Cruising through town, seated behind my driver, my mind is racing faster than the car.  First this prick had had the nerve to kill our beloved father--a man whose innocent love for his family had driven him to try and retreat from his life of crime, to stop being active within the mafia world--and now he had managed to take out my brother.

"You worthless pieces of SHIT!" I shouted at my henchmen next to me.  "How could you let him get away?!  He was in our hands--in our damn headquarters!"

 But they can only shrug, because they know the root of what's happened.  They were outgunned.  Outgunned, then outrun.  Good help is hard to find.

We're headed up town because these worthless inchworms did manage to spot him getting in a cab with a friend, and informants confirm that it was seen heading North.  I didn't know how the hell we were going to track them down again--it blew my mind that we had had him, and let him get away.  All I knew was that our headquarters was busted.  We would have to relocate, but first we had to do our best to find him before they regrouped and struck back.

My motivation is finding Sidious: the man who my late brother and I knew had authorized Skittles to take the shot at our old man.  I wonder if he recognized Tony.  It's been years since we watched him murder our father, but we would never forget his face.  Has he forgotten ours?  They consider our entire family to be deserters, but my father was just trying to protect us.  In a way, I guess he did.  But we must have some of his bloodlust in our genes.  We just couldn't let it go.  Even after all these years.

Entering uptown we have to make a stop.  I need a new piece.  Skittles stole the gun that my father had passed down to my brother and I, and it occurs to me that my ammo man may know where I can hire a guy with a halfway decent shot.  Anything is a step up from the failures I'm sharing the backseat with.

We stop outside a set of brick rowhomes.  "Benni, you come with me.  Archie, watch Charles and the car for us?" 

Entering the building, my heart screams out as I realize that normally it would be my brother Tony by my side instead of this two-bit hoodlum.  He would never be there to have my back again.

The inside of Reggie's house is like any other family home.  The basement, however, is like soemthing out of an NRA pornography magazine.  No pun intended.  But our money is short--the thugs that we keep have protected our family out of loyalty to my late pops.  I'm looking for something simple.  Anything that will get the job done.  He gives me a small six-shooter, and I tuck it into my belt at the small of my back.

Benni groans and shifts his weight, leaning against the stairway railing and nursing the wound where Skittles grazed his arm.  Before I can even ask about a cheap but effective hitman, Reggie says, "You know, if you're looking to get that arm taken care of, young fella, but you don't want to draw the heat, I know a guy in the neighborhood.  He's real professional, and he's discreet.  He'll fix you up in no time, and no one will ever have to know about it."

My heart jumps.  "You know a private doctor--near here?!"

"Yes.  Just a few blocks up.  Kenny Kowaguchi.  He's the best, or so I've been told."

"Take us there." I growled.

"Okay, well just let me give him a ca--"

"Let's go, Reggie.  Take us there now."  I pull him by the arm towards the stairs.

In the car again, this time with Reggie guiding from the front seat, my blood is pumping faster than the pistons.  Our revenge was nearing its completion.  I could feel it.

Reggie signaled for Charles to slow the car, and we crouched in the backseat.  Three people were exiting the building we were headed for.  Two of them I didn't recognize, but one stuck out to me, like one from a dream.  There was the man who had murdered my father and now my brother.

Seeing us approach, they reach for their pieces, firing over their shoulders while running behind the building. Red flashes onto the tan interior.  I watch Reggie's head snap back, then slowly bob forward.  Poor guy.  Sorry to get you involved.

Still crouching, I smile as I finger my new (and now free) gun and watch Skittles' face nervously looking back towards our car before disappearing around the brick corner.  Our revenge is near at hand, dear brother Tony.

(Note:  Obviously, this is not told by ThomasFHagen.  It is through the eyes of Skittles' fictional enemy.  Not bad, eh?)

nice lol hope hear ending

OOh now i get what we have to do!

     Sep 12, '09 04:41     Your accountant has made payment of $250,000 to ThomasFHagen.
    Sep 12, '09 04:40    Your accountant has made payment of $250,000 to The_Messiah.

Congrats both good stories I couldn't split it