It was suppose to be a simple hit. Nothing too hectic. But who are we kidding? This is the fuckn life we live. Well, most of us. Or maybe just some of us, as some seem to enjoy the quieter hands off kind of thing. The more business minded approach, or so it seems. Who knows, everyone was different and they all had their own ways of taking care of business.

Axel, was more hands on. As the car pulled up outside the café on the Summerlin strip, the gun toting gangster pulled himself out of the window on the opposite side of the car. With him, Betty, the one and only. She loved a good yelling, a good verbal assault. Her words were encased in steel, and much more violent than your average broad. Her rants left little open to a return conversation, and this would be no different.

Bullets littered the busy strip in the equally busy district. It was suppose to be a simple hit. Yet given the circumstances, and Axel's hot Irish blood, he squeezed hard on the trigger and aimed for a duo exiting a local coffee house. They were suppose to be on the lam, hiding, away from the limelight and eyes of Slash's little operation. Yet here they were, fucking about out in the open. Not what you do after the boss says to keep the fuck out of sight.

But again, a simple hit, turned ass up. Why? A combination of hot headed masculine aggression and the ease of the manner in which it were being carried out. As Axel aimed and pumped lead into the vicinity of the pair, WoonDa slipped out of the passenger seat door and fired off multiple gunshots. Either way, they were both going down, and the combined effort made that a definite fact.

After a few seconds of hellfire WoonDa re-joined the hit squad inside the car, slamming the door shut behind him. The car sped off, with Axel ducking back inside the window a few blocks down from the now crime scene. A simple hit, sure, but one hell of an adrenaline rush, as two ex Summerlin workers lay dead on the sidewalk.

*Face palms*

We said no fukin' names in public...

"It's fine, they don't even know it was us."

Axel flicked closed the next days paper, having read the headlines "Summerlin Gangster Hit". He threw the paper on the dashboard of the ford pickup and started the engine. WoonDa had been picked up for questioning by the cops regarding the incident, and Axel had made his way over to pick his nervous ass up.

Whilst waving to a pair of policeman who just exited the cop shop, Axel continued talking to WoonDa, who was next to him in the passenger seat.

"They questioned you, you told them to eat a fat dick. Problem solved. We'll get some grease under them and they'll be as they always are, just doing their jobs. Relax friend. We have pockets lined and people on the payroll. You've been sober too long."

As the car pulled out of the local jail house, Axel turned on the radio. A little bit of music always helped calm the nerves, that and the stiff bottle of whisky they would share back at Ted Vesley Music in Summerlin.

Chillin' and wavin' on the music, WoonDa said:

Axel, I just meant you ruined my Teddy Bear reputation. I even hadn't time to meet Bubba to reverse roles, you were too fast.

Axel smirked. He usually wasn't one to show a lighter side, yet WoonDa had a way with words. The cheap pickup truck pulled up to a set of lights. A women and a small child walked past the front of the car, the kid swinging his mothers arm enthusiastically whilst skipping along.

"I'll be sure to let you two get more cosy next time."

WoonDa was careful about innocent by-passengers, and by-passers. No witnesses involved in the story. Even if he wasn't that innocent, he took care to preserve innocence of innocent people. You see, he had even moral problems and remorse with less than 7 days mafiosi. So he was glad to avoid unnecessary deaths anytime. Coz he knew the breath of his girlfriend Death even half a corpse length away from his nose had a bad smell. Because of that he tried to avoid her for a reason, he also did his utmost for those around to meet her only in absolute necessity.