BlackBlack stands in the streets for hours on end pacing backward and forward constantly stopping to read the eulogies left at BlackJack's Funeral. Suddenly, BlackBlack stops as he notices a flyer on a nearby lamp post. The flyer advertising Ted's Excellent Donation Drive. BlackBlack remembers what he is here in the streets for and removes, from his right hip pocket, the envelope he found lying on the floor in Ted's apartment. BlackBlack opens the envelopes and reads the first of two letters:

To my dearest son,

By now you are aware of my death and you have been to see Ted. I hope you are both well and that he is looking after you. Unfortunately, there is one last favour I must ask of you. I need you to take the letter contained within this envelope and read it out in the streets for everybody to hear. The message contained within is of extremely high importance.

I love you with all my heart son.

Kindest final regards,

Your father,

BlackJack

BlackBlack holds back his tears and walks towards the soapbox. He lights up a cigarette and casually smokes it, obviously deep in thought. He throws the remainder of his cigarette on the ground and steps it out before climbing up onto the soapbox:

"Mobsters of our lands, please take a quick moment out of your day to gather and hear me speak. For those of you who do not know me, I am BlackBlack, son of the late BlackJack of the High Rollers."

BlackBlack waits a few moments in order to allow those in earshot to gather. BlackBlack holds up the letter high above his head as he waits.

"I am here today to carry out my late fathers final wishes. He previously asked me to read out this letter to all of you gathered here today. However, I do not feel that I will be able to read the whole thing at this stage given that the death of my father is so raw and recent. As such, I will leave this letter here, on this table, for each of you to inspect at your own leisure. I thank you all for taking the time to stop by and indulge me."

BlackBlack steps down from the soap box and lays the letter down on the table beside it. The letter reads:

Dear sons and daughters of members and former members of the High Rollers, members of the Las Vegas Crime Syndicate and members of Las Vegas in general,

I sit here at my desk in my headquarters to write out my final address to you all.

Firstly, I wish to thank each and every one of you and your parents for all of your hard work, dedication and above all else friendship during our time as members of Las Vegas. I can honestly say it was a pleasure being able to roam the streets with each and every one of you.

For those of you who continue to live after I have died, I wish you all the best in your new homes (if you need a new home) and beg you to hold no ill will against anybody who you believe to have killed me. I can assure you that I lived my life the way that I wished to do so and that I lived it knowing that it would not last forever. My advice to you is to always remember that you are not immortal and that some day you will die too.

For those of you who are hearing this as a descendant, I hope that each of you carries on your parents legacy and does them proud. I am 100% certain that despite the fact that you are feeling pain now, your parents would not want you to dedicate your lives to avenging theirs. You should live your life as your own, never forget your parents but also make sure that you are looking after yourselves and doing what is best for you.

Finally, to those of you who are hearing this as an outsider, please do all you can to make the bloodlines of former Las Vegas members welcome in your own families. Each of these children come from really great parents and will be true assets to your crews.

​It was truly a pleasure being able to share these streets with you.

Kindest regards to all,

The late Don BlackJack of the High Rollers, the Strip, Las Vegas

BlackBlack reads the letter to himself for one last time before striking up the courage to once again take a stand on the soapbox:

"Thank you all again for gathering here today. I just wanted to take this opportunity to thank Ted for taking me in. At my fathers funeral, the priest gave me a letter which I read aloud in the church. This letter was from my father. He advised me to track down his good friend Ted. I wish to take this opportunity and tell everybody that the Black bloodline is returning to its roots. I will be roaming the streets with the descendants of my great grandfathers friends in South Side, Chicago. Let it be known, the Black's are back!!!"

BlackBlack steps down off the soap box and lights up another cigarette. He walks away to the side of the gathered crowd and sits down. He is hunched forwards and clearly distressed and upset. Completing his fathers final wishes almost killed him inside.

He always hated funerals. Just the emotions that came along with them had always made Ted uneasy about them in a way that he just wasn't used to, he almost never felt anything, so when it came time to feel, he always opted out. For that very reason, he decides to stay away from nearly all of them-- including his friend BlackJack. He made a promise however, one that he would not break, a promise to take care of his son and make sure he made it in this thing of ours.

Ted walked out into the streets and noticed BlackBlack standing there in the cold, windy city. He was probably not used to it, seeing as how he had lived in Nevada for most of his life. He stood behind the man and then tapped him on the back. He wanted to get his attention, but decided throwing cold water in his face would probably not go over very well while he's trying to grieve. 

"Hey, are you okay? You know what would make you feel better? I have a job lined up, I was going to do it myself, but maybe you could come with me?" 

Ted extended his hand to help BlackBlack stand up, and waited for him to give an answer to his question.

BlackBlack accepts Ted's hand and manages to find his feet. With nothing more than a smile and a nod, BlackBlack follows Ted away from the streets towards his apartment. By the looks of things, this was going to be one very exciting job...

Welcome back but why?

BlackJack steps forward to greet ThisThing. He places his hat down on the wooden crate beside them, revealing his obviously weathered and aged face:

"Greetings my new friend. I do not recognise your face so I can only assume that you are new hear. I have very little doubt that your family's bloodline has been in these parts for some time now. Please, allow me to tell you my story.

Approximately two years ago I was the leader of a crew in Las Vegas, known as the High Rollers. We were a mean bunch who had gotten ourselves into a bit of trouble with some clowns that had flown in from across the country with the sole purpose of causing trouble in our business district. Shortly after sending a telegram to their God Father, I was informed that there was no intention for them to be reigned in. Naturally, being upset at these actions and the poor quality of the response, I took matters into my own hands. It is safe to say that these actions were not looked upon favourably by my God Father, who immediately was forced to take preventative action to protect the city.

I looked down the barrel of one of my fellow crew leaders in the Strip's gun and nodded, agreeing to my punishment knowing that it was in order to protect my city. I closed my eyes and heard the ringing of a single shot. Seconds later, after still feeling conscious, I opened my eyes. I was met by the other upper structures of my district.

As I had shown my loyalty, and my willingness to serve my District and City, my life was spare and an elaborate plan was hatched in order to fake my death, allowing my son, the late BlackBlack to continue on with my bloodline. Shortly after my death, BlackBlack left these shores to stay with me for a number of years. Recently however, he decided that he wanted to return to this way of life and flew back in to Las Vegas where he ultimately met his end.

Upon receiving the news, I rushed back to these shores to visit his funeral. It is there that I met up with a number of descendants from my former crew members, all of which were extremely aware of my contribution to their bloodlines, all of which invited me to work along side them in mutual respect of their ancestors. This is how, I have come to rise once again, starting from the bottom, to prove myself once again.

There is obviously a large portion of this story missing, but rather than bore you with every detail, I welcome you to ask any questions that you may have."

BlackJack slowly lowers his aged body onto a soapbox and takes a seat. He removes a cigarette box from his left breast pocket and proceeds to offer one to ThisThing. He replaces the cigarette box and removes his matches from his right breast pocket before swiftly lighting up.