Xanxus stood at a shadowy street alley, taking one last swig from the bottle of beer before throwing it away. "Greetings, my friends. We have in this world many talented mafiosi. There are also people with the potential to be great, who failed due to blunders early in their life. I have one piece of advice for anyone trying to stay on the safe side of life: never do a bank heist with dumb muscle.

The Previous Day, 10:00 AM:

Xanxus walked through the busy streets of Detroit until he reached the usual meeting place. Fat Al was waiting for him as usual. "Fat Al? Typical," Xanxus muttered to himself. Fat Al was a sign of bad luck. Or rather, symbolified that the job would have bad luck involved. Xanxus wasn't superstitious, but a couple more jobs from Al just might change that.

"Here," grunted Al, stuffing a note into his hand and walking into a nearby diner.

"Charmed," said Xanxus drily as he read the note. A bank heist. By himself. The rest of the family busy. He stood there for a while, before something came to mind. He walked to the bar known as the Crimson Moon. A broken down place where only four people were sitting. Four pieces of mammoth meat with hair and mouths.

Xanxus stood at the entrance, waiting for their sharp response. A challenge, a threat, some kind of indication that they noticed a stranger. They remained deeply huddled in a circle. He coughed loudly. Still no joy. Xanxus walked up and kicked one in the shoulder.

"Shit!," he swore as a toenail cracked.

'I think I felt something behind me," said a thick voice,"hold on a bit guys." The man who had been kicked, Marty, looked back to see Xanxus hopping around in a most undignified manner.

"Oh, hey boss. Is that some dance you're doin'?" Swearing under his breath, Xanxus controlled his anger. "Time for some work boys, get ready."

He waited for the sharp jump to attention, for the fierce war cries as they reached for their guns. Nothing happened. he raised an eyebrow. Marty raised his hand tentatively.

"Uh...we were kind of talking about that new Birdy play boss. You know, the one with the birds."

Xanxus's eyes grew cold. Taking his gun out, he fired straight into Marty's forehead.  "Anyone else wants to talk about Birdy?" he asked. And then swore mentally. What kind of tough guy would say that?

The others shook their heads mutely. "Well jump to it, dammit!" And then, the parlor door opened. "This had better be good," snarled Xanxus, turning to the door. Behind him, three shaved gorillas jumped to it. The floor cracked.

As the bumbling buffoons power walk to their car, a large armored bank truck pulls up beside them. McKnighter rolls down the window and waves to the meat heads.

"Hey, just got back from the courthouse, the jury didn't think firing 18 rounds into a wanna-be gangster was bad. Hop in the back."

The rather large brutes start climbing their way into the truck, when McKnighter realized the truck was tipping! McKnighter shouts from the back,

"One at a time! Oh god, Xanxus, who are these guys?"

Xanxus raised an eyebrow at McKnighter. So the family had found someone after all. Atleast he wouldn't be alone in taking the blame if things went wrong. A fact that he neglected to mention to MK.

"They're gorillas from the California zoo. They were shaved with lawn mowers and a circus act taught them to wear suits. That answer your question?" He got into the truck. It was indeed tipping. It was a damn armored truck for God's sake. Meant to carry tons of gold ingots. Or atleast, it did ten years ago.

He jumped down and walked to the back. Joe, the last of the three, was still trying to squeeze in. Passers-by were starting to stare. "Oy, get down from there!" As they got down, Xanxus used the simplest language he could. "Jack a car each. In streets where there are no cops. Take care of the drivers. Meet me at the Detroit National Bank." he turned to get back into the car.

"Hey boss?" called Frank, another one of them."The what?"

Xanxus almost screamed then and there. Then he had a brainwave. "Go to Merv's Rib&Roast and park the cars there. Wait for me there." He almost sighed in relief as huge light bulbs practically lit up above the heads of the thugs.

He walked back to the truck with a cool, calm stride. He got in like everything was under control. Then slamed his head on his hands. "Rob the freakin' tightest security bank with those three clown acts!" he yelled. The truck started moving towards the bank.

McKnighter sighed, meat was the only fuel for animals. McKnighter looked at the time, and realized it was lunch time for Tom. Merv's was his favorite place. He at least finished middle school. Maybe he can relate to the bulking meats.

"Hey, I might know a guy who can help us out with our little 'misunderstanding'. Tom could help relay orders to him. He should be at Merv's now, eating his, or other peoples', hearts out. Once we reached the bank I could make a phone call to let him know."

McKnighter guessed they were about 10 minutes away from the bank, plenty of time for Tom to finish eating and get to.

"Your bodyguard, huh," mused Xanxus. "That would be a great idea. And I wouldn't have to go breaking toenails to get the attention of those goons. Er...forget I said that," Xanxus turned to the back and looked the the equipment through a slit in the wall. 

"Hm...not bad equipment. I count one bomb, seven guns, masks, the works. Tell me how many patrol cars are usually in this block again. I think it was seven. And all in the same radius of streets. We'll send one guy to a place which is at the just at the extreme end of their range and make him toss it. They'll all go in after him. That'll give us enough time to break into the bank. The guy I send will have no problem escaping."

"So that leaves the heist team with you, myself, Tom, Dan, and Frank. And...let's take the bullets out of the cartriges before we give guns to Dan and Frank, shall we? I don't want them pulling triggers by mistake. Looking at the, should be scary enough."

Xanxus pointed out to a fully filled diner. "There's Merv's. Why don't you go and get Tom? I see those three goons in the parking lot. They really do stand out." Xanxus didn't say any further, waiting for McKnighter to see the sight himself.

Three men were gathered around a few tables, crunched together to fit the great feast laid for three. The big boys eat meat and bones whole as they devour the meal. McKnighter watched in horror as Dan takes a slap of rib and downs half of it in one bite, bones and all. McKnighter quickly looking around for Tom.

"I can't find Tom, must be in the diner. We don't have time for this."

McKnighter takes out a shiny silver whistle and blows into it. High pitched, some can't even hear it, but they do hear the quake-like steps taken by Tom as he runs through the wall and does a front roll to where the truck was going. McKnighter slams on the brakes, but it was too late. Tom lower his shoulder and took the whole truck on. The last thing McKnighter remembers seeing clearly is a white air bag being deployed. Stunned, McKnighter opens his door and falls out, dizzy from the impact.

Xanxus winced, and as the door shattered, he dropped out of the seat just in time to avoid being crushed by the airbag. Considering the size of each bag, there was more danger of dying from suffocation than crashing into the interior of the vehicle itself.

"Oh, shit! I want professionals! I want people I can communicate with! Not gorillas doing the Huka dance dammit!" after swearing for a few more minutes, Xanxus eventually calmed down long enough to drag McKnighter into a standing position. "What-the-hell-was-that?" he asked, his breath coming out in gasps.

Oblivious of all the commotion, Tom stood calmly, staring at the truck as though wondering how it got there. Oh, screw this whole job thought Xanxus as he walked over to fetch Tom, Dan and Frank. Their cars were a mess of bones. "Right, quit chewing on those bones and get your gear from the truck. By that, I mean take a mask each and a gun each. Hide them under your coats and go stand near the entrance of this thing."

These quite complex set of instructions required several minutes for the goons to process them. Once they had gotten it sufficiently, they proceeded to do wha they were told. Xanxus walked to the van and took out the cartridges before handing them guns. Then he motioned Dan aside. Of the three, Dan probably had the greatest sense of direction, as long it the place in question was food-oriented.

"Right, your job is to take this thing that looks like a shell and take it to the Moe Icecream Parlor. Then, pull out this black thing and throw it at the place where a lot of cars are kept. Then, run all the way back to your bar. A side of chicken is waiting for you there." Saliva was already splashing as Dan rushed to do what he was told. Xanxus walked back to McKnighter.

"Five minutes for him to do it, fifteen minutes for the cops to clear up, two minutes to get back here once the alarm sounds. I'd give us twenty minutes. I'm sure Tom is outfitted so why don't we wait near the bank? It's one block away."

McKnighter shakes his head, he didn't know Tom could do that. Xanxus helps pick him up, and he puts his hat back on.

"Only a block eh? Lets take a little walk then, Tom wrecked our truck."

McKnighter hops on Tom and tells him to march forward.

Xarthex was passing by when he noticed a wrecked truck. Was the guy who drove this drunk or what? He was curious about the truck. On how it ended up there, he had no idea. So he went to the it for a closer look.

It was not your ordinary truck that you can see everyday. From the looks of it, you could tell that it was headed to somewhere probably doing a ''serious'' job. Unfortunately, someone destroyed by accident.

''I wonder what will they do now that the vehicle is destroyed?''