Nighthawk stepped into the office of AnomanderRake and instantly recoiled at the stench. He put his arm up to his nose and entered the fray, stepping carefully around empty bottles and discarded, half eaten, cheese steaks to the window, where he drew back the curtains. Light poured into the pokey office and the corpse on the couch hissed, recoiled and scrambled into the corner. He promptly threw up.

"Nighthawk? Is that you?" the creature croaked, before gagging.

"For fuck sake! What the hell happened here? We've only been in Philly for half a day man, look at the state of yourself!" He said as he made his way over to the poor wretch in the corner. 

"The cheese steaks. They were so delicious at the start, but then after a while......I don't know man.....they were....wrong. I'm pretty sure that last one wasn't beef at all. Rat maybe...or pigeon. I don't know."

Nighthawk scanned the floor, noting the several empty Absinthe bottles and rolled his eyes. 

"Yeah. The cheese steaks have gone bad. I can see that" he said said, bemused.

"It's all fallen apart Nighthawk! I can't fix it!!" Anomander sobbed, hunched over himself.

Nighthawk sighed, softening his voice and reaching down to comfort his humiliated friend.

"It's not that bad mate, certainly nothing we can't ...oh for fucks sake! Your talking about the damn cheese steak aren't you"

Anomander gave him a guilty look as he huddled on the ground, desperately trying to put the meat back into his fallen sandwich.

"Listen. Don Borya called. He's moved his operation to Detroit and he wants us to come and take over in Black Bottom. I think we should go. This city isn't good for you." Nighthawk said, pinching his nose in exasperation.

"Borya called?...  BlackBottom?... BlackBottom... I can do that! I WILL do that! Yes, Philadelphia is a silly place, lets leave immediately..."

(TO BE CONTINUED)

BillyBugs looks around the joint and wiggles his nose. Something smells funny, he mutters. What's with these cheesesteaks? I thought Philly was supposed to be the cat's cradle when it came to steak and cheese sandwiches. Maybe I should open a joint in Chicago for this.

He fingers the few dollars he has in his pocket and shakes his head. It's gonna take a lot of hard work to open a proper joint. 

Stopping by Anomander's digs in order to congratulate him, Mercedes can't quite process what she's seeing. 

"Anomander. Seriously?" she starts picking up trash and tidying up as she circles him like a hawk. 

"You most definately need a change. This city isn't..." 

She's forced to pause as her high heel has gotten stuck in an unmentionable viscous fluid on the hardwood floor. 

"Yeah this is no good for you. And for God's sake, don't blame THIS..." she holds up a very expensive, and very empty, absinthe bottle, "...for THIS!" 

With a disposable napkin she's found on the floor, she holds up the remains of a cheese steak sandwich. Smelling it, she cringes.

"That's not even real beef! It's some sort of fucking soy product!" Disgusted, she throws the sandwich to the ground and opens a window to rid the air of the stench of poor judgement and forgotten deodorant.

Picking up a sobbing AnomanderRake from the sticky floors of Anomander’s office, Nighthawk called for one of Anomander’s security detail to arrange a one way ticket to Detroit. Turning to a sprawled out Anomander in his arms

“You need to get yourself cleaned up, we’re meeting Don Borya as we touch down in Detroit and we can’t be having you show up like you are. You’re a fucking mess. Now get changed into something more presentable and meet me at the steps of this run down piece of shit in 5 minutes.”

As Mercedes_Kompressor threw the cheesesteak to the ground, Nighthawk made his way across the office

“Look, give AnomanderRake a hand cleaning freshening up. He can hardly tell his left from right these days, and fuck dealing with his whining while he’s inebriated. Once you’re done, meet us in Black Bottom. HoolZ and Trinity will give you more information soon, just make sure you’re rounded everyone up!”.

6 hours later

As Nighthawk and Anomander arrived in Detroit, Don Borya was already awaiting their arrival in a blacked out sedan. Walking towards the blacked out sedan, Nighthawk took off his brown fedora hat and reached out to shake Borya’s hand.

“It’s great to see you again old friend. It only feels like yesterday we were back in Chicago.”

Nighthawk raised his arm and lightly put his brown fedora back on.

“We had an interesting time in Philadelphia, didn’t we AnomanderRake?. I got to him earlier this afternoon and he had been buying those cheap as cheesesteaks on the corner, or whatever the fuck they were.”

As he saw Borya snigger and Anomander slightly rosy in the cheeks, Nighthawk made his way into the sedan and into the Detroit night they sped.

Anomander gave Nighthawk a hard look as they got into the sedan. Ok, maaaaaybe he'd lost the run of himself a little bit in Philadelphia but the cheese steaks were on special and the old German general he'd met in the pub had told him the absinthe was top shelf. He'd certainly seemed an honest fellow at the time, although now that he thought longer on it, both of them had been into double digits on the whiskey at that point. He made a mental note to string the fellow up if he ever found himself in O'Malley's Bar again.

He glanced across the back seat and found Mercedes_Kompressor looking back at him with a smirk on her face. Oh god! The memories of the previous day had begun to seep back. She'd had to lead him clean him like a newborn. He was fairly certain he'd thrown up on her at one point. "Well, that's it then. There's nothing for it. I'm going to have to retire and leave the business to Nighthawk. Maybe I could move to Canada? They don't have a mafia yet, do they?"

As Anomander made plans for his new life north of the border, the sedan rolled to a stop outside an old townhouse in the heart of BlackBottom. As they all filed out of the car, Anomander looked up at what would be his new family home. The building had fallen into disrepair over the last couple of years, clearly another victim of the Great Depression that had been gripping the nation, and the city, by the balls since the end of the last decade. It was clear that it had been a well built, beautiful building at one point, but now the shutters hung loose over broken windows, ivy had begun to creep up the face in place and here and there bricks showed the early signs of decay.

Borya stepped up beside Anomander and clapped him on the back as he lit his cigar and took a few quick pulls.

"What do you think?"

Anomander looked at him.

"Is it too late to pick Corktown?"

Borya grinned, tapping his cigar on the sidewalk. Reaching into his coat pocket he pulled out a large ring of iron keys and jingled them.

"I'm afraid so my friend. This is your new home now. Nothing a lick of paint wont fix"

Anomander snatched the keys with a sideways glance and slide the largest one into the wrought iron lock. After several failed attempts he threw his shoulder into the door and forced his way into the building, sending some pigeons up to the rafters with the sudden intrusion. Dusting himself off, Anomander stood and surveyed his new digs.

The outside of the building belied its relative good condition. Sheets had been used to cover the furniture and really, all it seemed to need was a dust and, as Borya said, a lick of paint. As Nighthawk followed through the door, Anomander turned to him with a big stupid grin on his face.

"We're home, Brother."

figure I step up and speak

I like to thank Mischief crew for allowing me to work for you guys, I won't let the family down, now if y'all don't mind I'm going to get back to this money .

lights cigar and walks off to collect money around town.

Mercedes shook hands with the men before taking her leave. She needed to get back to her side of town in order to keep her toddler from getting kicked out the the third preschool she'd been enrolled in. Apparently she didn't appreciate 'nap time' and had tried to burn the building down. 

"Here," she says as she tucks two season passes into his breast pocket. "Detroit Lions. Just stick to nachos and beer, eh? And congratulations!"

With that, she gets a ride from the driver to make a very large cash withdrawal in the hopes of pacifying a very angry preschool director.

Borya followed AnomanderRake into the building, stepping further in than the rest of the group, "Told ya it was alright, didn't I?" Borya walked over to the old fireplace found on the largest wall in the room. Running his hand across the mantelpiece, he flicked the dust off of his finger. "We all have to start somewhere, mate. Trust me.. Before you know it, you'll be a King in your own Palace."

Borya made his way over to Nighthawk, stopping just in front of him. As he looked over towards AnomanderRake, he spoke in a softer tone, "Look after him, won't ya? I heard things got bad in Philadelphia. I need our boy on form." Borya turned to take another look at Anomander before continuing the hushed tone, "I've got every faith he'll do well.. Just keep him off the cheesesteaks."

Borya pottered back over to Anomander, his eyes scanning the large room as he wandered. He took in a deep breath, the smell of wood still far outweighed that of the dust even after all these years. He reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out two envelopes. He offered the first to Anomander, "Here.. Here's a bit to get you rolling. It's not much. You know how bad for business war is, but it'll get you going." Borya tucks the envelope into Anomander's chest pocket before holding the second in front of him,

"That first envelope is for your family.. This second one is for you. Remember that night we blew everything we had on them horses? Yeah.. I know you remember it. The same night you ended up back at that girls house, turns out her huge boyfriend wasn't at work all night afterall," 

Borya chuckled. "You fighting on the steps outside, your meat jumping in all directions!" 

Borya chuckled a bit harder before continuing a bit more sincere, "I told you your luck would change one day. Well, now it has. You've finally made it, old friend. It's about time you took this and ran with it."

Borya waved the envelope as he spoke, "Here's a gift.. Just a little something, from me to you. Go drop by Ol' Steve's Stables in Downtown at some point.. There's a horse there for ya.. Risky Whiskey - pretty fitting, huh?" 

Borya chuckles, "It's yours. He's a beautiful stallion. He'll do you well. Look after him." 

Borya threw his arms around AnomanderRake, kissing him on the cheek and congratulating him. He steps back and looks proudly at the man in front of him before curling a huge grin. Shaking Anomander's hand, he couldn't help but feel a huge warm sensation surge his body as he knew the crazy kid had finally made it, for all his hard work and efforts.

Borya made his way toward the door with his security personnel, "Listen up, fellas.. You two got a good little something here. We've done all the hard work this last week, now you focus on your Family. Give them everything I gave you... Give them everything your Fathers gave me... and they'll do just fine. Good luck. We'll meet soon." Borya made his way out the door, down the steps and back into the Sedan.

The_Major gets word that his crew will have a new home, thoughts invade his mind about what this means for business. He would need to find a new way to collect some loans he had lent to people, some favors owed by others. But what bothered him the most was the idea of not being able to visit the restaurant downtown that sold the most delicious ribs he has ever tasted in his life. Before moving to the new city he decided to visit one more time, this time the ribs felt different... The barbecue sauce gave them a splendid flavor, almost as if it could melt in your mouth, that along with red wine made the last evening in the city a day worth living for.

After enjoying his meal, it was time to move, things had been taken care of by his boss, so he just had to transfer to the new Headquarters in Detroit. After arriving, he immediately knew work had to be done. All of this was not being paid by itself, reality is, "money makes the world go around" he remembered as his father taught him. So with a smile on his face, and happy to help he wrote a check and handed it to AnomanderRake and thanked him for showing his dedication to his family.

Things were looking good, a new beginning awaited and the excitement overwhelmed him and he thought "It looks like my father had a great run, he achieved almost everything he wanted. Hopefully I can do the same and more too."