Mr. Pickles steps up before a building throng of people.  He sets up his 47 Enterprises ©®™ Soapbox.  He thinks for a minute.  No, this won’t do!  He grabs his official 47 Enterprises ©®™ two-story speech box.  Yes, this is more appropriate.  Pickles walks out onto his makeshift balcony and addresses the crowd.

“Friends, Romans, Countrymen . . .  and Tiggy, I am here to announce that I am now in charge.  I am the new tyrant  for a new generation!  I now control Chicago, Philadelphia, Detroit, and New York.  Now, to make administration easier, I’m going to rename the four cities New Windy City of Brotherly Love Don’t Go To Detroit At Night, or NWCOBLDGTAN.  Okay, I’ll have to assemble a committee to come up with a better name.  

I can see some of you godfathers and crew leaders out there looking a little concerned.  Captain Harris, you can holster your gun.  Quinten, put your razor away and stop looking at my ear!  Ziva, I can see the glint from your scope.  Mr. Sinatra, please tell Carmine and Nunzio they’re wrinkling my suit and to put me down!”

Sinatra nods and his two goons set Pickles down and walk back into the crowd.

“Ahem, now where was I?  Oh yes . . . you needn’t fear.  The sheer task of running NWCOBLDGTAN – yeah, I gotta change that – is daunting, so I will allow you to remain in power, but all major decisions will have to go through me, obviously.  

I will not be a harsh taskmaster, nor a despotic ruler unless you force me to be.  But, there will be changes.  On the first and third Thursday of every month, there will be a parade honoring me!  I want floats, marching bands, and I want one of those giant helium balloons of me floating down the street, too!  Also, there will be circuses!  The good kind with three rings and lions and tigers.

But, there are more draconian measures I will be taking as well.  

1)    Everyone will send me $1 to fund my empire.  Crew leaders will send me $2.
2)    All HQ bars will be renamed “Pickles Memorial Bar.”
3)    All sentences will end with “If Pickles allows.”
4)    There will be no watering the seeds of liberty with the blood of tyrants!  Thomas Payne be damned!
5)    And, for the heck of it, all of my subjects shall wear this lapel pin to show their love and loyalty to yours truly. --> Lapel Pin

I think this will be all for now."

The French Maids in the crowd disguised as common folk throw roses at Pickles as he descends his balcony.

Cantona, a fiery gallic nutcase at the best of times, was truly outraged by this truly disgraceful gauntlet that had been dropped. A metaphorical gauntlet. No one had real gauntlets these days. Bring back the old times, I say, when men were men, women were women and everybody had gauntlets. Probably

Where was I? Ah yes, Cantona. He wasn't happy. He barged his way to the front of the (admittedly rather sparse) crowd gathered to listen to the inane wittering of an ancient old relic and began shaking his fist a tad extravagantly.

This is quite frankly a disgusting abuse and I would like to register my absolute disgust with it, if Pickles allows.

anima hears some crazy man speaking down the street and decides to check out what is going on. (If Pickles allows)

I'm not sure of your sanity my dear man, if Pickles allows.  But I sure do think you've got some good advice about Detroit; If Pickles allows

Mr. Pickles sees this as his first test of his new tyranny - what to do with a dissonant malcontent who follows all the rules?

Cantona, your displeasure is duly noted, and I've made a reservation for you at one of the many new Pickles Re-Education Resorts around the cities.  Enjoy your lobomy . . . I mean enjoy your stay.  If I allow.

tony approaches the gentleman speaker who somewhat reminds him of a small puppy he once owned and examines his shiny lapel

You know good sir I've never been much on conforming but I like your ideas. Now I only heard really what I wanted to hear from your speech if I may be perfectly honest..

tony clears his throat and looks down awkwardly

But honestly if I can get pickles from you for a dollar that's a much better deal than dealing with local merchants. I don't much care for pickles but I believe when getting a deal you should never pass on it!

He begins to trail off

Now how do I go abouts signing up ffor this pickle agreement and get one of those lapels!?

Voldemort is walking down the road and hears Mr. Pickles speech and laughs at the comments made. 

" My dear Mr. Pickles there can only be one tyrant and im afraid that you do not fit the criteria. See the a Tyrant is the strongest mother fucker in the game, and my friend im afraid you are not.  In fact the strongest person in this game is not even a tyrant. unseat Cpt-Harris and then maybe we will talk. That is, of course, assuming that Lord Voldemort gives you the time of day..."

Lord Voldemort walks away from this crazy man, muttering to himself about some awesome bar he heard about the other day...

Ziva has heard rumours of a new tyrant emerging in these parts, one originating from her own crew. She decides to go to the source of the tyranny, Mr_Pickles himself..that is, if Pickles allows!

Ah Voldemort, clearly Pickles has allowed you to hallucinate again sir! If the man himself were to allow, I'd suggest you go lie down for a while til all these crazy thoughts go away! How on earth could one say Pickles is not the greatest tyrant of our times? I'm quite sure he doesn't allow that!

Pickles, I have put some great thought into how I can pay my tribute to you, and what I have come to is this; if you allow it, I suggest you go ahead and deduct $2 from your taxes!

Enkindle, as a show of my magnanimous generosity and nobles oblige, I allow you to send me the $10!

Pickles hopes there's no lightning bolts from above

Ziva, as a matter of principle and form, I'll still need you to send me that $2.  After all, if I didn't, it would be like the government mailing you stamp coupons instead of a tax refund.  It just wouldn't look good for the other crew leaders and godfathers.  And, as the crew leader I allow to have me in their crew, it's up to you to set a good example.  Which I'll allow.

Pickles thinks he's doing a good job as tyrant, but thinks there might have to be a greater show of force to sway the unbelievers and cement the fervor of the faithful.

I never admired a tyrant but you sir is an exception...I'd be damned but I'll be sending 1$ to your account if  Mr_Pickles allows.

You had me at French Maids and helium balloons, tyrant away good sir. 

Jake. You've already broken the rules. Be careful or you'll be on the wrong side of his Tyranny! .. If Pickles allows.

Pickles observes his subjects discussing amongst themselves.

Ms. Worley, be not hasty to judgement, as you have not affixed the state-sponsored lapel pin to your suit.  Now, don't make me send you to a Pickles Re-Education Resort!  And, that I will allow.

Jake, I may be a tyrant, but that doesn't mean it can't be enjoyable for the loyalists, hence the balloons.  I could have sworn I heard someone else mutter "seems legit" but I don't know where that guy went.  I do appreciate his approval, despite the fact that approval is mandatory!

Pickles smiles and waves at the crowd.

And where do you propose I pin the lapel, Pickles? I'm a call girl, there isn't much clothing on me!

Ah Pickles, Pickles, I see your point, I see it most clearly.. if Pickles allows, of course.

To rectify my ignorance and my insulting suggestion of a tax reduction, I have promptly sent the required $2 to you. If you allow, your account should be in receipt of this $2 imminently.

I was not aware we were having a competition to pay the most tribute to our beloved Tyrant, however, if this be the case, I take note of your tribute of an additional $100, enkindle, and tribute up $200 myself.. if Pickles allows.

After all, since I am the person honoured with having the tyrant of our times operate out of my crew, I should at least properly pay my respects, if he allows.

Townslave was walking rather quickly trying to find a restroom, he just couldn't hold it much longer. Picking up the pace, left foot, right foot, rinse and repeat. He kept thinking that maybe he shouldn't of took those last few sips of Dr. Pepper. He was losing it, keeping his head looking straight down as he burst into a full sprint. While busy focusing on the ground he ran right into a crowd. The whole way was blocked with listeners. Townslave heard that all sentences must end with "If Pickles allows." He tried to push his way further into the crowd but they just wouldn't move out of his way quick enough.

"$1,000,000 if you make all these people move. I've really got to use the bathroom, if Pickles allows!"

Townslave face started changing between frustration and agonizing pain. He began jumping up and down.