First word: Used. Last word: Unable. If this is the last post then the last word is: Used.

Rubbing his head vigorously, he wondered what the hell he had used last night. He remembered the weed. He remembered the whiskey. There were vague images of raccoons darting around, something about running naked through thorny bushes, but he couldn’t be sure if any of it was real. Except for the thorns, they were definitely real.

Turning to rise, late in the afternoon, it appeared to be a day much like any other. The sky was blue. Which is good, they sky is meant to be blue. “When light is scattered in all directions by the tiny molecules of air in our atmosphere, the blue is scattered more than other colors because it travels as shorter, smaller waves” he thought to himself, like the pretentious old fart that he was. He couldn’t just enjoy that shit, he always had to think about it. Having given himself a quick bollocking for that, he continued on his way.

Anyway. The sky was blue. The sun was shining. The air was crisp and the birds were tweeting their little heads off. There was always some tweeting going on these days, those birds never seemed to shut up. “I wonder what they’re talking about?” he said to himself, getting dangerously close to slipping back into full on pretentious mode again. “They could just be talking about the food they had eaten or it could be tweeting about their kids. Who knows, those crazy birds could be tweeting about building a big wall for all I know” he said as one of the birds was throwing a Mexican man standing near him a dirty look.

Putting all of those thoughts, and at least some of the voices, to the back of his head he continued to get ready. It was still relatively early on Saturday, but there was so much work that needed to be done. It was going to be one hell of a busy weekend. The last six months had all been building up to what was going to happen tomorrow. All the secrets, all the late nights, all the plots and all the planning were all building to this. 

He thought of all the lies he had told his mentor in order to achieve this and he shook his head in shame. Not that he lied. He was a bit of a bastard so that came easily. Just that he wished he had come up with better lies. He now was left simply hoping it would all be worth it in the end, and that none of those around him he had roped in to help would fuck it up. His hands shook with fear when he thought about all that could still go wrong, all that still had to be put in place and done in the final moments, but he knew it was too late to back out now. He also figured it might just have been withdrawals from the night before that had him shaking so he helped himself to a healthy two fingers of whiskey. He had been one of the people driving this from the beginning. He had put others in motion too, so even if he did want to back out now, he simply couldn’t. It was too late. Old man Anthony “Bonkers” Versetti was going to finally get it tomorrow and it was going to be on his hands, whether it went right or wrong. 

It was time to shit or get off the pot, and people had been telling grumpy old Patrick “TsuDhoNimh” McCarthy he had been full of shit for years. Even as a young child he was a paranoid type. He always thought the world was out to get him. Being fair, when you’re a paranoid type you do end up pissing off an awful lot of people so in the end he’d normally work out correct and they would be out to get him. He hid his name at every opportunity. Even when he got the nickname “Pseudonym” as a kid, he had to change it to Tsu-Dho-Nimh as a pseudonym. He was that sort of an annoying twat. Now, as a grumpy old man, all of that paranoia and irritating determination was being squarely aimed at Bonkers. The old man didn’t stand a chance.

TsuDhoNimh settled his nerves knowing that he wasn’t going to be alone. Crime bosses from all over the district were gathering tonight. Under the guise of a fake meeting, to discuss which members might be given authorisation to start their own families in the future, all of the major players were going to come together to make this happen. Everyone was converging on The Crazy House early Sunday morning and there it would be done. There, in front of everyone, so nobody could be left in any doubts and everyone would know who was responsible. 

For months they had all discussed the old man getting even older. He had been around for what seemed like a few eternities. The old men in the room talked about how well he treated them when they were young children. The guy was literally and metaphorically a dinosaur. Even the ones that had the odd good word to say, many of those words were very odd, wanted to see this happen. It had been coming for a long time and nobody was backing out now. There was fear, there was hesitation, there was probably some bed wetting and adult diapers, but it was definitely going to happen. Tomorrow was going to be the day.

It was time for Tsu to get to work. He had all sorts of visits to make over the next twenty-four hours. First, there was some business to take care of. He had to get the gun. Not A gun. THE gun.

<\\^> +--^----------,--------,-----,--------^-,
 | |||||||||   `--------'     |          O              / 
 `+---------------------------^----------------/  
   `\_,---------,----------,---------------------/   
     / XXXXXX /'\\        /'                               
    / XXXXXX / `\\     /'                                
   / XXXXXX /`-------'                                  
  / XXXXXX /                                              
 / XXXXXX /                                               
(_______/                                                
 `----------'                                                  

This was the gun that was going to do it. He couldn’t take any risks. It had to be perfect. He couldn’t risk a jam. He couldn’t risk a misfire. He couldn’t risk a skewed bullet only grazing the target. It had to hit the spot first time. It had to kill. It had to be perfect. This was going to be THE gun for the night. This was the gun that Bonkers was never going to forget… the forgetful old fart.

On the day, all the other bosses and button men from The Loop were going to be there. They were all going to be vying to be the one, to get there first, to be the one that surprised the old man and ended up taking it all. Tsu had been the one that put so much of this together. He just had to be the one to finish it off now. He settled his mind thinking about penguins. He had always liked penguins, so now in a time of great stress, he turned to them once again.

Hopping into his car he started stepping over every detail of the plan. A plan he had carried out to the very end when the gun came into play well over one thousand times in his head. He’d pick up the gun, check. He'd check it was perfect... check check. He’d get it home, check. He'd packed an extra map, just in case, he had a terrible sense of direction. He'd pack it into a hollowed out cigar case he’d had specially made, check. Nobody could ever guess it was in there. He’d already paid the guys that were going to be on duty at the gate, check. They wouldn’t raise an eyebrow or ask any questions. He’d paid off all the door staff, each of the twelve of them, as he couldn’t know which would be on the back door. Check. Then, he’d be in. Nobody left between him and the old man. It would be perfect. The checks had been checked. The payments had been made, many by cheque. Check. It was all in place. By the time the old man knew what was about to happen, he’d be unable to do anything about it.  

First word: Unable. Last word: Flowers. If this is the last post then the last word is: Used.

As much as Vincenzo tried to stay calm he was unable to. He knew the risks. Anthony “Bonkers” Versetti was his brother after all. The boys had had a happy upbringing back in the old country. Their father Giuseppe the baker had taught them his trade, but the boys had had other ideas - ideas of an exciting life in a new land of opportunity. That felt like a long time ago now, so much had changed since they’d boarded that boat all those years ago. Back then the boys had sworn together, sworn that they would always look out for one another. Vincenzo gulped, he feared he would let his family down, his own blood.

There had been some talk of this operation for a while, but Vincenzo had been kept out of the loop until now. Understandable he supposed, he was the one individual that people had been unsure about involving. After all, as his brother and right hand man Vincenzo was closer to Bonkers than any other - so close that they read one another's mail. But the truth was that when Vincenzo actually suggested it to Tsu they knew they needed to bring him inside. And to hell with it, if you needed to break a few eggs then other than Bonkers himself Vincenzo was your man. After all, it seemed to run in the blood.

Vincenzo‘s first time had been as a child back in the old country. He’d made a mess of it - splattered the walls and been found out. He remembered the look on everyone's faces, particularly the disappointment in his father's eyes. But that was then and this was now, he’d become a master of this trade since arriving here in America and he’d gained quite the reputation for it. People always came to him with this sort of problem because he was the best. But every night he saw the faces, nearly a thousand faces. He’d seen it all: stunned silence, tears, screaming. But always some sort of expression of shock, for no one ever saw it coming and certainly never quite believed that it would be Vincenzo himself there to deliver the goods.

This time was going to be different to any of those other times though, it was his brother he kept reminding himself. Perhaps someone else should do it? No, it had to be this way. If he was going to be involved then this would have to be his contribution. He was ready to cook up a storm. He took a deep breath and began his preparations - he’d planned it all out step-by-step, just like every other job. This time there would be no fuck ups.

As he prepared he caught himself staring out of his window for a moment down into the graveyard below. His mind wandered. How many more years would Bonkers have left in him anyway? He had visions of standing there by the grave as Bonkers was lowered down into the ground. He couldn’t think about it any more, where had all the time gone?! He was supposed to be in the zone, but instead he was standing here thinking about coffin lining options. He needed to get a grip, not think about fucking flower bouquets!

First word: Flowers. Last word: War. If this is the last post then the last word is: Used.

“Flowers? What the fuck is this shit?”

Borkers looked around, furious that nobody was answering him. As he shook his head he slowly started to realise why. He was all alone. He was on his roof. He was looking down on his neighbours garden. He was surrounded by empty bottles of whiskey. He was naked. He didn’t know why.

“I’m going to kill Tsu. Nights out with him always end with this type of crap.”

Shimmying his way down the guttering his alcohol fueled drip feed memories slowly started returning. There were multiple beers. There were multiple shots. There were multiple young ladies. There were those two old ladies. Yes, they were nuns. He had hoped they were penguins at first. Then, there was black. Everything after that had disappeared from mind, except for the plan. That was still in there. Burned into the back of his mind. Something that would never leave it.

He thought about contacting Bonkers and warning him. Did the old man really deserve this shit? He wasn’t that bad. A bit nuts, maybe, but then again who in this thing of ours wasn’t. Sure, he got a bit of wandering hand syndrome after a few pints. Sure, he tended to stare a little too long when in the dressing room. Sure, he once suggested sword fighting at the most inappropriate time ever. Other than those things, though, he was a pretty ok guy. Knowing what was going to happen Borkers felt sick to his stomach. He just couldn’t let this happen. After hours had passed, mainly spent trying to find pants, Borkers had made his decision.

“Fuck Tsu and his crazy plans. They always end up shit anyway. At least if I’m the one that tells the old man I might get something from it.”

The decision had been made. He was turning informer. A licky boom boom down. It was a long journey to The Crazy House. It really had to be. You didn’t want to live too close to that place. They all genuinely were nuts. The old man was about the best of them, and even he was completely off his rocker. He didn’t get the nickname Bonkers for nothing.

“I’ll need to bring some supplies with me. Who knows what might kick off once I tell the bastard. I might end up running dry”.

With that, which was quite an odd thing for him to have said out loud like that given nobody else was around, Borkers set to work packing some bottles for the journey. A few he came across were half empty so being a devout environmentalist, someone that abhorred wastage and a borderline alcoholic he decided it best to polish them off.

“I don’t suffer from alcoholism. I enjoy every day of it”

He exclaimed loudly. Once again to nobody in particular.

Suitably buzzed, he set off on his journey. Still conflicted in his decision he turned to the bottle for comfort. Even when confident in his decision, he turned back to the bottle for companionship. When he had forgotten he had made a decision, he turned back to the bottle for fun. By the time he’d gotten to The Crazy House he was busy yelling “yo momma” jokes at orphans and asking his wife if she was single. Still, that wasn’t enough to put him off. Borkers was nothing if not determined. Well, drunk and determined.

“I hazzzz to talkzzzz to zzzze boss!!!” 

He just managed to slur out as the security looked on with growing impatience. 

“Zeriously, I really hazzzz to talkzzzz to zzeee bozzzz”

He had no more finished saying the line that he collapsed over in a heap. Would he wake up in time? Would he be able to warn the old man? Would he be able to find the badly needed clean underwear when he finally woke up? Would tonight end in war?

First word: War. Last word: Science. If this is the last post then the last word is: Used.

Did he really want to start a war?

Her mind kept rolling over the recent events, and she just couldn’t let it go.  How could she with everything she was told? TsuDhoNimh caught up with her the other day, told her everything he had planned, and frankly her impish side relished the idea of getting one over on the big man himself. A little payback for everything Godfather Bonkers had done to her during her brief stay in The Crazy House.  TsuDhoNimh had questioned her sanity recently in his first issue of the Potato, but soon everyone will understand he wasn’t wrong in his assumptions.

For the past two days, Rosa had been diligently planning every last detail of her part in the plan to perfection.  The big day was finally here, and she was moments away from being completely ready for the meeting.  It has been some time now since she had set foot in The Crazy House, yet her memory of the layout was excellent.  She knew the ins and outs, perfect places to hide, secret compartments to store the hidden treasures Bonkers didn’t think anyone knew about.  She could almost taste the sweetness of victory as she laid her eyes on the box sitting in the middle of the table. She opened the box briefly then smiled impishly.  

Her job - a simple distraction for the aging Godfather, one clever enough to give the others time to make their move.  His failing eyesight was in her favor though, as he would need time to focus and comprehend the meaning of the contents of the box.  He was slowing down with age, but that was to be expected.  First the hearing goes, then the eyesight.  Hell pretty soon his trigger finger wouldn’t function, then what will they do with him. Yes, now was the perfect time to get things sorted.  It was just a matter of who was gonna be ‘the one’ to do it.

A knock on the door brought her attention back to the present, instead of daydreaming of the meeting tonight.  It was hard to keep the devious smile from her face as she opened the door.  Supernova was there with the other goods she arranged to be picked up.

“Perfetto!  You’re just in time.  Looks like someone was full of hot air, si.”

He rushed past her as he entered, ready to drop off the goods.  She smirked as he told her they were a bitch to rustle up, and to be careful with it all.  He whirled around almost smacking her in the face.

“Mio Dio!  Watch it.  I swear if you slap me in the face again, I will pop every last one within sight tonight.”

Regaining her composure, Rosa smoothed her dress then tussled with her curls.  For pete’s sake, she spent enough time choosing the perfect attire for the meeting, she didn’t need to show up looking wildly crazy.  A lady never allows anyone to know what her impish mind has lurking inside, until she was ready, and her appearance mattered.  If she looked anything but her ever elegant self as usual, Bonkers would know something was up before they were ready with the plan.

“Right.  Let’s get this box and the goods over there to The Crazy House before the meeting starts.  I want zero distractions from being front and center to witness everything.  We need things to go smoothly, otherwise someone might end up pushing up daisies. And I much prefer roses to daisies.”  

Half an hour later they both arrived to the back door entrance of The Crazy House.  She nodded to the guard standing there, one of the many having been paid off already, then Rosa and Supernova went inside quietly, well as quietly as possible with all the noise he was making carrying the goods.  She held tight onto the box, not wanting it to fall and ruin the contents before Godfather Bonkers had a chance to look inside it.  The plan to get to the old man wasn’t rocket science, but the meeting would end with a sweet, sweet bang.  

First word: Science. Last word: Revenge. If this is the last post then the last word is: Used.

Some said that crime was an art, but Maleficent always thought of it more as a science. Moving mass quantiles of alcohol was never an easy task.  It required a great deal of planning, patience, and resources.  Maleficent had been waiting on this shipment for a month, and she did not like to be kept waiting.  This shipment had come all the way from France. Bottles of champagne, fine red and white wine, and chartreuse.  It was late though, by five days.  Her shipment had been flagged for search when it arrived in New York, and it had taken a considerable amount of cash and a few favors to have it leave the city unscathed.  This was an important shipment though, and it could not be late another day. 

Now that it was safely stored in her warehouse, it had to be distributed around the city.  Sure, a few police officers in her pocket didn’t hurt, but there were still those beyond her influence.  The bottles were repacked, stamped, and loaded into trucks heading all over the city.  The crates were labeled ‘Fragile’ and all the trucks manifests were for crates of fine china.  When a patrol cracked open one of the cases, they would find a stack of plates in each crate, the bottles safely tucked out of sight underneath straw and shredded newspaper. 

Maleficent spent most of her time watching from afar, but this special shipment needed a little more care and special attention.  The final truck was not destined to underground clubs and bars for resale, it was destined for their headquarters. She had not waited months for this shipment to be sold off to the rabble.  She packed the boxes herself, shooing away any workers who tried to help.  After all, this was a special shipment for the Boss, and she had a little surprise for him tucked away in the crates.

She made sure to put a special stamp on the final box, and instructed the driver that no one touch it under any circumstances.  That box was for Bonkers.  Breaking from protocol, she had her town car follow the delivery van all the way to HQ, and she even carried in the specially marked crate herself. 

“Leave the crates in the basement, and make sure to cover them with a sheet before you leave, I have to deliver this package myself,” she said, fixing her crew with a steely gaze.  They all nodded, gazes averted downward.

“Yes Ma’am” they said in chorus, turning back to the task at hand while she carried the crate upstairs.  She shut the door to the basement behind her, making her way into the kitchen, setting the crate on the table.  She pulled the lid off, setting the china aside before pulling out a small crystal bottle, the lid sealed on with wax.  A devious smile curled over her lips as she looked at it, running her fingers over the smooth curves of the bottle before setting it on the table, unloading the rest of the bottles. 

A maid slipped into the kitchen, taking the bottles as Maleficent unpacked them, tucking them away in the hidden back room for later.  When the girl reached for the crystal bottle of Absinthe, Maleficent’s hand shot out to grab her wrist, the girl letting out a yelp.

“That bottle is not for the family,” she growled, narrowing her eyes at the young woman.  “Its special… for Bonkers only.  I don’t want to see a single drop go to someone else.  Do you understand?” she said, leaning in and narrowing her golden eyes at the girl.  The maid nodded frantically, her eyes wide as saucers.  Maleficent smiled, releasing her wrist, picking up the bottle herself. 

“Good, I’m glad we understand each other… I’ll just leave this in his office.  You can finish unpacking.” she said, heading out of the kitchen.  She opened the door to his office, placing the bottle on his desk, taking a note out of her coat and setting it on his desk beside the bottle. 

‘Bonkers, a token of my gratitude.

~ The Green Fairy’

Oh truly, he was in for the surprise of his life. She would have her revenge.

First word: Revenge. Last word: Murder. If this is the last post then the last word is: Used.

Faceman was ear to ear with glee, revenge would finally be his. He had obtained it not more than twelve hours ago. It had presented to him a unique opportunity that he had so patiently, so desperately and so yearningly waited for. The plan was slowly coming together. He would be meeting the rest, senior members of cosa nostra from the local area, in nothing more than a matter of hours. He had to be careful not to be caught until his positioning was absolutely impeccable. Even the slightest mistake and everything could be ruined.

He gave himself a few moments to gather himself and his composure before he could set out on the journey. He was not sure it was one he would return from quite the same, but it was essential it was undertaken. Before he could set off, just as he sat to partake of some tea, thirteen small men, both shorter and wider than your normal person, in blacker than black suits were sitting on Faceman's doorstep. Rubbing his eyes he tried to remember what the hell he had been drinking last night. He couldn't remember, but he knew it must have been the Irish lad's fault.

Before he could even so much as say "How do you do?" all thirteen of them were inside his home and heading straight for the kitchen. Within seconds they frantically began making themselves a banquet capable of feeding a group at least twice the size. Twice the size in number mind, not just normal sized people. Aghast, Faceman followed them around, constantly struggling, catching all that they knocked over. After some time they did eventually settle down. Using the term loosely there, as there was very little settled about the way these guys ate. They devoured almost everything that was so much as mildly edible in their immediate vicinity and a few things that most probably weren't. That was all fine, but the ale and wine they consumed would have left Dublin dry. It was horrid. You'd never have seen anything like this. Unless, of course, you might have seen something very like this before. In which case, lucky you big people! 

At this time another knock came at Faceman's door. Reluctant to answer this time, what if it was more of these crazy little folk, he pulled his door open slowly to see the pasty face of TsuDhoNimh. If you had heard only a quarter of what there is to have heard about him, and most have only heard very little of all there is to hear, you would have heard a remarkable tale. His goofy Irish grin smiled at Faceman like a bird that just shit on his shoulder, as he rather rudely let himself in only to be greeted with a rapture of cheers by the small men at his dining room table. They must never have met old TsuDhoNimh before, as that really wasn't a common reaction for him walking into a room. Maybe they were leprechauns? Or maybe normal Irishmen who'd just stunted their growth with underage drinking? Who knows, but they all seemed very happy and it was all very unexpected.

"You know them?!" bellowed Faceman, completely disgusted at the absolute mayhem caused by the small gang of thirteen.

"Yes. Quite the merry gathering, once you get to know them. These are your companions for the journey to The Crazy House. The... unexpected journey! I won't care to name them all, you will most certainly forget their names by the times we reach our destination. The less you know about them the better." TsuDhoNimh carried on, all the while continuing to down glass fulls of wine. You'd never think the man had an important job to do tonight.

"We are met to discuss our plans, our ways, means, policies, and devices. We shall soon be at the start of day start on our long journey, a tough journey that may not go to plan. It is a solemn moment. Our objective is, I trust, well known to all of us. *Scanning around the room to see nods of agreement from all* To the estimable Mr. Faceman, and perhaps to one or two of the younger group, the exact situation at the moment may come as a shock... but until that point, you must hold your nerve and see the plan through." 

An hour or so had passed before TsuDhoNimh had finished talking. Boy did that man love talking. You'd think this guy would be too busy for all this, he was a major part of the whole plan. All the while, Faceman sat writhing furiously with anger at the needless intrusion into his home. Amid all of this, he made sure that he did not let slip the surprise he had in store tucked inside his blazer, constantly checking to make sure it was still sitting there. Sitting there, waiting. It wouldn't go to waste.

Eventually, TsuDhoNimh stood up and announced to everyone that it was now time for them to make the journey.

"This is a perilous journey we are making today... and I hear the weather's a bit shit too." he said in a typical Irish brogue with all the class of an orangutan. A pretty drunk orangutan.

Once on their way, Faceman could breathe a big sigh of relief. Even though he could, he didn't. He was too worried about it all. It didn't take long for one of the group to see Faceman was not at ease and began questioning him about it. Faceman did his best to avoid the conversation. "Wow, the weather really is a bit shit. Tsu was right for once" he barked. Ahead of them, twelve other small men were laughing and giggling with bellies full of beer and salted pork. Faceman couldn't help but let out a smile, this certainly wasn't how he had expected the day to go. 

Another half an hour or so had passed without incident, but with multiple toilet breaks. Suddenly, without warning, all fourteen men were ambushed by local law enforcement. They bolted down an alley, fleeing for an escape, with some splitting from the group down an alley on the other side of the road. These reprehensible law-enforcement agents were nothing short of trolls!

The group kept their heads down and ran, firing some blind shots behind them as they did so. Faceman took cover behind a wall, shooting back to allow the others to escape. They were too important to the plan, he couldn't let anything happen to them. He was always a bit of a hero like that, the fucking legend. Quickly, he rolled his back against the wall giving himself a chance to reload and discard the empty clip. He could hear a set of heavy footsteps sprinting down the alley towards him. As the footsteps grew louder, he turned and firmly clotheslined the policeman driving the body to the ground, knocking him unconscious. "That's gotta sting" Faceman shouted, wishing anyone was paying enough attention to notice his witty one liner. All this as he barely held back the wheezing, maybe he was getting a little old for this stuff. He quickly shook his arm, cursing under his breath as he noticed his gun had jammed. Moving as fast as he could he replaced it with the gun the officer on the floor had been carrying. He thought to himself he had to name the gun sting, but he couldn't work out exactly why.

Faceman swept through the streets in the shadows, evading eyes all he could. He eventually caught up with the rest of the group, after all it's not that hard to notice thirteen dwarves... I mean small Irishmen wandering the streets of Chicago. Quickly checking that everyone was accounted for, they all carried on forward with the journey. Angrily debating who had saved the day most. They also began wondering who could have possibly tipped the police off? Had Bonkers started hearing whispers and was trying to get the first jump? Did the old man know what was happening? Or had the police just gotten lucky... on tonight of all nights?

Naturally, Faceman speculated which of the small men it could have been that betrayed them. He'd never trusted easily and Tsu could be a terrible judge of character when he was drunk, or sober. But he was always drunk. Eventually, he decided they were all equally as likely as the next and treated them all with equal contempt. He continued meandering down the streets, avoiding the onlooking gaze. All the while hoping that no more misadventure would befall them they carried on their way. Him and his thirteen small little friends and his valuable little package, his hand resting on it from time to time.

An hour or so further passed without much incident, but plenty of gas. At this point, they were approaching The Crazy House. This was it. This was where it was going to happen. The scene of the crime. It all came down to this. As they arrived they were met by many other members of The Loop crime families, all looking to claim their piece of the action and their bit of history. This really was going to be a huge night that nobody would ever forget, but would they survive? The old man always had a temper and once he figured out what they were trying to do, all hell could erupt.

Once inside Faceman took leave of the fellowship, what he had come to call them as "the thirteen little fellas" didn't have a manly sound to it, and tried to find an ideal spot to watch from. He knew he needed to be in view of Bonkers when he makes his inevitable entrance. He had to be, it was essential. He took his place near the front, to the right of where Bonkers was due to make his entrance any moment now. His hands were sweaty. His knees were weak. His arms were heavy now. This was strange, feeling almost like an out of body experience. In his head, he started wondering if there might be vomit on his sweater already. His mom's spaghetti? This was now just getting odd, he thought still humming a quite catchy little tune in the back of his head. 

Settling his nerves, he took a deep breath. Slipping his hand inside of his blazer pocket he confirms, once again, it's still there. Feeling cold to the touch it had a soothing effect on him. It's waiting. It's ready. Now he just had to wait for TsuDhoNimh or one of the others to make the first move and then it would all be go! Or it would all be murder!

First word: Murder. Last word: Nutritious. If this is the last post then the last word is: Used.

Murder.  Murder was what she was getting away with, she thought.

Maeby Funke started her day with a kick in her step, having successfully convinced six separate diners in the greater Chicago area into giving her limitless free food in exchange for sabotaging their nearby competitors, with unflattering headlines ranging from petty arson to bribing union workers to boycott and protest the establishments for unsubstantiated sleights on the diner’s treatment of union customers.  Brawls and road closures were frequent, and the businesses had suffered as a result.  The ridiculous means justified the ends, as Maeby had begun to savor her second frozen banana when her longtime bodyguard burst into the diner, out of breath with a paper clutched in his hand, damp from his hands.  He attempted to speak, but only half words came out,  as if he was pleading with his lungs to give him the opportunity to speak.

“Ma’am, this -“

“-better be good, Mort.” Maeby interjected, pushing her fork down against the plate in annoyance.  Mort unraveled the note and set it to Maeby’s side as the overweight bodyguard attempted to catch his breath. 

“Pick up package, then head to 8302 Cicero Avenue. Needs to be handled ASAP.  Make sure they’re completely blown up.  Make it memorable.  Everything rides on this. No contact until done.  Return to Crazy House when finished.  All happens tonight. - Tsu”

Maeby raised an eyebrow at the note as she shuffled her memory on what the building for 8302 was - only recalling that the street had been used for industrial purposes for the last few years.

“Mort, what’s at 8302 Cicero Ave?” Maeby queried.

“Old latex factory.  They make balloons, I think.”  Mort replied, having calmed his breathing.  “The old man had a disagreement with them a while back when he expanded the Crazy House.. said they weren’t paying their fair share, but that was awhile ago.  They were squared up the last time I could recall."  Maeby pursed her lips.  This wasn’t her normal type of work.  Maeby had climbed the ranks of The Loop through schemes, cons and pickpocketing - her natural guile helped her establish more than 16 identities across the city of Chicago; but this was a different line of work. This was messy.  She pushed her frozen banana to the center of the table and lifted herself out of the diner’s booth.  

“Looks like they want to make an example out of them.  Mort, run to the payphone six blocks down and get a hold of the guy who runs the watch shop in North Side.  We need some of his side services.  Tell him I’m headed there now.  We’ll need a big, big package.”

A look of pain and discomfort formed on Mort’s face at the prospect of running again, his expression mirroring his reaction when Maeby had thrown the only copy of his screenplay off of a skyscraper years prior.  

“Do I need to tell you twice?  Go, go! I’ll pick you up on Cicero.  Scout ‘em out.”  Maeby quipped.  Mort obliged her, and set across sweatily jogging across the streets of Chicago as his boss flagged down a cab, speeding off into the opposite direction on her way to North Side.   The crisp ten dollar bill she threw towards the cabbie had paid off as he sped through street lights and stop signs without concern.  With her day pivoting unexpectedly, she was determined to make the best out of it.

Before long, the taxi pulled up in front of a small, nondescript building.  A luxury watch store owned by a veteran of the Great War, Robert Hanlan’s shop was well known for their timeless pieces.  What was not known was Robert Hanlan’s side business in furnishing explosives.  Maeby exited the cab and entered the shop - classic dark wooden floors furnished with glass displays featuring Hanlan’s wares.   She walked up to the counter and rung the bell as her eyes were diverted towards an elegant timepiece - a diamond encrusted tourbillon dotted with small sapphires. Maeby was smitten.  A shuffle from behind the shop distracted her from the piece as Hanlan entered the showroom.

“I received a call thirty minutes ago from someone who sounded like they were having a heart attack.   I take it this is on top of your initial order?”  Hanlan asked, presenting two boxes covered in kraft paper and tied with tweed.  One was significantly smaller than the other.

“Correct.  This isn’t my usual business, but I am familiar with your work and you’re known as the best in the business.   This needs to be almost showman-like in appearance - I’ve been told this needs to be memorable.  My associate called about the second package - this is going to 8302 Cicero.  Think it’ll do the job?” Maeby replied.

“If you place it towards a structural support area, you should be fine.  The building will either collapse on its own, or the fire will do the job.  Activate the fuse here, and you’ll have yourself two and a half minutes to get out of there.” Hanlan said with pride as his hands smoothed over his creation, marking the fuse point with a pen.  “The first package though, that’s a beauty of mine.  It never fails to disappoint - a lot of hours go into each of those.  It will always do the job - our clients have been very, very happy with them.  By the way, this will run you $4600.”

Maeby was taken aback.  “4600?  I could buy a few houses with that!”

“Or you can destroy a few.” Hanlan man shot back.

“Fine, fine.. I better get reimbursed for this…” Maeby muttered under her breath as she produced a wallet from her bag and carefully counted forty six $100 bills.  Before relinquishing her hard earned cash, she froze as her eyes settled once more on the watch that had caught her attention.

“How much is that watch?” she asked as she nodded towards the timepiece.

“$960.” Hanlan replied.  “A fine piece.  Are you interested?” Hanlan replied.

“Throw in the watch and I’ll give you $500 and a referral from some friends of mine.”  Maeby replied.

“I would feel more comfortable with the full price of th…” Hanlan began. Maeby had started counting additional hundred dollar bills and shot him a smile.  Haggling had become sport for her, and given the quantity of explosives between them, he thought better of counter-offering.  “You know what? That’s fine.  Would you like it gift-wrapped?” he asked.

“As a matter of fact, I do.  The satin-lined boxes are a favorite of mine.  Have any of those?” she replied, handing him the wad of cash.   

Two hours later, Maeby found herself in the back of another taxi, in possession of an expertly crafted watch in her purse along with two packages that could ostensibly level an entire street corner, although she didn’t dare mention that to her driver.  As the car turned on Cicero Avenue, Mort appeared in the distance, standing by a coffee shop.  

“Slow down, here.” she instructed the cabbie as she rolled down the window and signaled him into the vehicle.  Maeby winced as she felt the suspension of the car swing from left to right as her burly assistant settled himself into the vehicle.  Mort took a breath and began to brief his boss.

“Building’s empty. Something about a strike at a diner across town has blocked a bunch of traffic on the other side of town.  The few who were able to show up were sent home.”

Maeby’s eyes lit up.

“The diners!  This couldn’t have been better timing.” she exclaimed as she instructed the cabbie to resume driving.  Four blocks later, and the car had arrived at its final destination - Balloonocracy & Latex Incorporated, a large industrial building that was known for their output of rubber synthetics and their successful side business in coloured balloons.  Maeby placed the bomb on her lap and addressed the cabbie.

“I’m going to give you two hundred dollars and you’re going to wait here until we come back.  Then, you’re going to drive like hell and get us to the Crazy House across town.  And if you do a good job I’ll give you an extra hundred.  No questions.  Deal?” Maeby pressed, as she held up two one hundred dollar bills towards the cabbie.  The cabbie nodded and accepted the cash, putting the car in park.  As Maeby and Mort exited the vehicle, she turned towards Mort, handing him the explosives.  

“Mort, you’ve been hauling ass all day, so I think you’ve earned your shot.  I’m going to let you set the fuse while I keep watch.  We don’t need two people risking their lives today.”

Mort’s eyes grew larger as a terrified expression formed on his face that slowly turned into anger.  “You are a terrible human being.” Mort replied as he the sides of his temples began letting off beads of sweat.

“Marry me!” Maeby replied with a smile as she playfully knocked his shoulder with a fist.  “No, no, no.  Of course I wouldn’t let you do this alone.” Maeby said reassuringly, to her chagrin, as she quietly slid the cigarette she was hoping to enjoy outside of the factory back into the pack that was in her purse.

With a hearty kick from Mort, the entrance to the factory swung open and the pair began scouting for an ideal spot to place their payload.  They eventually settled on an off-central pillar in the factory that had been positioned around some heavy pieces of equipment.  As she placed the bomb between the equipment and pillar, she began to talk to herself.

“I’m not really sure why they want this place gone.. seems kind of.. left field?”  Maeby trailed off.  “A little too high profile for a distraction.. old man might be put on edge if he hears about it.. ah, well.”

Maeby produced a pack of matches from her bag and turned to Mort.

“You should leave first because I don’t want to have to drag you out of here with me.  You might slow me dow-“

Without a word of objection from Mort, he darted off as he began his exit from the factory.  Maeby had never seen him run that fast in her life.

“I knew he was taking the piss!” Maeby thought to herself as she lit a match.  While she was skilled at hiding her nerves, her hands betrayed her as they shook slightly.  Taking a deep breath, she recited “Two minutes.  Two minutes.  Two minutes” in her head and nervously lowered the match to the fuse.  The fuse sparked violently and the timer had been set; with her life literally depending on it, she ran as quickly as she could through the factory and through the exit as she tried to count down the seconds to detonation.   Swinging past the exit that Mort was holding open, the pair ran towards the cab car and flew into the back seats.

“Drive, drive!” Maeby yelled.  The cabbie obliged her and hit the gas as the car sped away from the factory, with Maeby having lost count of her internal clock.  

“It should go any second no-“ Maeby was cut off from the sound of a gigantic blast that had emanated from behind them, with smoke and particles rising to the air.   Chunks of concrete had littered the street behind them as her eyes grew wider as she realized the gravity of the situation.  Her attention shifted to the cabbie, who nervously watched the carnage through his rear-view mirror before darting a gaze at Maeby.

“No questions.” Maeby reminded him.  

After what seemed like ages, the cab arrived at the Crazy House, where Maeby made good on her promise, and slid the cabbie an extra hundred dollar bill before exiting the car with Mort.   Maeby was exhausted, but glad to be back home.

“Make yourself a drink, Mort. You did well today.” she said as she swung open the colorful double-doors to the compound.  As he scurried off, Maeby set her sights on her room. Eager to play with her new toy and unwind before the big show, she pulled out the box her watch was gift-wrapped in and made her way up the spiraling staircase to her quarters where she came face to face with TsuDhoNimh himself, a look of relief forming across his face.  She remembered that she had one last job to do.   

“You’re here! We need the item now!  Is that the package?” he asked, as his eyes glanced towards the box Maeby was holding.

“Oh, no.  This is something.. erm, personal.   the.. other item is in here.  He said it was.. really special.” she replied, producing the second box that Hanlan had given her.  Maeby pressed her ears against the box, registering the faint sound of ticking.   Years of hearing loss from firearm discharges had taken its toll on Bonkers, and she simply hoped that he wouldn’t catch wind of what was in the box until it was the right time.   She couldn't help but feel a slight tinge of regret at all of the bodies circling the old man - like sharks that had smelled blood.

“I feel like this is whole thing is.. just a little overkill, if you ask me.  By the way, why did you have me destroy a balloon factory?” she asked, as her eyes darted to the dish of shortbread on the coffee table in the office across from her room.  Her stomach growled.  The long day had taken its toll, and Maeby couldn’t have cared less about being nutritious.

First word: Nutritious. Last word: Benevolent. If this is the last post then the last word is: Used.

Teo was in such a mess from the lack of sleep and nutritious meals in the past few days, he was laying dead on his bed, barely moving and strugling to open his eyes. He just couldn't bear the light. He turned to his right away from the sun with his eyes half opened he noticed a joint between his fingers, "That's some strong shit, how long have I been sleeping?" He checked the clock next to him, it was just a little past 09:00, he thought to himself "I only slept 4 hours, why do I feel like I have slept for a year?" He yawned as he got on his legs and searched for the light, he lit the Joint in his hand and walked to the bathroom, he definitely needed a bath. He called for RosabellaCorti, as he walked into the bathroom to wash his face, he opened the tap and looked in the mirror. His face was pretty covered with hair, he could barely know himself. He washed his face and walked out to check if Rosa arrived, but the room was still empty. He opened the door to his office, the hallway was empty and quite too. "Where the hell did she go so early in the morning? Astro..." he yelled at his bodyguard "Get me my coffee." He slammed the door as he walked back into the bathroom to get shaved and bath.

Teo had finished his bath and joint when he walked out to find his bodyguard waiting with his cup of coffee. He rested in his recliner as he reached for the bedside table to bring the tools, he got everything ready on his lap then reached for his cup and took a sip of his coffee. "Nothing tastes better than a fresh cup of Machiatto in the morning, don't you agree?" He turned to Astro who didn't say a word, just nodded his head and gave him a weird look. Teo took another sip of his coffee then put it down on the table. "Where the hell did everyone go by the way? It's so quite today, did they all die?" Astro raised an eye borrow, "It's February 12th sir. Did you forget?" Teo jumped out of his chair in panic, throwing the tobbaco and tools on the floor. "Are you kidding? I slept for 28 hours?" He rushed to the newspaper next to his bed, his eyes opened wide as he read the date. "Why did you idiots leave me asleep all that time?!" He yelled at Astro as he threw the newspaper at him. "Sir, we have been trying for the past 10 hours, but you just won't wake up.Miss Rosa left earlier and told me to stay with you in case you needed anything."

Teo walked back and forth across the room, speaking to himself. He could hear Astro chuckle. "What are you doing standing right there staring at me? Roll me a fucking joint till I get dressed" Teo walked to his wardrobe, got his suit out and got dressed. "Give me that and go get the car ready, I will be down in a minute." He lit the joint and took a dee drag. He walked to the mirror to get his tie adjusted, when he noticed a note sticking on the top....

Don't forget the thing.

Rose~

"Thing? What thing? What the hell is she on about now?"

Teo's day was getting worse, he couldn't remember what she is talking about, he opened his drawer, got his Smith and Wesson and loaded it then put it in his holster. He sat back in his recliner as he smoked the rest of his joint trying to remember what she meant when he noticed the sign of the Chinese food shop across the street, he chuckled.

"THAT THING! 

He put his joint off and locked the door to his room, he got on his knees and pulled a box fron beneath the bed. He smiled as he picked the lock open he smiled deeply as the shiny blade of the Axe hit his eyes. He took it out and started swinging it back and forth enjoying it's light weight. "That axe is definitely worthy the money, It will be just perfect." He his wardrobe and took a guitar-like box where he placed that axe and carried it out of their building.

Astro has been waiting for him in the driver's seat, Teo jumped in the back seat and motioned to him to get moving. A few minutes passed when they arrived, Teo opened the door and got out of the car. He was shocked to see TsuDhoNimh greeting him with a benevolent smile.

First word: Benevolent. Last word: Detective. If this is the last post then the last word is: Used.

Despite his benevolent nature that usually made him the most popular guy in town, Bonkers was feeling as though no one wanted to be associated with him that day. He’d had a strange 24 hours, and it wasn't just because he’d seen @TsuDohNimh staggering around naked in the bushes last night, or Borkers passed out naked on his roof this morning - he’d got used to that kinda stuff in crazy old Chicago. No, it wasn't that, it was that everyone had been acting strange around him for a little while now, and today it seemed to have gotten worse.

First he’d tried his brother VincenzoLococo’s place. He tended to be around at this sort of time, but today he got no answer at the door. He could have sworn he saw the curtain ripple a little though, perhaps he was just imagining it, but perhaps not.

He walked his old route that morning, past the businesses he used to extort and the bars he used to supply. It brought back fond memories of when he’d still been working his way up, proving his worth. But despite seeing so many old faces, no one seemed to say hello or wish him well as they usually would, in fact no one even seemed to make eye contact. For years he’d been loved in the old neighbourhood, but today he felt invisible. He had a sixth sense for these things - probably how he’d come to live so long despite the inherent dangers of his work. Well today his sixth sense was telling him that something was up, but he couldn't put his finger on what exactly. Perhaps he was losing his magic with age, and if he was questioning that then maybe others were too?

Screw it he thought. Time to head back to the Crazy House, and find out what the hell is going on. He walked back to his car, and nodded to his driver - take me home, I’m done with business for today. His driver glanced over to the bodyguard. Their eyes may only have met for a fraction of a second, but Bonkers could tell that something was up.

“I’m so sorry Godfather” said the driver “there seems to be some sort of fault with the car...I just can’t get it to start up.”

“Fine!” replied Bonkers. He glanced up, and saw that they were now outside Riverside Restaurant & Bar. “Right, I’m going for a drink. Come get me when you’re ready” and he stormed off into the joint.

Inside he noticed that the bar didn’t look all that well stocked, so he chatted with the barman a little. “Yeah it’s kind of odd” the barman said to Bonkers “normally Maleficent would have restocked us by now, but I think it’s all still hauled up in the warehouse - something about a special shipment that she’s focused on today...I think she may even have been heading over to yours.” Bonkers pondered this for a little while, he was always informed of any delivery to his home, and this didn’t smell right.

After a couple of hours, his driver finally came in to get him, and drive him home. After a few drinks though, his senses weren’t as sharp as usual. Normally he’d have noticed the unusual number of high value automobiles parked in the roads leading up to his house. Normally he’d have noticed the tense atmosphere inside the car. This evening though Bonkers only noticed how big and bright the moon seemed.

What Bonker’s didn't realise was that this time he’d been left out of the grand plan. This time he was the target. For since the moment he had walked out of his front door today, some of his closest friends and family had begun carrying out a plot that had been weeks in the planning. Even the guards didn’t really know what was going on, but what did they care? They’d made a few bucks extra, and were happy to turn a blind eye to the endless activity in the house that day. The suspicious boxes, the ticking package, the unusual booze delivery and the words that seemed to fill the air that day “revenge, shots, war…”. It could only mean one thing - and they didn’t want to be around to witness it, or deal with the fallout. No doubt they’d be left having to clean up the mess.

The car pulled up onto the drive, and Bonkers climbed out then walked to the door, not even noticing that the twelve or so guards weren’t at their posts. All of the lights were off inside the house, and an eerie silence filled the October air. The door creaked open, and he walked in, switching on the light to his right as he crossed the threshold. “Hello?” Bonkers called out, but at first no one replied...then after a muffled murmur he heard @TsuDohNimh call out “Come into the drawing room”. It wasn’t unusual for Tsu to drop by now and then, but on this occasion something in his voice didn’t seem natural...he sounded….sober...

Bonkers walked forwards, very aware that his bodyguard who would normally walk alongside him seemed to be trailing him by a few paces. He pushed on the door, and it swung open. The bright light dazzled him momentarily before he became aware that there were dozens of people in the room. In less than a second, he realised that he was facing all of the made men of The Loop, not to mention a few familiar faces from other cities - even Mouseycop and Las Vegas were there. Shit. His adrenaline began to pump, and his heart raced. The hairs down the back of his neck stood on end. The silence may have lasted for less than a second, but it felt like an eternity. On the floor he could see his friend Borkers, clearly beaten and in a sorry way he mumbled “I tried to warn you”. Above him stood his brother Vincenzo holding a knife. To his right there was a slight movement, and BANG!

They’d got him. It was all over. His life flashed before his eyes. All those years, all those birthdays.

“Surprise!!!!!!!” The room chorused!

Bonkers was in a state of shock. The noise to his right had simply been a balloon bursting as RosabellaCorti stepped back onto it by mistake. He chuckled, and the chuckle turned into a roaring laugh and a broad grin. How could he have forgotten? Today was his birthday!

“Wow guys, this is incredible, although you did nearly give my fat heart an attack! I guess with my schedule these days I don't think a whole lot about things like birthdays anymore!”

VincenzoLococo stepped forward, and presented Bonkers with a box...at first Bonkers was a little confused, but he peered over the edge and discovered his cake, and what a finely decorated one it was indeed. “You see brother” Vincenzo began “I have slaved away over this cake all day. I only wish that pappa could be here to see us now”. He smiled as he began cutting it with the knife, “...and that’s not all - for we have some gifts”. Vincenzo gestured to his left as Faceman, Tsu, Teo and Maleficent stepped forward. All vying to be the first to give their gift, as if it made any sort of difference.

Faceman began the offerings to their Godfather, pulling the small package out from his trousers...a small neatly wrapped up parcel that is... “now this was tough to get hold of, well - tough for the publisher I had to rough up anyway...but I heard it's the next big thing, so I hope you enjoy it”. Bonkers pulled the wrapping apart,and discovered a copy of The Hobbit. “Only due to be released next year you know!”. Bonkers grinned, he did love to read.

“I’d better give you this while you’re still half sober friend,” called out Tsu, and he pulled out the gun. It was the most beautiful craftmanship Bonkers had ever seen. Changing guns had always been a challenge for Bonkers, he often grew attached to his personal side-arm, but on this occasion he knew he’d have no issues. The look on his face said it all. “Thank you my friends, this is a magnificent piece”.

Next Teo stepped forward to present the axe. “Woah!” exclaimed Bonkers as he lifted it, and swung it around a couple of times. “This’ll be great for busting open those crates of liquor!”

On that note finally Maleficent stepped forwards. “Now Bonkers, I know this stuff has been known to send people a little crazy - but I figured that’d suit you just fine...not to mention we still need to get you back for our last drinking session!” She pulled out a small crystal bottle of The green fairy. Oh god, thought Bonkers...this is not going to end well!

In the background he heard Tsu asking about Maeby. He could see both Tsu and the others looking uneasy, but couldn't figure out why. All he heard was "mix up", "balloons didn't make it", "factory is gone" and "completely blown the fuck up”

And so Bonkers grabbed a slice of cake and cracked into the drink. The party had been fun, but it had also been a wakeup call. Next time he let his guard down could be the last. Next time the gun might actually get used.*