PropagandaReturns laid his hand over his dads corpse, while his tears reigned onto his face. "My father, I shall' redeem your name and become stronger." PropagandaReturns mumbled a prayer to himself, and walked out of the funeral home. He soon found himself in a bar, drinking away his feelings as usual. See, PropagandaReturns was the sort of the guy you'd love to meet and hang out with! But his drinking habits sometimes become a little to violent- and no one can handle his off-the-wall behavior. He turned himself around in his stool, where he saw an ominous looking figure standing in the doorway. He inched my hand to my waistline- as if he had a gun. The man stepped forward, wearing a mail mans uniform. His smile glared up to PropagandaReturns, almost seeming twisted. "Delivery from Serotonin!" Propaganda cocked and eyebrow, as he approached the odd man. "What is it?" He simply asked. "Delivery from Serotonin!" He repeated, as he whipped a white envelope from his bag. As soon as Propaganda grabbed it, the mailman was out the door and gone. Propaganda turned around peeling my thumb across the top of it, revealing the end of a check. His eyes grew big. He lifted the check up in one hand, seeing $50,000 written into my account. He looked around, as if he just stole the thing. Propaganda turned the check around, and saw Serotonin had left a note for him. "My business is a lucrative business- and I shall' help you prosper." He read out loud. Propaganda ran out the door, almost forgetting he was drunk off his ass! He fell face onto pavement- passed out. Was it the anticipation, or the intoxication that sent the beast into such a vegetable state?

PropagandaReturns laid his hand over his dads corpse, while his tears reigned onto his face.

"My father, I shall' redeem your name and become stronger."

PropagandaReturns mumbled a prayer to himself, and walked out of the funeral home. He soon found himself in a bar, drinking away his feelings as usual.
See, PropagandaReturns was the sort of the guy you'd love to meet and hang out with!
But his drinking habits sometimes become a little to violent- and no one can handle his off-the-wall behavior.
He turned himself around in his stool, where he saw an ominous looking figure standing in the doorway.
He inched my hand to my waistline- as if he had a gun. The man stepped forward, wearing a mail mans uniform.
His smile glared up to PropagandaReturns, almost seeming twisted.

"Delivery from Serotonin!" Propaganda cocked and eyebrow, as he approached the odd man.
"What is it?" He simply asked. "Delivery from Serotonin!" He repeated, as he whipped a white envelope from his bag.

As soon as Propaganda grabbed it, the mailman was out the door and gone.
Propaganda turned around peeling my thumb across the top of it, revealing the end of a check. His eyes grew big.
He lifted the check up in one hand, seeing $50,000 written into my account. He looked around, as if he just stole the thing. Propaganda turned the check around, and saw Serotonin had left a note for him.

"My business is a lucrative business- and I shall' help you prosper." He read out loud.

Propaganda ran out the door, almost forgetting he was drunk off his ass! He fell face onto pavement- passed out.
Was it the anticipation, or the intoxication that sent the beast into such a vegetable state?

Rufio walks past smoking a cigarette. Unsure if StewieG was mocking PropagandaReturns or just simply editing the speach he decides to just keep walking by

Rufio, I believe that Stewie was trying to help those that could not understand what Propaganda was saying as he spoke so fast without taking a breath...

Rufio looks back at StewieG

Sorry pal I was unsure of your intentions, but I do appreciate what you did here. PropagandaReturns' long winded run on idea was a little hard to follow and your clarification help tremendiously

Stewie took a look at Rufio

It's not in my nature to mock people, I was only trying to help those that had trouble understanding what Propaganda was saying.

Maybe I'm going crazy of course, but am I the only one who feels as if this guy just told us Serotonin paid for his services?

Achilles shrugs and continues to admire his reflection in a nearby shop window

You know, last night I had such a hard time listening to PR's original speech I missed it, but thanks to Stewie, I realize it *could* be interpreted that way and I have no clue what in the hell PR was talking about.

Unless it was a prank and that was fake money, I hope you agree, Achilles, that Serotonin would never pay anybody for any kind of service from a person in his crew.

We all know things around here work the other way around. It's PR who is filling up Sero's pockets.

Serotonin walks out to the streets and sees PropagandaReturns laying on the ground. He stops helps him up and looks at him.

"Boy you need to slow down and dust yourself off! I knew your father, he would have kicked your ass if he seen you rambling on all drunk."

As Propaganda dusted himself off Sero began to walk away.As he began to leave he noticed the envelope in his pocket, Sero stopped and than said.

"I see you got that envelope, it was from your pops. He wanted you to get a jump on things out here, make it a little easier for you to start your hustle. So lay off the alcohol and make him proud!"

Oh, now I get it, it was inheritance, why did I not think of that before, I think I am retarded. Anyway, good luck PropagandaReturns, I hope you stay alive.

No, William, you are not retarded. PR didn't realize what the money was for or who it was from.

Thank You for clarifying Godfather, it is good to know that I am not retarded.

leaps away singing"I am not retarded"

Agreed CrazyNine, I couldn't see that type of thing happening but thought it should be noted how the statement looked from an outside perspective.

Stares and listnens to the conversations

Erm, no one said "Thank you Stewie"
Well, CN said ..'thanks to Stewie'..., but that's just not the same ..