As I walk down the cold damp streets of Detroit I can almost hear the ghosts of the recent dead walking.  So many good people died at the hands of war.  These were the days of battle between men for power.  And I wondered, wondered why men like us couldn't kill 'the man' and work together.  There was more than enough money for all of us.  Respect was our code.  Respect me and I can share in the loot.

As I walked around the corner into the glistening lights i started to see the new movement of the streets.  The new faces of the mafia men and women.  A new refreshing lifeblood that kept this city alive.  Another day in paradise for a killer.