“Lucius, for God’s sake, just walk away.” Camp pleaded with his old friend. “You are single handedly making House a Blitzyonaire!” House was the financier of all the casinos north of Guatemala. House, or John as he was usually referred to, was being made a very rich man tonight.

“I’ve got a system.” @LuciusSweet said, a grin widening on his face. “It has literally never failed.”

“Have you ever used it before?”

“No! That’s the beauty of it! It’s entirely unknown.” Lucius said manically. He made his bet, blew on the dice, and rolled.

“John wins.” The croupier exclaimed.

“That can’t be… I’m ruined!” Lucius slumped into a heap on the floor. “@GlennCullen will never forgive me. Or @FitzChivalry’s fat mother. I was meant to be taking her out this weekend.”

“I’ll take care of Fitzy’s plump mother, man, don’t you worry about her.” Camp said, suddenly delighted with the nights conclusion.

“You’re a true friend Camp. A true God damn friend.”

Camp picked Lucius up off the ground and dusted him off.

“Let’s get you a dreadful Disappointment Burger so you can wallow in self-pity with a full stomach at least.” Camp said kindly.

“That would be awful.” Lucius said, his old familiar grin returning to his face. “Let’s do it.”

They hopped in the waiting car and sped off.

“Whose car is this?” Lucius asked inquisitively. He was too inquisitive for his own good some times that man. Asked too many questions.

“What? I thought it was yours…”

“Oh well. Some poor sucker is going to be furious when they leave the casino tonight!”

The old friends laughed and drove off into the night.

*** Outside the Casino ***

“I’m not sure I can believe what you’re telling me… You’ve lost my car?”

“No sir” The valet squirmed. “No, not lost exactly, it was stolen.”

“Right. I see. Brilliant.” The man said. “You see it’s just… it’s just… I gave you a really big tip to make sure my car was waiting for me when I left the casino didn’t I?”

“Y-y-y-y-yes sir.”

“And you let it get stolen didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“I’m almost embarrassed to be saying this, but do you know who I am?”

The man was pale. Tears pooled in his eyes.

“Yes, sir. You’re Don @Disorder.”

“So then you know what I have to do now don’t you?”

The tears broke free and dribbled down the valet’s face.

“Please don’t kill me sir, please! I’ll do anything. I’ll literally do anything. Just please don’t kill me.”

Disorder looked shocked. He knew he had a bad reputation but he didn’t know it was this bad.

“I’m not going to kill you, you idiot. I’m just going to give you a terrible review to your manager. Why did you think I would kill an unarmed, unaffiliated man in the middle of the streets, entirely unjustly and uncalled for given the ‘crime’ you have committed?”

The Valet looked confused. “But whenever you talk in public, whenever you address the public at large, a small woman shouts out from the crowd that you’re a terrible person building your empire on the back of the little people. She shouts that you kill indiscriminately and for no good reason. That you control people above your rank. And that you’re basically an anus. If you pardon my language.”

God damn it. “Look son, no matter how straight you are with people, no matter how hard you work at making sure you are open and honest, there will always be those that prefer the conspiracy theory.” He didn’t blame them. They’re more interesting than the truth the majority of the time. “And I will overlook you calling me an anus young man, just this once.” Disorder smiled and looked at his watch. “Shit.”

Making a mental note to utterly rinse this young valet to his manager, later Disorder broke into a sprint. He was going to have to run the 13 miles back to the United HQ. Plans were afoot.

*** Disappointment Burger ***

“You boys sure are a whole lot of fun.” Mrs Chivalry said, coquettishly licking her lips and smiling.

Mrs Chivalry, FitzChivalry’s fat mother, was covered head to toe in Disappointing Sauce. No one had asked her to do it, she just did it. She was such a nymphomaniac. How Fitzy was an only child was anybody’s guess.

“Err, we’re probably going to have to get going now Mrs Chivalry.” Camp said, exhausted and satisfiedly.

“What?? No! I’m not even remotely sated yet.” Mrs Chivalry became irate when she couldn’t have sex for more than 4 hours at a time.

“We’re exhausted Gladys. We can’t go on any longer.” Lucius said, exhausted and satisfiedly.

“If HighPitchEric were still alive he’d be able to show me a good time!”

“Well he’s not Gladys. He’s dead. And part of me thinks he would have been able to run away from his assailant had you not shattered his pelvis into a million pieces the night before.”

A phone started ringing.

Gladys Chivalry, Godfather Chairman FitzChivalry’s rotund nymphomaniac mother, started to sob.

“I just miss him so much.”

“We all do. He was such a handsome boy with a normal voice.” Camp said kindly.

A phone continued to ring.

“Come on, let’s get you home.” Lucius said. And with that, they all walked, exhaustedly and satisfiedly, to the stolen car.

The phone was ringing as they drove away.

*** United HQ ***

Disorder slammed the phone down.

“Where the shitting bollocking fucking tits is Camp!?” Disorder screamed. “He knew full well what was happening today. He knew we had to do something. He KNEW he had a part to play.”

@SweetNothings, @MickDundee and @Lillith all sat staring at their Don, afraid to move.

“What the cocking fuck am I going to do now?”

SweetNothings spoke. “We go ahead with the plans boss. Camp or no Camp. He’d only have slept through it anyway.”

MickDundee agreed. “You can do it on your own anyway.”

“Right, fuck it then. Lillith, please start your car for me, mine… isn’t available.”

“My pleasure Boss.” Lillith said.

*** The stolen car ***

“You know what we should do Lucius?” Camp said, excitedly. “We should have a carnival!”

“That is an absolutely genius idea! Let’s do it.”

“I’ll call up a load of girls and get costumes and you get the booze. We can meet up back at the United HQ!”

“Outstanding!”

Camp dropped Lucius off at his car and they split up.

*** Outside the GF of Paradise’s HQ ***

“Let’s just bust in there and lay waste to those fools.” @Wacktard said. “It’ll be like taking candy from a baby!”

Wacktard knew what he was talking about. He’d taken candy from 32 babies in the last week. There was absolutely no worries with it. He’d tried teaching @pyscochef the technique but he was too terrifying to look at. The babies started to scream before he’d even got to the candy.

“No, this needs to be done with style.” Disorder said. “I think I can just get him to retire. I’ll talk to him. Alone.”

“Well if you think that’s for the best…” SweetNothings said unsure.

“I do. So I’ll just go in.”

“Make sure you’re strapped though boss.” @DotBoom said, handing over a pile of extra ammunition. “You never know if you might need it.”

Disorder took the bullets and thanked @DotBoom. Man literally had bullets overflowing from his pockets. The guy was a 1 man ammunitions factory.

Disorder exited the car. Opened the gate. Walked up the path. Knocked on the door, and was ushered inside the GodFather of Paradises’ HQ.

“How do you think he’ll get on?” Lillith asked.

“I’m sure it will be fine.” SweetNothings said. “He’s very diplomatic when he needs to be.”

*** United HQ ***

The United HQ was beautifully decorated from floor to ceiling in fantastically coloured sashes and art work. The main table had food, booze and cocaine spilled all over it. This was going to be some fucking party.

“CARNIVAL MOTHER FUCKERS!!!!” Camp screamed!

“We’ve outdone ourselves this time. This looks the bees fucking tits!” Lucius shouted over the music.

“DISORDER IS GOING TO LOVE THIS SHIT!” Camp shouted, “I wonder where he is?”

*** Inside the GF of Paradise’s HQ ***

“Please, sit.” The Godfather of Paradise motioned for Disorder to sit down. “We’ve been meaning to catch up with you for some time.”

“Thank you.” Disorder sat.

“What is it you wanted to speak to me about?”

“Well.” Disorder swallowed hard. The old man wasn’t going to like what he was about to say. “It’s about your retirement.”

“My retirement?” The aging Godfather spat the words out. “You’ve come to my house, in my district, and you’re asking me to retire are you?”

“I’m saying that your influence has waned. Your allies are all dead. We are the future of Paradise. The Farseers and their affiliates are the future of Las Vegas. Your time has been and gone. Retire at the top, live out the rest of your life in Paradise, or in fact wherever you like. But you’re done.”

“The fucking gall. I almost have to commend you for your testicles. They must be as swollen as ostrich eggs for you to ask that of me.” The Godfather scoffed. “How about we retake control instead? How about my allies kill you and your friends, and their friends?” The Godfather motioned to his RHM and guns started to be pulled.

Disorder threw himself to the floor and time slowed.

‘Fuck. Keep your head down and start shooting’ Disorder thought ‘ The guys in the car will hear and run to my aid. Maybe Camp will show up and help. Just stay alive. Stay the fuck alive.’

Disorder had his gun out before he had hit the floor. Two men lay dead at the old Godfathers feet. Gun shots rang out.

*** The car outside the GF of Paradise’s HQ ***

Music was playing loudly in the car.

“On the Good Ship, Lollipop, it’s a sweet trip to the candy shop.” SweetNothings sang.

“Where bon-bon’s play, on the sunny beach of peppermint bay.” Wacktard joined in.

Gun shots rang out, but no one heard them.

*** The United HQ Carnival ***

Hundreds now swarmed around the HQ, drinking, eating and snorting. Everyone was having a great time.

“I’m having a great time.” Lucius said, emphasising the point.

*** 30 minutes later outside the GF of Paradise’s HQ ***

Disorder staggered to the car. Blood pouring from multiple bullet wounds. He hammered on the door.

“Let me fucking in now and let’s go.” He screamed.

“Hey boss. What’s going on? How did the conversation go?” Sweet Nothings inquired politely.

Disorder looked at his bleeding appendages, his bruised face and his torn clothes. “How do you fucking think? They’re all dead. I killed them all.”

“What?? There were 69 people in that building!!” Lillith asked. She had always been good with numbers.

“They’re all fucking dead. Drive.”

The crew were stunned into silence. SweetNothings hit the gas and they sped away.

*** 47 minutes later at the United HQ ***

The car pulled up to the United HQ. Windows were broken. Bodies lay strewn in various states of undress all over the front garden. It looked like the last days of Rome.

“You have got to be kidding me?” Disorder said exhaustedly.

“BOSS!! CARNIVAL!!!!” Camp screamed excitedly.

“Where the bollocking fuck have you been all day? I called you hours ago. We had to see the Godfather of Paradise!” Disorder bellowed.

“Oh that was today? Sorry boss. How was the old fool anyway? Is he still Godfather of Paradise or did you convince him to retire?”

“He’s dead. I killed them all. Every last one of them. Even that stupid one, Daniel Ward, the perverted guy with the shit scarf and the facial herpes.”

“…fuck. Well. So… that makes you Godfather of Paradise then doesn’t it?” Camp asked.

This hadn’t occurred to Disorder. This hadn’t occurred to him at all. The day had been one fuck up after another and he was tired. But he was now wasn’t he? He was Godfather of Paradise.

“I… yeah… I guess I am! Fuck! It’s happened, I’m Godfather of Paradise!!”

“CARNIVAL MOTHER FUCKERS!!!!”

Camp got on the phone and called everyone. Literally everyone. Even the old Godfather of Paradise, but it kept ringing out. Arrogant old fuck was probably ignoring him… I mean really! Where the fuck did he get off? Camp was glad he was dead. He decided to call him one more time and then to just give up. Old fuck can entertain himself. Punk ass.

More people started to join the party each taking their time to congratulate the new Godfather of Paradise. Gladys Chivalry even turned up with promises of a very special surprise for Disorder in the back room. No one was 100% sure what she was implying…

“Congratulations Boss.” Camp said. “Richly deserved!”

Sitting in the car outside the Godfather of Las Vegas' HQ, SweetNothings was musing to herself. @Lilith was in the back seat, as @Mick_Dundee had called shotgun, with a face like thunder. It was hard to tell if she was annoyed she didn't get the front seat or if she just hadn't had her regular breakfast of coffee and 'space cake' as she liked to call them. Moments went by and being the fidgety sort, Sweet put on the radio to distract her somewhat from the uneasy air inside the car.

'We need to stay professional' she announced into the car. No-one was listening. Mick_Dundee was too busy with his gambling talk  and Lilith, well.
One particular song got a grasp of her, she couldn't help but sing out. It brought her back to her childhood and she began singing along as Mick cranked up the volume.

Suddenly the shit hit the fan! It was the boss, banging on the car door, looking rougher than a witches tit. He didn't make any noise, which troubled her as she took off like a bat out of hell.

Arriving at the HQ, awash with party goers, Sweet was confused. How the fuck did these guys know?! Shaking her head she helped the now Godfather Disorder out of the car and into the HQ.

Congrats boss! she said enthusiastically into his ear, but she knew this meant the end of her sneaking into his room when he was asleep. It was one of her weekly highlights, sneak in when the trout is passed out with brandy and whisper in his ear, for a good 20 minutes, 'god hates you, stop touching yourself, you can win millions on the lottery with just one ticket!' Gutted, she walked toward the buffet tray of the party.

Disorder was not a man to rest on his laurels for too long. After all the commotion of taking over from the old Godfather and Camp's carnival, he had barely had time to get his wounds stitched up before he was making preparations for the day ahead. He stood up with a wince and shooed the doctor's rolling eyes away. He grabbed a fist full of coke left on one of the tables and held it against the large wound in his side. It helped. Tremendously.

Reinvigorated he immediately called up the preparations for the launch of the new project and headed across to the new building, over the road from United's HQ. The gathering of fresh faced well wishers and dazed faced stragglers from the party, were all eagerly awaiting the next announcement. The veil was over the sign above the door and the bar inside the new building's lounge, fully stocked with all manner of exotic imports and reassuring domestics. Disorder went inside and emerged atop the steps with the lady of the hour.

Flanked by her new hands, she looked as radiant as she looked intimidating. She was a special kind of woman and a daughter her mother would have been proud of. Disorder waved a hand to quieten the crowd.

"I'm very happy to be standing here today next to this fine young woman. I don't mind admitting that it near ripped the heart from me to have her mother so horribly taken from us during the wars but I know she wouldn't have given a second thought to it as she always understood the nature of our life. I can only say how glad I am that her daughter came to take on her mother's role and in the true nature of their lineage, go one better in most everything she does.

I didn't have to think about who would take the crew from me at this time. This is someone that understands me and works the way I do. And with the team she has around her, I can only see great things in the future for her and our magnificent family. Ladies and gentlemen, I am proud to present to you, SweetNothings and her new family, Retribution!"

He motioned to a guard holding a chord by the door. He duly pulled it and the veil over the door fell, revealing the sign above the new Headquarters.

Retribution

United under The Farseers

Paradise, LV

He embraced the beautiful young lady and kissed her on the cheek before giving MickDundee a big hug and Lillith a traditionally respectful and importantly hygienic kiss on the hand. Turning back to the crowd he smiled.

"Now, in keeping with the new crews wants and needs, I'd like to invite you all inside to feast on cookies, cocktails and more bacon based treats than I'd believed possible!"

Dan was somewhere around Summerlin, on the edge of the desert, when the drugs began to take hold. He said something like, ‘Jesus Christ, who touched my fucking percocets’, when suddenly there was a terrible roar and the sky filled with what looked like bullets, flying and whizzing past his head and around the car, which was going full speed, top down, straight to Paradise. 

“Keep it together, Dan. Keep it together.”

Turner was fresh off a new payday. He’d been tracking a Vegas mob figure on an infidelity gig. Follow the guy, take some photos of him moonlighting on his marriage, and go home. It should’ve been easy. The truth was, simple was to Dan what sign language is to a fish. It’d all started in Sodom and Gomorrah. The casino. But certainly no less Biblical of a journey for the private investigator. 

Some free drinks and an unfinished job later, he was hot wheeling it out of the parking lot in a stolen car with a license plate reading ‘C4MP’ and a tin foil wrap of sweet and sour chicken playing shotgun. The expert investigator didn’t know whose car it was, but Turner felt like the baddest guy in town, so he tuned the radio to the hardest music of the day, Dixieland jazz. 

The mark he was after must’ve been onto him, because it wasn’t long before the psilocybin started to kick in. Did they slip it into his drink? Turner wasn’t ready for this vacation. Tragedy soon followed when, upon refusing to accept casino chips or Chinese food as payment for gas, a group of rest station regulars - a uniquely American constituency - put on a Frankensteinian village mob. By the time Dan had stopped yelling ‘Savages!’ over his shoulder, he’d tossed the pump behind him and coughed for five minutes straight as he sped back into the wasteland. 

It was only after that, somewhere around Summerlin, in a hail of mescaline bullets, that Dan realised he was going to be late for the festivities. Of anyone, he owed his presence most to Don Disorder - soon to be Godfather. When Dan was at his lowest, the Don gave him purpose. He was the one who put the money forward for Dan’s business. He lifted Dan up through the ranks. Sent him a couple bucks whenever the casino had damaged his spirit. Paid his bodyguards when Dan couldn’t foot the bill. In fact, if it weren’t for the Don’s assistance with his money issues, Dan would likely be living in a box behind Disappointment Burger, where the water never truly dried from the patty. 

No, it was thanks to Don Disorder that Dan was a working man, and so as he raced to Paradise, watching the mileage on highways signs get smaller and smaller, a wave of relief flooded over him. It was time to see the Godfather. Men of stature in the mafia were respected, but rarely celebrated. These were serious positions held by serious men. Helmsmen on the river of influence. Newspaper magnets in an invisible business. Gravitas did not lend itself to frailty. Wealth and power did not treat kindly the weak. And today a mountain of moral strength took front and centre, and Dan was pleased that recognition was going where it was due. 

Dan abandoned the car near his office and staggered towards United HQ, head heavy on the comedown like a bowling ball, ready to give Godfather Disorder the celebration he deserved. 

Fitz had been waiting for his invitation all day. Orange, Monsty and Boulder had already made their way across to the carnival well early but Fitz was left sitting around the HQ with Jaryll who did nothing but ask questions..

"Where is everyone boss?"

"Why is the sky blue?"

"Is there an echo when ducks quack?"

"What came first boss? The chick or the egg?" All of this without a breath from Jaryll, Fitz was beginning to understand why Disorder had shipped the man over to him now.

"I don't fucking know do I? Where's my fucking invite? Those little fucksticks haven't called or wrote and mum just came back for her overnight clothes and went back over there." Fitz was well aware his mother was a massive slut and that as much as she tried to hide it, her "overnight clothes" consisted of some cheap, worn underwear and a 4 foot set of anal beads.

Unable to take this slight any longer Fitz ordered Jaryll to pull up one of the cars, he was heading over there now. There was no party without Lord Fitz being there.

Jaryll readied the car in record time and honked the horn when pulling up outside, unfortunately though FitzabethChivalry, Lord Fitz's daughter, was protesting that she was banned from attending the party, Fitz wasn't sure he wanted her to witness her Grandmother being a giant whore. After prizing her grip from his trouser leg, Fitz ran out to the car and Jaryll made his way over to Paradise for the big shin dig.

Upon arriving Fitz got to the door to see a crowd of people lining up to enter the HQ to join in the carnival, pushing to the front, Lord Fitz declared the the doormen that he had arrived and that he should be shown inside immediately. The doormen looked at each other and shrugged, they then ordered Fitz to the back of the cue before Jaryll had explained exactly who the Godfather Chairman was. Sheepishly the two unhooked the red rope and signalled Fitz and Jaryll inside with many apologies.

As Fitz got inside, he noticed Lucius talking to someone unimportant, most likely about another dicing strategy he had come up with, Fitz was about to head over to him and give him a piece of his mind when Disorder entered from a door to the left with Gladys, Fitz's Slutty Mother, in tow. He didn't need to take a second look to know what had just been going on as he watched the newly turned Godfather wipe the discharge from the side of his mouth.

Fitz had gotten used to this sort of behaviour by now and so it didn't trouble him one bit, instead he headed over to Disorder and congratulated the man. Once Right Hand of The Farseers and now the Godfather of his own district, it truly was a proud moment for Fitz and it was something that was long overdue.