:George looks around him, breathing deep of the air, gaping deep at the sights.  He swallows a large breath and shouts:

“I’m back, baby!  I’m back!”

After a break from the business—a foray into a number of fields; real estate, architecture, philanthropy, latex—George had returned to do his family name proud.  He strode with confidence into the grey dusk.

And he had every reason to feel optimistic.  It did not feel too long since he had been gone, and yet the streets shone with a new sparkle.  Things were changing in an intuitive and aesthetic manner.  Neighborhoods were developing unique personalities of their own accord.  Crews were adapting to new ways to reach out to recruits.  Law enforcement was more under their control than ever before.  Technologies allowed for more effective communication between colleagues. 

The future was certainly looking bright for professional criminals.  And George was practically licking his chops to get a hand back in the action.

:Chin high, looking into the streetlight, George straightens his suit and…lights his cigar:

Damn, it's a great time to be a gangster.

“I feel like my old self again – neurotic, paranoid, totally inadequate, completely insecure. It’s a pleasure.”