Ever since I was just a kid, I always wanted to be a gangster.

That was what a lot of young men, and women were saying these days. But what is a gangster? Sure you can accept an invitation to become an associate in someone's crew, but does that really make you a gangster? I had been invited to come and work for Wigglebutt in New York City, by Luxuria and I had finally started my life of crime. I held the rank of gangster, which was given to me by Wigglebutt when I joined up with the Soulful Sinners. But that didn't make me a gangster. Loyalty, respect, Omerta, and taking a bullet for the family made me a gangster. Maybe one day, I could show the people who had given me a chance in what they would call, This Thing Of Ours, but until then, I'd need to prove myself.

I often wandered the streets, thinking of ways for me to show those people what I could do. I wanted them to trust me, to take me in as one of their own. Figuring I had some time to spare before I was even eligible to become a part of the family, to be inducted, I had decided that there was one way for me to get this job done. I just had to earn their respect, before I could earn their trust. Because without their trust, I got nothing. I didn't want to leave things like this for too long, so something drastic would need to get done. Perhaps a murder of some kind? Was that the kind of thing that they took part in? They were the mob, of course they did, what was I thinking?

I'd once heard that we were having some trouble with these so called gangsters out in Reno City. They had been coming to New York City for months now, kidnapping young women, and trafficking them off to some Columbian's... God knows where. I knew what it was that I had to do. My cousin, Arthur, he knew exactly where these people did their business. I was going to force him to bring me to them. I had a plan, and I was going to earn the respect of the people I worked for. They didn't know it yet, but I was going to. There wasn't a lot of people who would just hop onto a train, head to Reno City, and attack a Street Crew there. It was the kind of thing that you just didn't do. I had big balls, however, and I was going to prove that.

I had a plan put together. It was simple really, and Arthur was going to help me. I hired a Cadillac for the day, drove over to his house, and knocked on the door. He answered, and I told him to get into the car. He knew that I was now connected, in a sense, to the Soulful Sinners. Arthur knew not to fuck around with these people, which meant that he knew not to fuck around with me. He was a bright kid, knew how to show respect. I explained to Arthur that he needed to show me where these cockroaches live. He nodded his head, to my surprise, and agreed to show me their hideout. He said it was some dingy little pub somewhere, and he knew the location. I smiled, lit up a cigarette, and we left for Reno City.

We had arrived, after what seemed like a long drive. It didn't actually take so long. We were parked down the street from the pub which was called Badger's Tale. Fuck knows why they chose that name, but that was it. I had a plan, and Arthur had been filled in. I was going to go home to Brooklyn, as a fucking hero. We waited for nightfall in the Cadillac, with coffee and cigarettes, a couple doughnuts, and some bottles of spirits. I'd sent Arthur to the corner store to buy this stuff, and we waited. We were staking the place out, to make sure that the leader didn't leave. If he did leave, then I was going to shoot him in the face. Fortunately for us, he was too drunk to go anywhere. The time for movement had arrived, and we both picked up a few bottle of spirits, some rags, and matches. We made our way to the front and back doors of the pub, and waited a few minutes for the coast to be clear. We stuffed the rags into the bottles, lit them with the matches, and threw them into the pub. Making sure that no one was able to leave, we shot anyone that tried.

The place had been burnt down, and there wasn't any survivors. Arthur and I got back into the Cadillac, and drove it back to New York City. We dropped it off at a storage shed we had rented, wiped it completely down and left it there overnight. I took a cab home, and Arthur went his own way. I gave Luxuria a call, to let her know what had happened. She knew I was going to sort out the problem, but she didn't have a clue how I was going to be doing it. Nobody did.

"It is done." She sighed heavily down the phone, and hung up. I placed the receiver down, and poured myself a glass of bourbon. I think now I could call myself a gangster. After all, ever since I was a kid, I always wanted to be a gangster.

an extremely inebriated woman cuts off Acedia mid-sentence

im like..... Philly's OG.

she leans against a post

pretty shaw.. my gun can take out like half a bodyguard nao.

she giggles to herself

but like.. it don't even matter. Ronin's a big shot and his fucking musket takes like *hic* an hour to reload. 

she laughs so hard she vomits and passes out in it

_{....Bella_Bendiciona is  like... such a bitch tbh}

she continues to murmur to herself in the gutter

Miss_Niki was walking back to the HQ after a long hard day of going to funerals. The war had been exhausting, and the funerals even worse. She  was lost in thought when she tripped over something and stumbled. She looks down to see the offending thing she tripped over, and there lay @Madison_Maldiciona in the gutter in her own vomit. She cringed, because she hates vomit, but she couldn't leave Madison laying there. She heard her murmuring something about her sister Bella, but couldn't make it out. She reached down and helped pull Madison to her feet, wrapping her arm around her waist to help her back to HQ.