Walking through Downtown Detroit on your daily routine you notice a new business had opened up where the old coffee shop used to be that was owned by an Italian family. The building was wedged in between two businesses and you wouldn't notice it walking by if you weren't paying attention. It was small in stature on the outside, but once you made your way inside the building you realized it was quite the little diamond in the rough.

The lovely hostess met you upon entree, grabs a few menus as she walks you to your tables, and asks if you'd like any water as you take your seat. A small vase with various flowers sat at the table and drew just enough attention to keep it a topic of conversation. The waitress arrived with the water and welcomed you to the restaurant. She let you know that there was a special on the bagels with a new type of bread they had just started using and the soup of the day was tomato soup. You and your guest then ask the waitress for a little bit longer before you decide what your final decision were gonna be.

Boston Bagels & Bistro

• White Bread Bagel .25
• Whole Wheat Bagel .25
• Dozen Bagels .75
• Ham and Cheese Bagel .95
• Pastrami Sandwich .95
• Roast Beef Sandwich .95

Disclaimer: All bread used in Bostons Bagels and Bistro dough is infused with 100% pure Colombian grade cocaine.

Once you make your decision on what you plan to eat the waitress makes her way over just in time. You hear a man yelling in the back ground and it sounds like he is very involved in whatever it was he was doing? The waitress looked over her should and apologized to her customers. "I am sorry for the noise, but that is our owner and crime boss BostonGeorge". Always on the phone talking business or planning his nxt trip to Colombia to transport his famous secret ingredient for the bread he had made daily.

You finish your meal and are actually met by the owner before you leave as his makes his way over to the table. For as loud of a person he was in the back of the establishment he was not as scary as he was made out to be! He asked how the food was and if we had enjoyed our meal, even held the door open on the way back.

We are eager to return again, but that may be the bread talking!

WhiteGhost walked in. She already heard a lot about this place and was really curious how actually it looks like.

- Wow... it seems to be really nice place - she said to herself when the hostess was leading her to the table.

The bright, calm inside of building was perfect for meetings and conversations. But the most wonderful, at least for WhiteGhost, was the scent of just baked bread in the air. Even if you are not-as-hungry in your head just appear thought like "well, one sandwich would be just perfect now".

- I will take Roast Beef Sandwich - she ordered hers meal. When the waitress went away, WhiteGhost noticed BostonGeorge, who just came out from, probably, kitchen or stuff room.

- Hi! - she greeted with him. BostonGeorge seemed to be as busy as he nearly didn't noticed her.

- Oh, hi! - he stopped for a moment - How you like the place?

- I love it! It is really promising. I want to see how it will evolve with time! Do you have any plans or ideas for it?

George paused when greeted by a family member in WhiteGhost! She was the first person from the family to come down and try some of the food from her boss new business venture. He spoke with her for a moment, then turned and walked to the back. Reappearing with her sandwich plated, George took the seat next to to her after setting her plate down.

It is very good to see you, what brings home from your travels? I actually do have some plans for the place, even though we are a small establishment I am already getting calls from the west coast for large deliveries. I am looking to expand my services in a couple more locations and I am pretty excited about it. The nice thing about the bread is they just can't get enough of it!

Georges name gets called from the back kitchen and it sounded urgent. He wrapped up his conversation with WhiteGhost rather quickly and wished her a safe venture and thanked her for taking the time to stop by.

It was a sunny day in Detroit with just the right amount of chill in the air. Whoreable had told her bodyguard, Buster Cherry, his services would be needed that day and to meet her downtown at noon. When Buster arrived Whoreable was standing on the sidewalk smoking a cigarette. He could tell she had been waiting on him because there were two cigarette butts on the ground beside her. She smiled as he approached her, relieved to see she was in a good mood but wasn't quite sure what her plans were for the afternoon.

Hello Don Whoreable, I'm sorry if I kept you waiting, It seems you arrived early, what's the plan for the day?

Hello Mr. Cherry, I wasn't waiting long but I've had an exhausting morning making decision after decision. You see that store over there? I think I bought almost every dress in the place. I told the store clerk you would be stop in to pick up and carry the bags for me. They're all paid for, just pop in there, pick them up and then I'll take you to lunch.

Buster nodded before he disappeared into the store to pick up what must have been at least 30 dresses. He knew if his boss liked a dress she would buy every one the store had in stock, that way no one else in town would have the same dress. She started to do that after Kushnsm, Chun_Li and WhiteGhost arrived at an event all wearing the same dress she was wearing. She was absolutely mortified. He may be carrying 30 dresses but in all actuality there were probably only 6 dresses there that fit and she was going to wear, the rest were all duplicates that would be disposed of, that way Kush, Chun and Ghosty couldn't wear them.  As Buster struggled to exit the store with all the bags he saw Whoreable motion to him and point to Boston Bagels and Bistro. He hurriedly catches up to her and holds the door open so she may enter. Once inside she pauses for a moment to pluck a flower out of the vase on a table a couple was sitting at. She smiled at them with a sense of entitlement as she placed the flower in her hair and made her way to a table for four in the back. 

This table will do Buster, there's a chair for each of us and two for my bags. Take a seat, this is the boss's place. It's just a front, but you know BostonGeorge if his names on it he will make sure it's the best no matter what. I remember this one time when the baker delivered the rye bread and there weren't enough seeds in it according to BostonGeorge, he had his men stop by the bakery and practically drown the poor man in the bag of seed until he understood exactly how BostonGeorge wanted the bread made. I swear that man is such a perfectionist. We called him Seedy George for weeks, funny thing is, that was the name of his peep show club he was using to launder money. Seedy George's, I can still picture the bright red neon sign in my head. 

Whoreable and Buster were laughing loudly as BostonGeorge approached the table. George looked at her and shook his head smiling as he admired his flower in her hair. Once the laughter subsided he placed desert down in front of them, he moved the bags off the chair beside Whoreable and sat down before he began to speak.

Hi Whoreable... Buster, I see your protecting Whoreable and her dresses today. At least she's treating you to the best lunch in town. I see you both ordered the pastrami, excellent choice. Desert is on the house. This is Whoreable's favorite desert, chocolate cake with a dusting of Columbia's finest uncut blow. There will be no napping for either of you today, you'll just want to go, go, go all day long and into the night. 

Whoreable was addicted to George's chocolate cake. She ate her piece and half of Busters before she paid the tab and they got up to leave. Buster struggled to gather all the bags as Whoreable spoke to BostonGeorge on the way out. 

George, this place is fantastic. I always feel energized when I leave here and I'm never hungry for the rest of the day. It's amazing, you really should consider opening more so others can experience your unique recipes. I hope to see you back at Dharma later, maybe we can have cocktails if Toby didn't drink all the liquor at the bar. I hear Whackjob has a new pizza he wants us all to try and everyone will be there, it should be a fun night. 

Syndicate leaves the race track with his winnings in a silver briefcase handcuffed to his wrist. The black town car pulls around to the corner and arrives right in front of Syndicate. The passenger gets out and opens the door for Syndicate, he stands motionless as Syndicate takes a seat and then politely closes the door. As the gentleman makes his way to his own door another car flies up next to them. The passenger window of the shady car cranks down and muzzle fire flashes from the now open window. 

The polite, door holding goomba falls to the ground as his bullet wounds start a pool of his own blood in the gutter he lay in. The shady car double parks Syndicates vehicle. The rear window opens to reveal two more guns pointed in his direction. "Give us the case and no one else has to die" Says the man in charge of the attacking vehicle. Syndicate sighs and turns over the silver case to the other car. "You punks have no idea who you are messing with, do you?" Syndicate said as the other car speeds off. Syndicate pats the driver on the shoulder and hands him his pocket watch. "This is the best part of my job, count down from 7 for me". 

The car speeds through the stop sign at the next block as Syndicate and the driver watch from their own car. The driver starts counting down, "Seven" "Six" "Five" The driver slows his count and hesitates as he wonders what will happen when he hits zero. The pocket watch continues to tick away. "Four" "Three"

KABOOM!

The car leaves the ground as it explodes into a flame and smoke colored mushroom cloud. "You don't count fast enough. If it weren't for the pretty pyrotechnics on my end I'd be a little upset. But I guess it's not a movie, and I pay you to drive, not count. We should lay low, who knows if they are the only ones that knew about my winnings." Syndicate motions to a duplicate silver briefcase sitting next to him in the back seat. "That was the only bomb I had on me. We should go by the boss's new business. It's 3 blocks over. We'll have to leave our poor associate here - we are running out of time before the police show up. "

Syndicates car makes a U-Turn and quickly moves away from the explosion that has started making the sky turn an eerie black. The car arrives at Boston Bagels & Bistro. Syndicate steps out of the car to greet Whoreable who was making her way out of the establishment. She was staring at the sky and the clouds of smoke that was coming from 3 blocks away. Syndicate looks at her and removes his hat, "Car explosion by the horse race tracks. Nasty stuff." Syndicates driver steps out of the car, shaking with fear. Whoreable could tell from the look on his face that Syndicate was somehow involved in the explosion, but she knew better than to ask questions on the street corner in the Detroit Business District. Syndicate and his driver made it inside just in time to greet @BostonGeroge who was watching the smoke tower over the nearby businesses. He handed the silver suitcase over to BostonGeorge, "We hit it big man, your horse fell, but I bet on the underdog like you told me not to. Also, don't worry about the smoke, it's just a car fire a few blocks away. Seems to me that they encountered a pipe bomb like the ones I make back at HQ. Interesting stuff huh? Can I have a dozen bagels? I could use a pick-me-up."

Willow walked into the Boss's shop. She took a look around. It was... functional... functional and bland. Certainly not very Dungeon like, or pain room like. There was a woman to greet you at the door, and she wasn't even tied up or available to drink. Then to add insult to injury, she was offered water! Water! H2O. Di-Hydrogen monoxide. Did she look like a fish?

Willow flounced into her seat. Bloody bagels. What was wrong with a quart of fresh blood and the still beating heart of an adolescent male?

"Hmm... So hungry, what should I try now?" Shrooms thought.

He walked right past this little obscure shop in the middle of Detroit. The sign read "Boston".

The prospect of trying out some Boston food, even though he was sure it was the same as Detroit's, intrigued him. So there he walked, right into the middle of the shop. 

He looked at the menu. Boston, Bagels, Bistro?

For some reason, he noticed the small print right at the side. 

Disclaimer: All bread used in Bostons Bagels and Bistro dough is infused with 100% pure Colombian grade cocaine.

"Scum," he thought, "using my cocaine from the only plant in Colombia to feed the masses in Detroit."

He looked around. There was a man in shades, brimhat and decked out all in gangster uniform. Shrooms was sure. He was the boss of this establishment, the one who imported Colombian cocaine meant to drug the Colombians for Detroit use. It was him.

Shrooms looked at his pistol. It was a finely crafted Beretta, following him all the way from his Italian roots to the USA. It was his first love. Would he dare to use his finest, most expensively lacquered pistol today? Maybe he should not scratch the barrel with the loaded bullet already in the chamber. Maybe today was not BostonGeorge's time. He was about to spare Boston's life and not kick his lifeless body all the way back to Boston.

Then Fromage entered. 

Shrooms could not believe his eyes. It was Fromage! Shrooms looked at her - she hadn't changed one bit. Shrooms stared forlornly at that beautiful face. He wanted to tell her; that he'd finally made it in the big city, that he'd finally earned lots of money and he'd be able to go back to that small little countryside village in Breton and have her babies. But he could not bear to tell her... that he killed for a living. He sat down at one of the tables, turning away from the counter. Even though he was disguised, he knew that Fromage, after living with him for years, could see right through. Fromage would kill him. 

It was her turn to order, and her voice resonated from the front of the counter.

"Uhhhh..... Missum....... Get me one of those fine cheesy bagels." Fromage's voice was hoarse and screechy, like she had cocaine stuck onto the back of her airways. Shrooms could not believe it. She had 'cocaine throat'. 

It tugged at Shroom's heart, to hear such a beautiful voice become sore and croaky. He must leave.

He stood up. Bang. Bang. Two shots were fired.

One for BostonGeorge, one for Fromage.

He would never be able to hear that lovely voice saying, "Come, dear, let us make some pizza together." It was utterly ruined.

He ran out the door, hat covering his face. He was a true gangster now.

It was early in the morning and Mac had to catch the next flight out of Detroit. He was hungry and could go for a morning bagel before heading to the airport. As he leaves his hotel room he sees a sign that reads Boston's and goes inside. A waitress leads him to his seat and takes his order Mac looks at the menu before deciding what he wants.

"Lemme get a whole wheat bagel and if you got any some coffee."

His flight didn't leave until in hour so Mac had some time to spare and The waitress was a looker so It gave him a reason for sticking around a bit.

George personally served MacMcdonald his coffee as he seemed like he was in a hurry to catch a taxi and be off. George smiled as he handed over the food in a small bag and noticed a man talking to himself in the corner. I approached Shrooms with caution as I wasn't quite sure what was going on.

He looked out of place and might be harmful to others, I tried to listen to the muffled voice and it sounded like he said cheesy bagel. Before I knew it I was ducking for cover as shots were being fired. The man had covered his face as he ran out the door, running into it before realizing he had to pull the door to exit.

Hestia's stomach was growling when she walked through the business district in Downtown, Detroit. She clutched her stomach a bit to stop the noises, then spotted a little cafe across the street called Boston's. She did love a good sandwich, and she had actually heard good things about the cafe from her friend Whackjob.

She crossed the street, dodging cars in the evening traffic, and when she reached the door of the cafe, she pushed it open. She made her way up to the counter and said, after a brief glance at the menu, "Hello! I'd like to order a Pastrami Sandwich and a Roast Beef Sandwich please and thank you!"

The Greek walked into Boston's a joint that was once owned by his good pal George.  He missed his running buddy but shit happens and George was taken from this world way to soon.  He looked at the menu and ordered a beer with a ham and cheese bagel.   The Greek his pick of tables as very few people were in the joint.   He kicked his feet out and slowly sipped his beer as he waited for his sandwich.  The Greek didn't care about Prohibition he enjoyed his drink and that was that with that.  He looked as saw yesterdays paper on the next table so he reach over and took it.  He wondered when was the last time the staff wiped down the dam tables.  He started reading the paper and saw that Baby Face Nelson was gunned down by Melvin Pervis.  He shook his head as he thought he should have ask Nelson for a loan.  

His sandwich came and he took a bite he forgot that they heated it and the cheese was still piping hot.  He took a swig of his beer to cool the hot food down and then looked at the waitress as she forgot to tell him it was still hot.  He shook his head no and then went back to the story.  Once he read it completely he thought that Nelson dead a bad death.  He then went and paid for his meal and even tipped the waitress after all she was just a kid and shit happens to us all.