Whitey rolled through Queens with his usual entourage early Wednesday morning doing his usual rounds, a cigarette hanging out his mouth as he drove around. It seemed like a normal day but he noticed the streets were a little more active than normal… The drug dealers he normally did business with avoided his stare.

Whitey looked to his associates and shook his head, what was going on? Whitey was going to get to the bottom of it…

Rolling down the main street of Queens Whitey noticed a previously abandoned building now had many men inside, and newly purchased fortifications all around the perimeter. Suddenly Whitey’s car was riddled with bullets, one of his bodyguards caught a bullet in the leg.

Whitey threw his cigarette to the ground and withdrew his pistol firing blindly into the crowd of assailants, killing a few and driving off.

Ducking in a nearby diner Whitey got on the phone with Phil_Steak, this was a serious problem.

‘Hey boss, we gotta problem…’ Whitey said in a nervous tone

‘What is it? Can’t you just take care of it? I haven’t got time for-“Bullets erupted in the background and enemies had damaged the fortifications of the Brooklyn HQ…

‘Believe me now? We have a fuckin problem over here in Queens. ..’  

‘Find out who the fuck these pricks are, they’re awful shots but we need to take care of it regardless’

Whitey hung up the phone and rounded up some of New York’s best, and drove over to Staten Island to see Alexander.

‘Hey bud, how’s things here?’ Whitey said, trying to hide his nervousness

‘Not bad, we’ve had a few attacks but they are really… unimpressive.’ Alexander stated coolly

‘Well let’s wipe them out quickly, I don’t wanna take any chances with this shit.’

Whitey shook hands with Alexander and he rounded up some of his best along with his own gun. Rolling down the street to Queens Phil_Steak sped down the road behind them, seeming angry about this new threat…

Arriving at the Lucania HQ 20 of New York’s best men bust through the door shooting an army of bodyguards, searching the dead for any men of significance, Phil_Steak burst out of the back office holding a Made Man by the collar and putting him on his knees.

‘Why are you here?!’ Shouted The Godfather

‘I've sat by idle and watched. I've watched you greedy fucks consume cities, and churn out criminals like a goddamn meat grinder. Your drugs, your violence, your whole criminal empire has gone too far.

You may have got a foothold in certain parts of my city however, but now you want even more? Fuck you, we aren't just rolling over. You will have to take it by force. With the last breath of the last man, we will continue to defend our homelands to keep them pure of your devious kind.’ The Made Man spoke as if from some sort of memorized script.

Phil_Steak shook his head and with a look of disgust pulled the trigger.

Whitey and Phil_Steak spoke off to the side, looking around at the carnage and heard wheels squealing outside. Quickly they both ran outside to see dozens of cars full of bodyguards speeding away as fast as possible, fearful that they would meet the same fate as their late boss… Whitey and Phil_Steak both looked at eachother and smiled – like they knew what the other was thinking.

Phil and Whitey brought Alexander out back and told him what they saw, he smiled as well and nodded.

Whitey went back in to the room and got the attention of all the buttonmen he had brought along

‘Alright folks, here’s what we’re gonna do…‘ The room grew quiet

‘We’re gonna show these lads that Queens belongs to the YAOWA Army!’ The whole room cheered

‘But, a lot of you know how hard it is to come by thing… well, people, to practice on. You can only learn so much in the Gun Range right?’ The room looked around at eachother in agreement.

‘So, we’ve all decided, We’re gonna take our sweet time with these folks. Ya see, they’re just batshit insane. They’re willin to die just to stand against us… But their hired protection? Not so much. We’re gonna clean out all those fellas nice and quietly so we don’t spook the rest.’ Many of the men were confused but knew that their leaders knew what they were talking about

‘Ladies and Gents, this is gonna be fun.’ Whitey smiled and gave a sly little wink to his hitters as they followed him out the back door.

Nightfall came and Whitey got that same glint in his eye, like every time he was about to kill. Standing next to his car, he lit a long, fat cigar signaling to the rest of the crew that he was just about ready to go. Whitey sat in the drivers seat, playing with his gun, inspecting it as he always did.

Men piled in the car filling all the seats as they took off for their night of killing.

Alright boys, we got our marching orders, now we get to learn a thing or two. Now, I’m gonna pull up on these snappaheads and you boys are gonna open fire… And we’re gonna keep on this all night til there aint a single god damn one of em left, got it?

Whitey’s sick grin began to widen as he saw a gang of  15 or 20 men hanging around a corner, all hired protection. He shut his lights off as soon as he saw them and slowed down… As soon as he got within firing distance he whispered ‘Go!’ and every man in the car including himself opened fire, killing all of them.

Whitey let out an unsettling cackle and sped off, turning his lights back on and puffing his cigar – there was nothing he loved more than night like this.

Again and again Whitey and his riflemen ambushed unsuspecting bodyguards, their skills improving markedly with each confrontation – Millions of dollars worth of gunplay training accomplished for free in a night.

Morning came, Whitey – whom was obviously blood drunk- dropped off the men at their respective HQ’s to notice minimal damage and more happy hunting parties returning home from a long night.. All was well in New York.

Whitey parked his car at the HQ and began walking to his apartment a few blocks away, suddenly thoug, a Don from Queens popped out from behind a car and many shots rang out. Whitey laughed so loudly at the man’s pathetic attempts that he heard him, as Whitey drew his gun he ran off as fast as he could in the opposite direction, this tickled Whitey even more and he stopped for a moment and bended over, unable to control his laughter. 

After his fit of laughter had ended he looked back to see if the man had hit anything, his bodyguards grinning and patting one of their colleagues on the back, this one man had been barely grazed on the shoulder, nothing a fistful of crisp greenbacks couldn’t fix.

Whitey arrived home and flopped on the couch and flipped on the radio, allowing a few of his bodyguards to sit in the kitchen, smoke cigarettes and listen with to the radio with him. Then, the door was kicked in. That same asshole from an hour earlier, red in the face and angry, shot one of his bodyguards straight in the chest, then sped off in his car. Whitey had some men rush the bodyguard to the hospital and shook it off as nothing… He’ll meet his maker soon enough anyway.

In the middle of his nap… Whitey’s phone rang. Startled awake, Whitey answered agitatedly, it was Phil_Steak saying that a man had just burst in to his home and wounded one of his hired men as well. Whitey’s eyes widened… Maybe they were finally tired of being toyed with, they wanted to finish this, or more appropriately – be finished.

‘I’ll be right over’ Whitey bellowed hoarsely into the receiver

Whitey arrived at the HQ and started to phone Alexander and told him to get his enforcers and buttonmen over here with him as well – Things needed to be ended. While on the phone Alexander had similar reports of his and his men’s bodyguards being more fiercely attacked, some even dying…

Whitey started driving around with just one other man in the passenger seat… Some of the more seasoned buttonemen road with Whitey waiting for his go to take out their target.

‘Wait for it…’ Whitey whispered

‘NOW!’ Whitey screamed and push the pedal to the floor, as his man fired a single shot to the Capo’s head, through dozens of bodyguards

‘Nice Shot, you made quick work of that one.’ Whitey said, getting excited to see the pink mist he found himself addicted to..

‘This next one’s mine though.’ Whitey smiled and winked at the man in the passenger seat as he sped toward the next target on the list.

Whitey saw his mark a few hundred yards away and stopped the car ordering his man to get out. The man looked at him, thinking he was crazy, and he was… The man knew that so he got out of the car. The minute the door was shut Whitey sped off and pulled up behind his mark…

Whitey grabbed the mobster from behind and threw him in the trunk of his car… Driving off to a hideout he kept for occasions just like this one.

Forcing the man in to the house and down in to the basement Whitey locked the cellar door behind him, and handcuffed his victim to a lally column in the basement. He pulled up a chair in front of the man, and looked at him as he lit a cigarette.

He blew rings of smoke in to his victims face as he thought about how he should do this one. Whitey loved this particular hideout because there happened to be a drain in the basement; A nice thick drain where the blood could poor down without clogging it up.

Whitey took a big rope from the corner of the basement and put it around his victim’s neck and started choking him… The rope was too thick, Whitey couldn’t get it tight enough… His victim started gagging and vomiting on himself…

‘Ahh, this aint gonna work’ Whitey sighed

‘Would ya like two in the head boy-o?’ Whitey tilted his head and asked the young mobster

‘Yes… Please!’ The man choked out his final words

Whitey nodded sympathetically and walked around behind the boy and shot him in the back of the head, But to his surprise the boy wasn’t dead yet.

‘Oh ya fuckin bastid, why can’t ya just let go?’ Whitey smirked and pumped half a dozen rounds in the man’s chest.

A sigh of relief and a gentle smile broke across Whitey’s weathered and wrinkled face, that was the last one that had to be ‘taken care of’. Whitey walked up the cellar steps and flopped down on the couch, he loved to take a nice nap after a kill… When he was most relaxed.