Situated in the Downtown region of Detroit, a dimly lit sign loosely hangs from a wall reading "Greasemonkey's Autoshop". The building does not appear inviting or appealing in any way; the window to the office is filthy and the state of the building generally remains unmaintained. Well known local drug dealers appear to enter and leave the business regularly, along with the occasional genuine customer.

Upon entering the building - the office to the workshop appears to bare minimal furniture; a couple of foldable chairs adorn the corner of the office. The rest of the office is decorated with advertisements for automotive parts, oil and other lubricants. The male behind the desk in the office appears to be flicking through a pornographic magazine and is uninterested by your presence.

An extension to the office is the workshop, where there is a wheel-less Chevrolet being worked on in the corner by the autoshop mechanics. The rest of the workshop is packed full of tools, equipment and items labelled for sale; amongst the items are tyres, mufflers and paint. The mechanics wear branded overalls which are stained with vehicle fluid. In the opposite corner there is a back-room.

The door to the back room is wide open. A local thug from the area guards the door; he blatantly brandishes the handle to a six shooter in his waistband and maintains a stern look on his face. Behind him there are several more heavies and amongst them is "Anselmi" himself. Money can be seen exchanging hands between the men and the recognised proprietor of the business, who is wearing distinctive overalls with the business name written on the back. The thug guarding the door glares at you.

The male behind the desk gradually looks up from his magazine and abruptly blurts out, "Yeah? What do you want?"

A sharp whistle is heard from the workshop floor. Anselmi emerges from the back room of the establishment, his two most trusted men trailing behind closely. The two men surpass Anselmi and head for the garage door, heaving it open with ease; as the shutter opens the workshop is flooded with light from the gas-lamp headlights of the Cadillac. The vehicle is driven into the workshop and the shutter closes soon after.

Anselmi dips a hand into his coat and produces a thick wad of bills. He flicks through the wad briefly and splits it in half, handing it to the driver of the vehicle. He gives him a pat on the shoulder;

"You did good."

The driver of the Cadillac, a scruffy looking hood, snatches the money and departs the vehicle. The hoodlum and Anselmi shake hands briefly. Anselmi forces a weak smile, which quickly dissipates once the hoodlum heads through the front door of the office - departing. Anselmi whistles sharply and gestures to the newly acquired Cadillac;

"Start work on this A-S-A-P. I don't want this shit sitting in the middle of my shop for too long." he commands.

Anselmi tucks his hands deep into his coat pockets and glances at his two most trusted men, who are stood idly by. He jerks his head towards the exit of the establishment. All three of them leave the establishment. Presumably to find a new owner for their recently commandeered vehicle.