Well you know, these things are time sensitive.  Just how long is the crew supposed to stand around with their pants down so to speak before they get picked up for soliciting-wait, I am thinking of something else.  But still, sometimes you have to move fast.  Cops only look the other way for so long. you can't expect people to wait around for you while you organise your toolbox. 

"RazorRamon, you are always welcome at my OC, we can use a face of your kind and a muscle that can move a mountain."

Suns approached RazorRamon and handed him a shirt for him to sign.

"oh would you please sign this for my kids"

Razor really has the right of this. I think this type of behaviour is despicable and should really result in at least a demotion. 

"Not saying it's your fault. Maybe time was of the essence and the mastermind who invited you to the organized crime was probably expecting and instant invite, not saying all of us must have the speed of God or so, but you know. That's probably what I'm thinking about right now, there are always other chances through, Ramon."

"I know for one that I run a tight ship when it comes to an OC, I want to be in and out as fast as possible once the correct man power had beeen attained the job gets done, Sweetsuns is an expert in this field".

"Hey Razor, if you fix your watch il have a job for you"

As RazorRamon delivers a body shattering piledriver to someone, BlackAtom stands on the otherside of the street with a picket sign and can of beer. BlackAtom is very entertained by the wrestling spectacle, regardless of the reasoning behind such mayhem.

It was a clear, chilly day in Downtown Detroit, the type of weather Whoreable loved. As she and her bodyguard, Buster Cherry, walked around the city to familiarize themselves with their new surroundings they noticed a man laying a beating on another man. Impressed by the mans prowess Whoreable scowled at Buster as she spoke.

Damn it Buster, I love you and all, but why can't you learn moves like that?

Look at me, I'm not even slightly protected with you around. 

Buster chose not to respond as they walked by the broken man on the sidewalk. They continued their walk in total silence.

Dr.RickMarshall is stand back Striking matches, puffing on his pipe, he watches as the Great RazorRamon takes out a justified grudge out on an suspecting man. He strikes another match lights his pipe, puffs then holds the flame to the sky as RazorRamon leaves the man unconscious on the side walk.

[Dr.RickMarshall Salutes RazorRamon before going about his business]

BretTheHitmanHart was strutting his thing through the streets. The ladies were looking at him and checking out his hot physique. Everyone knew Bret had a great physique. He was particularly stout so he could man handle people in the ring. It didn't stop him from being sneaking and picking pockets though... 

As Bret continued to find his way through the crowded streets, he found his nemesis. The greased hair bimbo himself... RazorRamon. He listened to his mortal enemy and he couldn't help but laugh at this man. Everyone tried to cheer him up with these time sensitive remarks. But Bret knew the real reason.

"Hey Razor. You ever think that maybe you showed up and when the gang took a look at your ugly mug, they thought you couldn't handle yourself and just ditched your ass?!"

Bret puffed out his chest slightly as he laid it into RazorRamon.

"Yeah. I bet you have that problem a lot. Someone takes a look at you and they just think, what a dumb looking, greased hair, jabroni. And thats what happened here. They left your dumb butt."

Bret looked around as a crowd started to form around the conversation. 

RazorRamon sighs and shakes his head while BretTheHitmanHart babbles.  He walks away and decides to put together an organized crime of his own.  RazorRamon examines his options...

Steal from an Art Gallery

Run a Loansharking Operation

Torch a Rival's Business

Raid a Trucking Depot

Beat Up BretTheHitmanHart

Noticing that the "Beat up BretTheHitmanHart" organized crime was so simple that it required no other people to attempt this crime, RazorRamon opted to go with that and pummeled him relentlessly as the crowd cheered.  Razor's Edge, pinfall, 1-2-3.  RazorRamon beat up BretTheHitmanHart with the RazorRamon gang and didn't even have to split the money with anyone.  Success!

Bret stood there as he noticed RazorRamon day dream. The weird part about this was Ramon was actively shadowing his day dream. He saw the grease headed man mimic his finishing move, The Razor's Edge, and even heard him mumble a few words. As Ramon finished mimicking his finisher, he dropped to ground. It looked like Ramon was pinning someone. 

"ONE... TWO... THREE!!!"

Ramon was not only pinning someone but doing the count as well. As the Razor was getting back to his feet, he started to smile like something had really happened...

"Hey Razor. What you doin' jabroni? Were you... were you just dreaming about pinning me... about beating yours truly?"

Bret started to laugh again.

"Hey folks come get a look at what grease does when you wear too much of it! You go full idiot!"

​The crowd started to erupt with laughter.

"If it is a real fight you want pal, let's do it. Name the time and place."