Along the east side of town are row after row of docks, and just as many boats and ships, with many more warehouses for the goods. One of them, however, was closed for some time. An unusual thing, for there is much money to be made smuggling drugs and alcohol, for a smuggler to have closed down. And then, a month after it closed its doors, they re opened, now with a sign out front that reads:

Big Bass Gun Shop

guns, ammo, surplus, and shipping

Inside there are racks upon racks on every wall, and pallets worth of ammo on shelves throughout the floor. On the walls, there are pistols, revolvers, and flare guns in one corner of the store, and rifles in another. Bolt, semi, and full automatic, some with shortened barrels, some with scopes, some with the works, all with a price tag. Along the floor are setup displays for mortars and heavy machine guns, as well as clothing racks for surplus uniforms. Cammo, ghillie, and sevral heavy coats from various armies. 

Signs on the counter say "All purchases can be shipped to any location." And  "Open for limited time. These weapons may become illegal soon. Buy now!"

A man stand at the counter, going over paperwork, ready to help his next customer. 

Charlie loved guns they were amazing the went bang bang and he felt like a GOD when had them on top of his booming businesses and the drugs and guns he frequently ran he felt a sense of immortality and he wasn't stopping anytime soon that was for sure

He did run guns but he also had a huge personal collection of them including golden guns and decorated guns and when he saw a new gun shop open he knew he had to go in and see what the guy had to offer maybe even eventually get him in his little drug running business and get them both high in the riches

He walks in and takes a look around there were all sorts of guns and he was sure some of them were illegal but he could be wrong for all he knew

He walks up to the front desk and asks for a handgun or a selection of them

"Hey there, sir. The wall of handguns is right over there." Bass says as he points to the other side of the room. Together, he and Charlie walk over there.

"Our selection is as large as our shipping route. If we don't have it, we can get it.

Over here we have some Colts, both the revolvers, like the police models, and the repeaters, like the 1911." He says as he points to one end of the rack.

"And we have several models of Smith and Wesson, mostly revolver and some High Standard Deringers and .22s. We also have a stock of Browning Hi-Powers. A very good pistol, if I say so myself." Now pointing to the other end of the rack.

"But if you're looking for something more exotic, we have some imported handguns. Some Nagant revolvers, good for stealth. The cylinder makes a seal with the back of the barrel, meaning you can silence it with a suppressor. We've got some German Lugers and Walthers, finely engendered guns, some British Webley revolvers in large calibers, very powerful, and the mother of all pistols, the Red 9." 

He says, as he pulls up a few of the imported guns from inside the counter.

"Honestly, I'd grab one the imported ones while you can. You can get most of the domestic ones is any gun shop, but the foreign ones take more of a delicate hand to get around customs, and most of these aren't in production anymore.

What do you think?"

Streets of Detroit can be very dangeorus place to be so Liquid decide to visit

Bassanovas gun shop

"hello Bassanova I will need colt .38 and few boxes of ammo

can you arange me that?"

Leaving Charlie to look at the pistols, Bass turns to Liquid to help him find the gun he's looking for.

".38 you said? I have a few different models. I have the Positive, both blued and in nickel finishes, and the official, which is blued."

Reaching above his head to the guns n the rack, he grabs a few and puts them on the counter. 

"All of them are .38 Colts, not a huge difference between them, but if you like, we can modify the one you like. File down the hammer, shorten the barrel, lighten the trigger pull, whatever you need. 

As for a mo, we have target loads, which I wouldn't suggest shooting someone with, and hot loads, which I would suggest shooting someone with. We can also make custom loads for you, maybe a hollow point, or full jacket."

Chucky walks into the gun shop.  He pulls his handgun out from his shoulder holster and lays it down on the counter in front of Bassnova.  

"I don't know much about guns," Chucky begins, "But, this sure doesn't pack the punch that I want.  This thing hits like a rabbit punch, and I want to be able to throw the haymaker.  I got a little more room in this holster of mine, but I still want to be able to put it in this shoulder holster of mine."  

Chucky takes a look around the shop.  He's fully impressed with the selection and the knowledge that the salesman possesses, as he overheard Bassnova helping out the gentleman in front of him.  This is 1930's mafia.  Sometimes it's hard to find people who are knowledgeable in what they are talking about.

"What do you think you can do for me sir?"

Chucky puts a thick roll of cash down on the counter in front of him.

Leaving Liquid to ponder what Bass had just told him, he moved to ChuckyKnuckles. 

"Ah, let's see what we have here." He says as he takes a look at chuckys gun. "Ok, so, it seems your problem is that this is a .32. It'll do the job, but not too well. And you want something that'll hit like a horse, right? I have a few things." 

He reaches up to the rack and under the display case for 3 guns. Putting them on the table, he says "This first one here is a 1911, and might be the best all around choice. It a .45, so it has a kick, but it hits hard. Holds 7 rounds, and is an auto loader." Bass hands Chucky the gun to look at.

"And this one is the Webley revolver. It's slightly heftier, at .455 caliber, and packs a bit more of a punch and has more ammo variety. It has stuff that can punch through bulletproof glass, body armor, and soft targets." He hands this one to Chucky too.

"Finally, we have the baby from the mind of the greatest Mormon to ever live, the Browning Hi-Power. 9mm with a 13 round magazine and low kickback. 9mm might not have the punch you're looking got, though." And he lays it down on the counter, as Chucky is still wondering at the size of the Webley.

"We have a small range in the back if you want to test each of them out. They all come with a box of ammo, but in the Webleys case, the box is 20 rounds instead of the 50 the others have. We have to make most of those ourselves."

"I love that yes ill take one of them please" replies Charlie

And while we're at it what else big guns do you have here.

I would really like something that can really tear a person up if it came to that.

He knew Bassanova knew what he meant after all they both where mobsters and they both knew their business came down to that often.

"Maybe some bullets that are really effective" says Charlie.

Then he notices a friend.

"Liquid how are you doing my friend"?

"The Red 9, sir? Great choice. I'll throw in 2 more mags and 2 boxes of hollow points. Don't forget, that switch on the side throws it into full auto. It can be hard to control, so use it up close."

Bass packs the gun and its mags in a small brown box, putting the ammo on top and sealing it with packing tape.

He hands it to Charlie, and says "That comes to $230, sir. And have a nice day."

The day had been a long one as he returned from an easy day drinking and spending Rick's money.  He knew Rick didn't mind, so decided it was time to get himself a present too.  Strolling around, he tried to follow the directions Bassanova had left him, as he lit up a smoke and strolled along the docks.

Noticing a sign, he shrugged knowing this was going to be his last inhale of that tabacco goodness for a while as he scuff his nails against his jacket, he knew he would bite them without the cigarette in his hand.

Pushing the door open gently, he looks round for Bassanova.

"I am looking for a Stevens M620 or a ZH-29 if you can't help me"

scratching his chin, he looked around

"i will also need something to conceal it within for the ride home as never know who will try and look in the car"

tapping on the counter to use his fingers, he smiled waited for his next hit of nicotine

"Aye boss, we've got those." Bass said, quickly moving to find the guns. "I'll be right back."

Bass went into the back room, coming out a minute later with 2 guns in hand.

"So, the Stevens. Nice shotgun, alright. 12 gauge, pump, nice and simple. It's $150. Higher price than most others, but Stevens has a warranty on it.

and the ZH-29. Czech gun, 8mm, auto loader. An amazing feat of engineering. It'll kick less than a Mauser, with all the same results. It's hard to put a price a quality import like this, but I found a way. $330 for it, 5 5 round clips, and a box of ammo."

Pulling an envelope out of his pocket, he slid it across the counter as he looked at the items.  He knew they would aide in protection with the Durden army roaming the street.

"that should cover it and a little more to cover the speed of service"

Looking round he pointed towards a sports  bag as if asking if can take it

Summoning over his car, he looks to make sure he has enough ammo for the day

"You want them in the bag? Sure thing." Bass said, packing the guns, ammo, and clips into the duffle bag.

"hey, just for you, I put in 2 20 round mags for the ZH, fully loaded. Go get them Durds." He said, handing him the bag and sliding the envelope under the counter.

Embracing his dear friend Bassanova, he checks the safeties and throws the bag over his shoulder, looking around he beckons Sam his driver forward to start the engine.

"thanks for this, they won't know what hit them"

Walking towards the door, he raises his hand as if to say bye

she stood outside the shop, savoring her freshly light cigarette. the taste was refreshing and joyful, the smoke exhaling from her nose danced in the wind until it faded away. she was calm, cool, and collected during this moment in time. just her, the smoke, and the simple joy of another day alive in Detroit. life really was complete she thought to herself.

when the smoke was finished, she tossed the butt into a near by garbage pale, turned, and walked into the shop. guns had never been her thing, but times where a changing. inside the place, various strangers stood at display cases, admiring pieces of weaponry. others where talking to a few store clerks, gaining knowledge on what was the proper piece for them. she stepped up to the register, rang the little bell that said ring for service and smiled her best smile. a busy clerk told her he would be with her in a moment.

The ringing of the bell perked Bass' ears. Someone needed help, so he put down his sandwich in the back room and headed to the front. On his way out, he spotted one of the loaders eyeing his sandwich. Forgetting that people could hear him, he yelled "Gus, if there's another bite out of my sandwich I'LL GUT YOU LIKE A FISH!"

Realizing the woman at the counter clearly heard him, he chuckled. "Sorry about that. You know how co-workers can be. But you rang because you need something. How can I help you?"

As I walk into "The Big Bass Gun Shop"  hoping I can find someone that can repair my great grandmother Diamond Pistol that was made for her from a lover before she was killed in the Chicago war.

As Marissa walk up to the counter looking for someone to help her. "Good day can I talk to manager please I need to know if someone can repair a pistol for me. It was my great grandmother pistol I was named after her."  As she wait for manager Marissa decide to look around that gun shop.

Manager come out say  " How can I help you and Marissa explain everything to him.  Manager said had get hold owner and see if  he can repair it for her. "  " Marissa left her address so owner can get hold of her and say her good bye and left the shop.

she smiled as the owner of the shop approached her offering assistance. it was rare during this day in age that the actually owner would assist you. this would be a good transaction she thought to herself.

Yes, Hi! I'm Avery, not that it matters, but anyways. I need a gun, I don't really know why I need a gun, I mean what would I do with a gun. It seems so crazy to get one, but I guess I need to follow the bosses orders.

she paused as the store owner looked at her all crazy eyed. a woman in a gun shop, wanting a gun, but not really wanting a gun. maybe avery was crazy.

So yeah, can you help me out? I don't know anything about these things, but I gotta get one. Boss lady said so. So whatcha got, are they cute colors? Big, small, pink, blue? What am I getting into here?

"Well, we don't really have them in colors other than silver and black. I guess we could paint it for you, if you really wanted."

pausing for a minute to look at the wall, Bass grabs one and lays it on the counter.

"So, this is the one I'd suggest for someone that needs protection, but doesn't handle guns often. It's a Colt M1903. It's hammer is in the gun, rather than sticking out, so it won't snag if you keep it in your pocket all the time. It's also .32acp, so it's not hard to handle, but it'll do the job.

Would you like to take it in the back and empty a mag?"

Deadshot had just been busy whacking people he had forgot to top up on his ammo, he didn't miss so he always used one bullet but he just had so many to take out for money or if they had stepped out of line. He always used the same ammo for his gun so he made it down to his home town shop called The Big Bass Gun Shop. Deadshot walked in letting on to everyone he knew in there, walking past them all and yo the counter Deadshot stop there.

"Hey I ran out of my ammo can I have the usual please? How are things been?"