In the middle of a cold dark night, the shrill sound of a phone rang, waking John from his sleep. 

"Hello," he murmured groggily, "Hello?" Blinking a few times in confusion to the silence on the other end of the line he began to hang up, suddenly just before the phone was about to disconnect he heard,

"John? John it's me! Claire from the club downtown that you visit. Me and a few friends are worked up and wondered if you wanted to come visit."

John, looking towards his sleeping wife whispered into the phone, "I'll be there shortly let me just splash some cologne on and put a more suitable outfit on. See you shortly."

Sneaking quickly and quietly out the side door connected to the garage John took a deep breath and reversed out slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible. Popping in a mint to his mouth he picked up speed as he crept farther and farther away from his house.

Pulling over to the side of the road and parking between two blacked out vehicles he stepped out of his car and shut the door, looking around. Had to make sure no one saw him in this part of the town, it would be awful for his reputation. He couldn't very well be held credible for his ideas on bringing the law down upon organized crime if it was public knowledge that his favorite bar was run my mafioso.

Walking into one of the finer looking buildings John smiled as he began to approach a group of women. Barging right through the group to the girl in the center he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her passionately. So much for loyalty to your spouse. Looking around he saw the same ol' familiar faces dotted around the room; Freddy from Philly at the bar, Jeremiah from Chicago, and Vinnie from Detroit among them. There was a face he didn't recognize, and he decided to introduce himself.

"Hello, my name is John Woodward, one of Michigan's congressman." Extending his hand to the man, wearing a smile he saw that the man was apparently unconscious. Oh well, his loss. Wasn't every day you got to meet a congressman. Turning around he heard a tiny click as if from a camera, but decided it was just his mind playing tricks on him. After all, who would want to take pictures of him? His picture was plastered all over the place on advertisements and promotional items.

Heading back to the group of woman he sat down on the leather couch, instantly being surrounded by topless beauties. The man at the bar sat up unseen, and pulled out a camera, taking quick photos of the man covered in woman that were quite obviously not his wife.

John and the group of woman proceeded to head outside, into the cool dark night. Following them the man from the bar tapped John on the shoulder and as he turned around, punched him in the face. Stumbling back and trying to stop the blood from dripping down onto his shirt John screamed,

"What in the bloody hell do you think you're doing?! Do you know who I am!?" The man from the bar walked up to John and spit on his shoes,

"You sir, are nothing but a fake. Someone who wants to crack down on criminals, yet you support many local mob bars. You're a disgrace to everyone you've ever come in contact with. And oh yeah, those clicks you heard were from a camera. I was taking pictures of the criminals you associated with for the press. I'm sure they'll be impressed. Might as well wave goodbye to your career, because it just got flushed down the toilet."

Stepping towards John with a quick motion the man feigned a kick, and stopped before contacting, "James Terranova, at your service." Nudging John with his foot the bewildered congressman fell into a puddle, fuming silently.

(Several days later: Detroit Daily)

Pictures sent in from an anonymous reader today verified rumors of congressman John Woodwards involvement with organized crime. Undeniable pictures place Woodward in an illegal speakeasy associating with known criminals. A board of councilman will be meeting later today to decide his fate, which presumably will be him being stripped of his title, already Woodward has denied the press...  More on page C-2)

Great story...Can't wait to see some more stuff by you.

I look forward to some more of your tales Signore, you clearly are a busy man.

Sammy smiles

Putting down the Detroit Daily, Hildebrand looks up at the table where SammyGato, crypler and James Terranova were discussing the events of a couple days ago and motions to a nearby waitress.

"Tell the man there I'll take care of their check and...do me a favor miss...give the man in the hat this."

Writing quickly, he hands her a piece of paper and brushes his suit of crumbs from his breakfast. Getting up, he nods to the owner of the establishment and goes into the back room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Sir? Your check is being taken care of, courtesy of Hildebrand, and he asked me to give you this."

The waitress slips James Terranova a folded paper and he carefully opens it and reads:

Impressive. We share the same mind on the arrogantly ignorant.