Two thirty in the afternoon. That’s one of the best times for drinking. Well, actually, that’s not true. There is no best time to be drinking, because any time is a good time to be drinking.

Drunky meandered down the streets in Chicago. Things had changed in the last few weeks. His “Chicago #1!” sign no longer held the sway it once did. The masses that saw him carrying it were now confused. Which part of Chicago? They asked. How can an entire city be best, when you know that really it’s The Loop that’s way better than everyone else? Go back to Cicero if you really want free beers.

It was a disaster. If there was one thing Drunky needed more than anything, it was every free beer his body could handle. Damn. The old sot would actually have to work for his booze money now. This was going to require actual effort. Drunky was going to have to reform himself from a low-functioning alcoholic into a high-functioning alcoholic.

As the drunkard sat at the bar, he realized his thoughts were entirely too coherent of late. All of this lock picking and safe cracking was not doing him any good. He couldn’t even afford to be properly hammered to the point of incoherence anymore.

That’s it! I’ve just got to stop with the small potatoes felonies and start thinking big! Art galleries, loan sharking, extorting businesses, and hitting trucking depots. That’s where the real money’s at. Why did I ever bother with those silly safes? The trick for me making money isn’t to work harder. The trick to me finding my liquor money is to work less!

One of those art galleries takes maybe twice as much time as a safe, but it pays off thirty times as big. Hell, if I can raid just one of those trucking depots I’ll have the money I earned in the last twenty hours of picking my way into rich mansions.

And so Drunky began on his new quest. Instead of working hard for his money, he’d sit in the bars waiting for people to include him in quick jobs. Lock picking, safe cracking, extorting the mayor? That’s for suckers and sobers. The real money is made waiting around the bar for someone to have a bright idea. Seize the moment: always be ready to work, and then you'll barely ever have to. That was the old sot’s new motto.

Barkeep! A glass of gin and a long island iced tea to wash her down with, on the double. I’ve got work to do.

Sitting at the bar in a Local dive deep in downtown Chicago, Union notices a man park himself a few seats over.  Best Union can tell The man is rambling to himself about less work, more beer, mo money. Union smiles as he himself has been having these same thoughts of the last few business trips.   

Work Smarter not harder and if you can do that and get some extra beer money, good on ya.

Imhotep was sitting on a bar stool next to Union_Thug and began to plot a crime that would bring in huge amounts of money. 

" Hey mate." I said to Union_Thug. " We can make a fortune over the next 24 hours man. I am currently planning to torch the business of one of my Rivals. If i can have you as a partner in this, no i mean i want one of Chicago's finest money making Don's on my OC. If there is room i will include that drunk at the other end of the bar rambling on to himself about sapping off of other people's hard ass work. Help me out with my plan sir, and Ill help you out on that Trucking Depot i heard you were planning on raiding at some point today."

Union_Thug sat there a few minutes pondering about this offer that was being made to him by this Mobster from the West Side of the City. How he ended up in this part of town, Union_Thug didnt know but he wasnt about to pass up an opportunity to have some hired help.

"Alright mate, ill help you. You scratch my back, and I will Scratch yours, as the saying goes..." replied Union_Thug

" OK when i am ready to execute this plan, i will contact you." i replied as i chugged the last of my beer and left the bar.