The skyline of motor city came into view as the rickety row boat turned its final bend in Lake Eerie. Lights glittered off the buidling and reflected off the lake. The city was some what dream like or maybe that was just because all the dreams the city had in it, but were closed off from the depression the country had sunk itself into.

Either one could be correct at this time of night, just a little after midnight. The streets were cleared from the unemployed rioters as they all shuffled into the nearest speak easy to push any spare change they had towards bartenders that filled cups full of illegal liquor. It wasn't the best way to escape from it all, but it was damn easiest.

It was about a half mile to the dock, but one could have started to smell the stink of burning rubber around three miles behind. The smoke stacks pumped out heavy black trails, but even through all the grit and grim there was something enchanting about the city of Detroit. Something hypnotic and LoveGun could drink to that, she could also hold up her gun to that and thats what she did. She held up her favorite stolen flintlock toward the city and shot.

"Well that was a bit dramatic." Ruckus said casually, his back facing the city and not noticing the feathers start to sprinkle towards him.

A bit dramatic is all ya have to say? I just saved your life! LoveGun spat.

All Ruckus did was give her that look, the look that she was being obnoxiously unreasonably and overly dramatic and quickly turning his attention to the dock directly in front of them. Pulling into the dock Ruckus looped the rope around the post. It wasn't until the man stood up did he realize he was splattered in blood and possibly a bit of brain mass on his head that he turned his attention from tying up the boat to LoveGun who was reloading her gun.

Woah!

"Why did you shoot the sea gull?!" Ruckus exclaimed in a ruckus.

It was jus' botherin me.

"It was bothering you?" He lowered his gaze and picked some of the birds remainders off of his shoulder, bringing it into his own view and looked at it in great detail as he decided what he was going to do about this matter.

I got a threshold, Rucky. I got a threshold for the abuse I'll take. And you're crossin' it. Right now my sails are turning against the wind. Turning into a strong north eastern wind, that's where you are. Just know, it's fuckin' dangerous to be turning the sail against the wind. It could tear.

LoveGun stood up and started to walk the down the dock, leaving the boat half tied up, but she was quickly stopped in her tracks.

"You're gettin' ready to blow? I'm a powder keg blastin' motherfucker, motherfucker! Every time my fingers touch brain I'm Superfly T.N.T., I'm the Guns of Navarone. I'm what Jimmie Walker usta talk about. In fact, what the fuck am I doin' tying up the boat? You're the motherfucker should be on parking duty. We're tradin'."

The city streets were half crowded with out of work laborers winding around the block, waiting to be rationed that day's bread. Ruckus and LoveGun ducked between sputtering cars as they crossed the avenue and delved deeper into their new hometown.

Why're you still draggin' that paddle? It'll do you 'bouts good here as that whore in Taiwan did for m'reputation. "Ol' Cottage Cheese Pants" ain't the type nickname you wants to be spread around.

LoveGun had the paddle resting lightly on her shoulder. With every few steps, she'd give it a whimsical bounce.

"What, you didn't want fer the boat t'be stolen, did yuh?"

Well... no, don't suppose. But I don't particularly wants t'lose any body parts in any nasty alligator incidents neither. What's this t'do with paddles?

"See, stands to reason that anybody stealin' a boat would need said boat to be stealable, right? Right. And how do you steal a boat, huh? You move it. And we was just movin' said prized boats usin' paddles, so obviousy if you ain't got paddles, you ain't stealin' no boats."

But you've only gots one there. If I was s'posed be luggin' th'other, you might probably shoulda told me beforehand.

"Oh Ruck," LoveGun pushed the words from deep in her throat, in an odd mix of condescension and compassion. "You've go no idea what a burden it is to be thinking, like, all the time."

Hmm. Is that why you're always limping, then?

"What?"

Ruckus just shook his head, by way of reply. Watching his scholarly acquaintance bickering with clueless passers-by whom she swore were eying her paddle, it was hard to believe that they'd finally found themselves in the kind of town where this sort of behavior seems extraordinary. In fact, just seventeen weeks ago, they had been sitting in the Swallows Inn in on the south side of New Orleans...

The air in the place, if it had been moving at all, would have carried with it the choking fog of cigar smoke and the noxious fumes of cheap liquor. A drunk wandered defiantly from table to table asking if anyone knew who had killed Jimmy so-and-so, offering no more useful information than that, and growing ever more irritated with the blank stares offered to him in return.

"Who?!" He shouted, having departed the company of one table and before collapsing onto the next with a similar interrogation. "Jimmy! Somebody killed him! And I wanna knowwwww whoooooooo...." The man growled at the upstanding young ladies sat at this particular spot, daintily quaffing quarts of bourbon. He righted himself once more, twirled and sputtered a bit before landing on the table at the time occupied by Ruckus and LoveGun. "I DEMAND TO KNOW WHO SHOT MY HOMIE!" He managed, as a last cry of desperation.

Oh yes, Jimmy, we know a 'bout him, eh Guns?

LoveGun had paid no real amount of attention to the stumbling drunkard, but she obligingly turned her attention briefly away from her mimosa.

"Who, what? Oh--oh yeah, yeah, good ol' Jimmy. Jimb-o. Sure, yep, whatever."

The drunk's eyes widened in what an only be described as surprised confusion. "Jimmmy!" He wailed. "They killed Jim-Jim..."

Yeah, and we know who done it, too.

Ruckus lied.

It was a tall guy.

"But kinda short for his height though." Pitched in LoveGun, always helpful for the wrong reasons. "And kinda beefy, without being fat."

Aye, and bald on top. Or maybe on the bottom, I can't rightly remember.

I feel good today, Rucker, we're gonna make some money you sees, then you know wha were gonna do? We're gonna go to that place and kill some land lovers, i be killing that bitch, and i be killin that bitch, I be killing ANYTHING THAT MOVES!

LoveGun craned her neck to the side and sneared at the man that walked past her.

Yo, ho, ho what do you think you be lookin' at, I'll kick your ass if ye make me. Shit yeah!

She removed her paddle from her shoulder and shook it at the man as he continued with his business walking down the street. LoveGun watched him for a few seconds before turning her attention back to the walk in front of her.

Ruckles I was jus' thinkin' 'bout somethin'. Do you be rememberin' Sally?

She paused turning her head a bit to catch her friend out of the corner of her eye.

Doesn' that fucker owe me ten bucks? You know, if we ever come across that little...Sally, imma rip off his fucking head, and take out his fuckin' soul. Rufus you'll remind me if he ever comes around won'ya?

Stopping in her tracks and taking a gander at the man next to her, who slowly kept walking.

Knuckles? She questioned politely, but her patience or lack of, got the best of her in the end and LoveGun ended up beating her fishmate upside the head with the paddle that had been sitting on her shoulder moments early. He fell swiftly to the ground. LoveGun grinned.

Where have ye been? Daydreamin' 'bout that cream cheese lass again?

LoveGun shook her head.

Like I said last week, just move on and just try to remember that burnin' pain she left ye. You'll never want ta go back to a woman like that again, nothin' like itchin' for a whole two weeks. And I'm not talkin' 'bout the fleas you and Sally had in your part of the barracks. Speakin' of Sally, have you heard anythin' from him lately? He still owes me ten bucks!

LoveGun loved bringing Sally up. One reason was to make fun of the kid, as he was a kid and didn't have his head screwed on tight enough or maybe his mum dropped him on his head one two many times, or he didnt have a mom, or all of the above. And two, because Ruckus hated Sally.

Do you remember when we stumbled a little to far north in the he who must not be named and Sally bein' from the nordic bantered on for half a day how to take care the ship, how to catch seals, how to melt snow into water, how to slay polar bears, but then once we be gettin to somethin' we needed help with he was no where to be seen?

I remember that, good ol' Sally. LoveGun paused. Now that you mention it Rufee, your right, Sally never aged. I think he stayed twelve forever. Well forever bein' as long as we were on the he who must not be named and we was on that ship forever.

Having suddenly found himself face down on the sidewalk and getting blabbered at about idiots long sine departed, Ruckus took the opportunity to observe a brief moment of reflection. The options presented to him were these: 1) he could continue to lay still and pretend to be dead until she rummaged through his pockets and eventually wandered away, or 2) he could stand up and nod affirmatively at everything she said until she finally shut herself up, thereby maintaining possession of the eighty-three cent, two bottle caps and half a bacon sandwich on his person.

Sure, sure... Yeah I 'member.

He brushed himself off, covertly patting his pockets, assuring their prized contents that they wouldn't be disturbed any time soon.

"Good," Said LoveGun for the fifth time, "'Cause he's still owin' me ten bucks!"

Well, y'could prob'ly go after it if it means s'much t'ya, but no fairs pickin' on a girl. And don't be givin' me no talks about a cultural rainbow what takes all types neither. I'm all fer being yourself as long as yourself and what that is.

That seemed to suit LoveGun, as she happily continued on her raving ways, completely oblivious to Ruckus' attention, or complete deficit thereof. This, he figured, gave him plenty of time to catch up on his daydreaming...

Having lost the drunk, finally convinced that a big ugly albino Mexican cross dresser had air-holed Jimmy and done all sorts of foul things to the corpse, they had turned back to the utterly important matters at hand-- getting Chevy Chased and picking fights.

Leggins, spat Ruckus, on his fourth crunk juice, Have a look over in that there corner, s'at the gal used'a slip around with Judge Holden?

Pickin' on a girl...

LoveGun mummbled to herself and continued to walk aimlessly down the street. After a few short steps a hotdog stand caught her attention and put Ruckus into a sudden awe of food, or at least that what it looked like as he stood there motionless, gapping at the hot food being served to business men on lunch break.

LoveGun had a few other things up her sleeve to get done today and tipping over the hot dog stand was not on the agenda. She quickly pulled Ruckus back into the crowded sidewalk and continued to cluck towards some destination that would bring her and shark bait some luck and fortune.

We'll, I been lookin' real hard and I been tryin' to find a job
but it just keeps gettin' tougher every day

LoveGun sang to herself as she marched down the sidewalk, she flipped a bottle cap and a piece of lint into a homeless guys hat as he sat next to the brick wall of one of the many banks in this city. Banks, it was like music to her ears.

Rucker Ruck put it in that Truck, how does you feel about banks?

She held out the s as if she was a snake, hissing with ideas floating into her head as fast as she thought them.

Ruckus?

It always seemed like she was saying the mans name way to many times then she should. What did he think she was? LoveGun turned around and looked at the drooling shark bait behind her.

Still thinking about those big, long hot dogs I see.

She filled the three foot gap that was between them and poked him in the eye. No response. LoveGun hoisted her paddle up on her shoulder and.....came up behind Ruckus with another drink in hand.

Leggins? Who you be callin' Leggins?

She shrugged, knowing he wouldn't answer until she answered and even then he still wouldn't answer. Men.

Ayes that is the girl. Judge did always pick the prettiest little ladies. What was her name? We has met her once and even if we never did Judge spoke a pretty picture of her.

LoveGun chewed on the inside of her lip.

Cracker Jack Mama? Voodoo Tape? Becky? Michelle? Andy? No, no, Rutter, none of those names be right. It was sumfin simple, but fancy.

She peered down through the crowd at the little miss standing over at the bar.

What was her gosh darnet name?

Sugartits. No wait...

The bar seemed to pause as two thirds of the girls in the place turned to answer to their nickname.

Kates, I thinks. Odd seein' her 'round.

"Yeah," LoveGun said, eyeing the place for people to beat, "She has let herself go a bit. But looks like she's come up in the world."

Came somewhere, anyhow.

Kates, so far unaware of the two filth-baggers sizing her up from across the room, sat relaxing in a mellow corner of the bar, surrounded by her entourage, coddling a Tom Collins. Finally satisfied with her male friend for a moment, she nudged him aside and resumed drinking her bourbon.

Having corralled a passing drinker (not that one, a different and completely unrelated one) to help contextualize the situation so that the plot may continue on to more exciting things, our two heroes learned that Kates was now heading up her very own criminal empire in the city of Detroit. They, being entirely self-absorbed and interested in expanding their bank accounts which, being marginally competent criminals, far from home and vastly out of touch with the times, they did not have. But there was room yet in the ripped open mattress that would hold their ill-gotten gains, had they actually gained anything ill-gottenly as of late, immediately recognized an opportunity and approached the attractive mob boss.

Why, erm... excuse us, miss...

"Look, $25 if you wanna touch 'em, and you gotta pay up front. Otherwise, get lost, I've got shit to do." Came the flat reply, without so much as a glance.

LoveGun and Ruckus glanced at each other momentarily, not sure what to do next.

Ma'am, I'm 'fraid you don't un'erstand...

Finally allowing the bothersome strangers to enter her attention, Kates winced slightly, registering disgust before speaking again. "What I don't understand is how you two an walk around looking like that when there's so much opportunity around you. I mean, I get that there's a depression and all, but damn. You look like cheap Portuguese piano players."

"Piano?!" LoveGun said, lifting her paddle menacingly, "Get her!"

"Oh, honey," The patient woman sighed, "Come shopping with me for an afternoon, you'll feel better about yourself, and you may even grow a bit as a person."

There was silence for a few blank moments.

"Get her!" LoveGun rallied again.

LoveGun lunged herself forward, her paddle clenched between her hands ready to wack a mole. The first body guard hit her straight in the chest, throwing her backwards and onto the ground. LoveGun sat up up leaning on one hand behind her, with the other she grabbed a chair and balanced herself. There was a sort of savage look in her eyes as she neared the group again and as soon as she came close enough to them she attacked again. This time going straight for Kates' long dark hair.

Once again she was thrown to the floor accompanied by a practiced fist to the face from the Don. A bit of blood dribbled from her nose, Ruckus threw a tissue her way.

"She's got a likin' to pianos, nothin' 'gainst you."

He pronounced to the large men who purposed themselves of guarding one of Detroit's finest captains. While Kates herself slid out of the booth she was sitting in and pushed the guards away, leaning over LoveGun.

"If it's just pianos you want, there's one over there at the bar. If it's me your interested in, I suggest you find an easier target- or your next try might leave you with more than a busted nose."

LoveGun swooned as Kates words sunk to the bottom of her own stomach. Kates took a seat again and waited for her to make a decision. LoveGun picked herself up of the floor once again, tail between her legs and wondered hesitantly back to Ruckus' side.

All's we wanted to know what if you was the one that had a few outin's with Judge?

There weren't many judges around, specially on any that these folks associated themselves with closely beyond business. By the expression on Kates face and the look in her eye LoveGun knew which Judge she was talking about. A great smiled scurried across her lips.

Knews it was you! Ruckles I tol' ya it was her!

Behind her Ruckus started to argue that he was the one that saw her first, but she ignored him.

Miss you be as pretty as the Judge had painted you up to be. An honor meetin' ya.

She looked behind her, Ruckus was still mustering about how he was the one that had spotted Kates, but then he saw LoveGuns eyes boggling out of her head. The body guard must have hit her pretty hard, she was a bit star struck and nothing like herself. This is when he decided to step in.

Lady... er, Kates. Erhm, Miss Kates. Lady.

Ruckus glanced around at the gradually tightening ring of human gristle as Kates's guards had stepped into place around them.

How are you? How are the folks?

LoveGun cut a sharp look his way. They really weren't much for socialization, she knew, but surely he should be able to do better than this. Kates sighed, unimpressed.

"Ah..." LoveGun tried to explain "His mind ain't'n too great, y'know. Tell ya, one time we was on a bender and the rum run out, he drank half a lantern'a kerosene 'fore he noticed."

"Well.." Kates gave a lift of her eyebrows in a politely condescending 'isn't that something' sort of gesture. She lifted her glass from the table and downed the remainder of her drink in one confident gulp and paused thoughtfully, folding the edge of one lip under the other to collect the last drops of booze. "What do you want?"

We want t'makes you an offer.

Ruckus piped up before LoveGun could stop him.

"Oh good lord," Kates exhaled in the logical equivalent of a broken back. "What could you two idiots possibly have to offer me? I..." She breathed deeply, catching back up with the demure, ladylike side of herself. "Sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to call names, and I certainly didn't mean to imply any sort of mental shortcomings on your part. You're... you're not stupid, okay? You just... you say incredibly ridiculous, fucking STUPID things. I... grahhhhhh!"

Well, uhhhh, we could offer you some...

He glanced once more at the piles of sinew aligned around him.

...Added protection. I mean, y'know, there's obvious some deeply disturbed people prowlin' about what would like nothin' more than t'clock yer timecard, so t'speak.

"Hi!" Lovegun punctuated with a wave.

"Huh." Kates slumped.

"Listen, 'tween yous 'n' us," LoveGun leaned in closer to Kates, "we could do lots for ya in yer particular... area of operation. See, we's pirates."

Kates coughed, her esophagus crammed full of obsurdity. "Fucking pirates?!"

Hey hey! Don't go spreadin' that round. Ain't strawberry jam, y'know.

"Alright," Kates was wrestling with herself(with or without hot oil), her rational side wanting to tell these people to bug off, but her curious and risky side wanting to hear more. "Fine. Show me something."

If you were to wander into the shipyard that day and weave your way around through and between the cargo ships, past the dry docks, out to a grimy peer that had been temporarily closed for at least a decade, and shimmied down to a small iron catwalk just above the water, you would have found, tied to a rusty broken bolt, a small wooden dinghy, proudly flying the Jolly Roger.

"'Ere she is!"

"Oh," Kates said, in a moment of grand realization. "You're joking, this is a joke. Are you Jack Benny?"

No, what? I sold bennies to a guy name of Jack once, though. And I happen t'think we'd make fine, uh, businessmen.

LoveGun jabbed her elbow into his side.

Peoples.

Kates couldn't even blink. "Business people? You're pirates! And not even good pirates, look at your goddamn boat!"

"Not good pirates?!" LoveGun interjected. "I'll have you t'know, lady, that we's excellent pirates!"

Yeah, 'tis true! Just this week, in this here fine vessel, we've commandeered, two sea lions!

"And a turtle!" Added LoveGun.

And a turtle.

"Big turtle!" She continued.

It was big.

"Really big turtle!"

Well... pretty big, anyway.

"And a taco cart in Veracruz."

And a taco cart in Veracruz!

"A taco cart in Veracruz?"

Yeah! 'Member in Mexico tha' lil' port town. You were tryin' to get a wifey but gave up afta you found those otha two wenches and a wee lil' pig. Ye wen' on f'r days and days 'bout how tha's all a man needs in his own life.

"A pig?"

Ye, a pig.

LoveGun scrunched up her face and held out her hands making a the size of a small box gesture.

'Bout this big and it went oink! oink! all the way home.

"Are you su...."

Ruckus started to argue again, but Kates quickly cut him off waving her hands madly in front of her face.

Wha's the pro'lem mum? You be chokin' on som'thin?

"Now how is this added protection going to work out with a turtle and a dingy."

When Kates threw the words dingy out there LoveGun became deeply offended, the guarded expression on her face showed so. Ruckus continued for the two of them.

"It's wha's we be doin' fer ya, not the turtles and the dingy. See it's our occupation of sorts."

Kates starts to brush her shoulders as if it were cool in this New Orleans humid early evening weather.

"I should probably get going, I have other, farther away business to attend to. I'll leave you with your...ship."

As she turned to leave, she did look back quickly.

"If you by any chance do end up in Detroit, which I don't know why you would ever want to leave a fine city like this, you may contact me and I'll set you up with a job. We'll see how things go from there."

....

WAKE UP!

LoveGun screamed at the top of her lungs. She had been kneeling over Ruckus' body for five minutes screaming this into his ear. While Ruckus who had been plopped on the curb had been dragged all through Detroit unconscious.

She yelled again, tugging at his ear, stretching it out, making the ear canal bigger hoping to wake her deck mate up. Finally, one of Ruckus' eyes popped sharply open, but all he did was grumble, twist his body and off the curb he went.

We be here!

She announced, spreading her arms open and twirling with an umbrella.

"Is it raining?"

What?

"Is it rrrraaaainnnninnnggggg?"

No

LoveGun replied looking at him strangely, obviously annoyed.

Why would it be rrrraaaaainnnninnnnggggg?

"What happened to that paddle of yours?"

Stop askin' so many questions.

LoveGun demanded harshly at him while hopping up a cupple of steps and opening up a big glass door. In frosted letters "The Beauty Shop". As the door swang open a large black women stopped in her tracks, a pair of scissors in one hand and a can of hair gel in the other. LoveGun pointed a finger at her.

One moment please ma'am. I have got some busi'ness I need to be finishin' up.

She turned her attention away from the women and back to Ruckus who was still half on the curb.

I dragged you for seventeen blocks, down 232 steps, into the Masonic Temple, around a few bridges, up the Statue of Liberty, three miles in a cab and two more blocks and you can't be even gettin' up off the sidewalk by yourselves?

LoveGun gave him the eye and swung her body into the Beauty Shop. She was immediately greeted by the women in the doorway.

"Now who do you tink you are coming into MY beauty shop with your scruff, your dirt and your homeless?"

She struck out a finger in Ruckus' direction.

"I can't believe this is happening to me on my last day, right before my Last Holiday!"

The women threw her hands up into the air (like she just didn't care_, scissors and gel dropping to the floor. She started to walk to the back of the salon, LoveGun followed with her umbrella still open.

"Do you even know who I am?"

LoveGun looked at the women like she was crazy. The women's over the top dramatic attitude was making her go batty. She looked at the women like she was the Kraken and shook her head.

"Well why don't we Bring Down the House with that answer! Will someone please get me my Brown Suger and Juice. With all this crazy talk I will need to take a break."

Ruckus came up behind LoveGun it was like Scary Movie three. LoveGun shot three feet up into the air.

"You two are just Living Out Loud, we might need to call you a Taxi because Queen Latrifa can't handle you anymore!"

Who be Quee...

LoveGun started, Queen Latriiifak sat with her finger pointed towards her, her mouth gaping open ready to reprimanded the girl, but Ruckus took the punch line right out of the two of them.

"Hey isn' that Kates ri' over there?"

He casually nodded towards the back where Mob Boss Kates sat, her left hand mysteriously and conveniently covering her face.

Kates!

LoveGun shouted.

"Kates!"

The voice rang out through the beauty parlor and the older woman turned, curious as to who would be calling her. A member of the Renaissance? Jack? A visitor of The Seven Deadly Sins? Her mother, back from Florida? No. It was the fucking pirates.

And here she thought she'd finished with those wackos for good down in Nawlins. How the hell did they get here- the Northwest Passage? Didn't matter. Here they were.

Kates strode deliberately towards the entrance, gently forcing the salon owner aside as she raised an eyebrow and evaluated LoveGun. She seemed to be the brains of the operation. Which wasn't saying a hell of a lot, as Ruckus was staring at her, somehow smiling with his mouth wide open. Still, if they'd made it here from New Orleans they couldn't be completely inept.

"Oh hey... you two. I'm so... so glad to see you. Because something just came up that requires immediate action."

LoveGun slapped Ruckus on the back of his head and adjusted the strap of black cloth wrapped around her head.

"I reckon if thars work ta be done then we're the ones'll do it for ya, mum. We's well trained in all the piratin' arts, ya know. Now what do ya need- turtles or sea lions?"

Ruckus stared intently at Kates, desperately awaiting the answer.

"Uh... neither"

Ruckus looked crestfallen.

"What I need is you to go pick something up for me... away from here. It's my..."

Kates thought frantically for an errand to separate her from the pirates, as they were starting to draw a crowd on the sidewalk. Until she struck on a brilliant solution. The Cleaning Castle was a laundrymat run by the Russians. It was also one of the biggest drug fronts in the city. Ivan Dragoyavich, who owned it, had 1.2 million dollars worth of heroin stashed in there, newly arrived from over the Canadian border. Kates was considering making a play for it, but had needed a distraction to draw the attention of the 15-20 guards that were constantly patrolling.

"Laundry. I need you to pick up my laundry. Head right over there and don't leave until you get my red dress back. Raise all the hell you have to- just a bunch of wimpy Russians that need some old fashioned anger to motivate them, right?"

LoveGun and Ruckus looked at each other and nodded. As they promised success and noisily made their way down the sidewalk, Kates waved after them and smiled.

"Have fun storming The Castle!"