll tell you! Niente, nothing! Jack, I want you to sort it and I want you to sort it piu velocemente possibile, adesso!   

Well hey, there's never going to be an easy time to ask now is there? A guy's got do do what a guy.. well, you know what I mean.

You are my boss, you are my family. My blood is your blood. I live for you and will die for you.

I know the man you speak of sir, consider it done.

Jack relaxes into the high back and watches the smile spread across his boss's face.

Oh well, there's a time and a place for everything and who the hell is Jack to go making demands after all........

Pity this job is going to cost him so much though!