First word: Square. Last word: Alcohol. If this is the last post then the last word is: Square.

First word: Square. Last word: Alcohol. If this is the last post then the last word is: Square.

The singular, short, square structure stored several sorrowful salespeople, slotted into shoddy stockades. The building was among the abandoned businesses that the Great Depression hollowed out, what was formerly a butcher's shop was now a hellish nightmare for the three con-artists that found themselves under the agonizing interrogation of the novice Crew Leader called Shady_Sam. 

Despite the location, no terrible physical harm has befallen the trio of victims that found themselves there. Two men, one woman, all of which work for a local loan shark operation that failed to kick up its due to the Old City District leaders. A grievous error of judgment, one followed by the fact that when the mobsters knocked over their office to collect, the place was dry of cash. 

It's been three days since Sam had them taken to the refrigeration portion of the shop. Bound to immobilization, silenced by gags, they marinated there without food, water or bathroom breaks. Their once previously formal attire was completely ruined by body fluids, and by god. The stench. Their haunted expressions, wild wide eyes that screamed for mercy. The look of absolute desperation where they would sell their souls if they could just have a bite into one last Philly cheese steak. Sam grinned as he strides into the room, giving a nod to the pair of thugs that he hired to watch over them. They were under orders to eat, drink and relieve themselves inside of the compact room. Paid well for it, but by now even they were eagerly ready to move on with their lives. 

"Take off their gags. Let's hear what they have to say." 

Shady_Sam was dressed in casual wear, a simple black jacket with the infamous hood he adores, paired with a plain dress shirt. Supported by brown suspenders with dark pants, he looked like any other bum off the street. No jewelry or accessories to boast about. Just him. 

As the first gag was ripped off, the sobbing instantly started. The victim, no older than Sam himself, started balling his eyes out, uttering absolute nonsense that was befitting of a toddler. In one silent motion, Sam marched on over, withdrew his .38 pistol from the pocket of his jacket, jacked the hammer back and pressed it into the forehead of the weeping accountant. As soon as the cold barrel of the lethal weapon touched him, he fell into a quiet whimper. Sam glared at him, tilting his head so that the soiled sod below him could stare up into his face. 

"Now, the next sounds I want to come from your mouth will be words. Those words better form a sentence that tells me where my money is, understood?" 

The poor man nodded his head so fiercely that Sam was afraid he'd cause the pistol to misfire. Withdrawing his gun and resetting the hammer, he squats down to be eye-level with the accountant, squinting at his chapped lips, ready to make sense of whatever words that were about to come out of his lips. 

"F-F... Fifth Avenue a-and T-Tenth street. B-Bary's Bowling Alley." 

Sam smiles. "Good. O'Neil, Ralphie, keep them here until I come back. We'll see if he's telling the truth." 

Before the babbling boy could start howling again, the thug shoves the gag back into his mouth, fixing it back up while Sam stores away his pistol, heading back outside. He strides up to a nearby telephone booth, slotting in the required coins and rings up his old crew leader, Argyle. One sentence was uttered before he swiftly hangs up to take a pleasant stroll. 

"Fifth Avenue and Tenth Street, Bary's Bowling Alley. The grain alcohol racket."

First word: Alcohol. Last word: Murder. If this is the last post then the last word is: Square.

Alcohol, oh the sweet succulent taste when placed between my lips. I'll sing the song of alcoholics everywhere as I drain the last of the bottle into my mouth, but then, then the phone rings. How he hated that incessant ring, yet he would answer it for he had nothing at all better to do at this moment, except for more drinking, of course. Walking over to where the buzzing was loudest, Argyle fumbled through the dirty room until finally a cord sprung forth into his field of vision.

"A-ha!", fighting and fumbling it into his hands, the handsomely roguish man placed the phone to his ears before jumping ever so slightly due to the cold touch it had. Fuck, he wasn't expecting that. The yelp also made for an awkward beginning to the conversation, but the Shadiest of Samuel didn't seem to mind, with all the screaming that seemed to be picking up on the other side of the phone; they seemed to be having a rather busy day.

"Fifth Avenue and Tenth Street.."

What a long walk, he thought to himself while the rest of the sentence was being said to him. He didn't need the details, just the location, and upon hearing the phone hang up, he grabbed his favorite sweater from off of the bird cage it laid on and gave a quick chirp to the pigeon that sat happily inside. Sadly, the bird never seemed to coo back these days. Argyle kept changing up the food he fed him, but it never seemed to eat and always wanted to just lay there.

"What a silly lazy thing. I'll be back later, my friend."

Tapping the cage once more, he quickly clicked his feet together in a rather impressive half-jump before making his way out the door and over to the bowling alley his good friend Bary had owned for the past couple of years. He wasn't used to walking these days, as being the important man that he were, it usually meant there were plenty of cars willing to drive him around from place to place; but today was different and Argyle did not want to attract attention to himself or any of his associates.

"'Ey you 'ere, yeah you. Got a moment?"

"Me? Nah. I'm busy..."

"Come on now, ye have to have a moment. Just one second I swears. My friend's hurt an' needs your help! Just over here in this alley here, hurry you gotta hurry! It's real bad!"

The boy was small and didn't look like the usual sort who would pull these stunts, but they seemed to be getting younger by the day. Times were hard and even children were getting in on the scamming action, but they weren't fully aware of who they were messing with -- Argyle had practically written the book on this sort of shit. He grinned to himself and walked slowly towards the alley with the young man in tow, before pulling his gun from his trousers and shooting it directly into the air a couple of times like a complete mad man.

"WHAT THE HELL!?"

That's when he realized his mistake. A young kid no older than twelve sitting there in complete fear of the man, he would have ran away but his leg looked to be mangled and twisted with a bicycle sitting a few feet away. Damn. He felt bad, but couldn't help anyways, he had somewhere to be, and so handing both kids a few hundred dollar bills and a story to tell their friends. Walking quickly away from the scene, he was back on track and finally made it to the bowling alley.

It looked like shit, a lot worse than the last time he were here. That's when he realized why Sam had called him, there laid Bary in the middle of one of the alleys, completely nude and with a couple of pins in places where the average person would never be able to fit such a thing -- it was like a crime scene, this was just supposed to be a simple money job, but now it was a murder, too.

"Sam, what happened to Bary?! My beautiful and innocent Bary…”

After hearing the explanation, he sighed. The money was with the new gang down the street; he would have to avenge Bary and retrieve the money. It wouldn't be easy, but Argyle knew just who to call. This was only the first round and they would not get away with this horrible and quite tacky murder.

First word: Murder. Last word: Sign. If this is the last post then the last word is: Square.

First word: Murder. Last word: Sign. If this is the last post then the last word is: Square.

“MURDER! MURDER! MURDER! RING RING RING!”

Chocola heard from her bedroom as she slowly got up, wondering who the crazy was outside of her house. She opened the door to see Argyle there, giving her some strange sort of welcome greeting.

“What is it, why do you have your detective sweater on?”

She asked him, but he just yelled at her to answer her “phone”, so she pretended to pick up an imaginary phone so she’d give him the scoop, and so she learned of Bowling Bary’s fate. Chocola was quite confused why he decided to get her, since she assumed he could handle something like this all by himself. Yet her she was, headed to some gang’s HQ that she had never even heard of or seen before. It must have been new, and they must have been attempting to make some territory claims with their deeds.

Suddenly she realized, she had no idea where the HQ itself was. Realizing she had forgotten to ask and realizing that Argyle either didn’t tell her for the hell of it or because he was trying to hide the fact that he didn’t know, she figured she would have to find out where it was on her own. After going by some local shops and questioning the lovely folks for information, she started to piece together who she was looking for.

It turned out there was a bowling team run by Bary, who could take on anyone in town in a fine match of bowling. They wanted to do more than just bowl though, and slowly, member by member, they succumbed to lives of crime. Bary had tried to intervene and stop them, since he wanted them to become fine men in the bowling community, and because his reputation was being tarnished too. There was no talk of Argyle tarnishing Bary’s reputation though, Chocola wondered how much he had paid them to keep that off the record. They called themselves the Brawling Bowlers, and their emblem was “B.B” in large letters. Chocola now knew what she was to be looking for and was told it was near the bowling alley, so she figured it wouldn’t be too hard to find.  

Indeed, the headquarters was near the bowling alley, only a few streets away so Chocola headed towards it, though from her home it was quite far away. She was wondering to herself why Argyle went all the way to her, and then made her go all the way back yet he didn’t go with her. As she got near what looked like a side entrance, she saw a big sign. It had the large B.B. at the top of it, as did the building,

“If you are reading this you’re an idiot, you’re about to get smacked in the back of the head, you dingus. Why are you still reading this either? Oh, I’ve almost ran out of pai-”

The message cut off there. Little did Chocola know that sign was in fact, not a lying sign.

First word: Sign. Last word: Fire. If this is the last post then the last word is: Square.

Sign? Insane don't see any damn sign. Wonders the hell they are talking about. Searching high and low Insane decides to head down 2nd street damn near blind as a bat.  Now I know there is some damn good roast beef in this area. Insane spots a freeloader holding a cup in hand for any coin he can collect.

"Stand the fuck up now!"   The man reluctantly stands up. He looks fit and was wise enough to stand up.  I ask, "Why don't you get a fucking job man?" The man answers immediately. "I had a job. I served in Iraq and because I am traumatized nobody wants anything to do with me. The VA hospital wait list is very long. My wife died of cancer while serving our country."

I looked the man in the eye. "Thank you for serving." I instructed him to walk with me.

"Hey man, I know there is a great Roast beef sandwich in these parts. By any chance do you know where that would be?" And by the way,  my name is Insane."

The man halts. I detected his concern with me telling I am insane.

"Lets go man, that is my name. By any chance were you in the Marines?'  He responds, "Yes, I worked under General Mad Dog."

I could not help myself. "Semper Fi"

"Now where can we eat and talk over a good roast beef sandwich?"  He answers," Nicks old Original Roast Beef ."  Me and the wife frequent there before we married.'

"Lead the way man."

We arrived at Nicks. This place was exactly how I remembered it to be. We order and while waiting, I get into this mans mind. I listen to his arms length resume he had in the Marines. Impressed with this mans skills, I hand him my card. 

"You don't have to be on the streets man.  I am certain what I got to offer is far better then how you are living now. The choice is yours"

Insane got his attention, so he runs the opportunity to the man in distress. He listens intently. He reaches into his pocket. He pulls out his wallet. He shows me pictures of his father who died in active duty. He then shows me his wife who died while he was serving. Insane inquires to what his specialty was in the Marines.  Impressed with

Insane is feeling this mans pain and loss.

The food arrives. The roast beef was red  like I remembered.

"This meal is on me man and you can rest your head at my place tonight. "

As we were finishing up our meal a loud voice screams "FIRE"

Finishing up we jump out our seats. "Just my fucking luck. A damn FIRE!" *

First word: Fire. Last word: Terrible. If this is the last post then the last word is: Square.

"Fire!" someone shouted, followed by a comment of whom I recognize.

'Insane's Here, cool.' I thought before jerking my head to the direction of the fire.

'You gotta be messing with me right now universe, I am not up to this bullcrud right now, I haven't even made myself comfy on this seat yet and your already giving me this kind of crud and this is my first time too, not making a good impression on me restaurant'

Taking a deep breath, I stood up, coughing a bit cuz of the smoke and started to observe the people around me in the establishment. Some people are running to the exit, flooding the only exit, which by the way, was also the entrance with a bonus of those retro spinny doors, so good luck to us people that's just standing and staring like me and some others here and also the panicking staff.

'Are they gonna go get the extinguisher or some fancy flame proof shizz to stop it or what?'

Seeing no one trying to put the flame or do anything reasonable as of now, I took the blanket on one of the tables nearby and started to pour the free water they gave me earlier all over the fabric and walked towards the now really huge flame.

'Oh cool, the flame thrower's over there'

"Hey Insane and dudey next to him, the flame thrower's just over there, get it quick before the fire reaches it" I shouted over to them, also pointing at it's direction before I threw the barely even wet table cloth onto the fire. A confused grumble was heard behind me, followed after by running feet.

'Well that was smart, should've just started bashing the fire instead.'

I started to look around once again and saw one of the workers.

"Hey mate, you got any more water here or something, while you think, I'll call the fire department and stuff, so hurry up and start thinking" I shouted to the worker as I dialed the fire department.

As I listen to the dial I saw Insane finally spraying the fire with the while stuff inside them fire extinguisher with Dudey, barely even doing anything as the fire continued to eat everything on it's path. After seeing the event unfold before my eyes, the dial finally changed into a woman's voice, asking what's my problem.

"There's a fire at Nick's right now with a lot of people panicking and slowly suffocating from smog n stuff, so can you guys hurry up, it's been like five minutes since this started, so you might be seeing a number of people who are on the verge of death when you arrive here in ten" I coughed after saying this, noticing the slowly increasing smoke density before my eyes with people panicking more and more before ending the call.

'I should've just soggied up my handkerchief and covered my mouth instead of throwing a slightly wet table cloth, fuuuuuuuuuk'

"Okay, what should I do next? Just stand here and die or Actually try to help traffic and have the chance of surviving?" I asked myself, slowly walking towards the door traffic's direction before getting hit on the head.

"Help of course, now go and help me calf these people down" Dudey said to me in a commanding voice. I lolled my head side by side for a bit before taking out the gun from my holsters and shot onto the the floor a meter or two away from the panicking crowd.

"Now you lot, stop pushing against into each other into the spinny doors and start forming 3 files!!! NOW!!!" I did another shot on the same area before, The crowd, in fear as implied by their eyes and body language, started to move and slowly, the crowd started to lessen. Halfway through the whole crowd, the wailing of sirens started to pierced through the air, mixed with the sounds of people coughing.

"If this restaurant asks for reviews from me, I'll give them a Terrible on everything they ask a rating for" I told Dudey before Firemen started to flood in, assisting everyone still left inside and putting out the fire.

"Terrible."

First word: Terrible. Last word: Hands. If this is the last post then the last word is: Square.

Terrible was one word to describe it, but the sore on his leg wasn't going to get better without a whole lot of scratching. Using his favorite pair of socks, he secured them over his fingers and went to town on the large blue splotch before eventually something popped; out of fear he quickly pushed down his pants leg and pretended nothing was oozing. This is when he remembered what it was he was doing, talking to the dirty police officer who he had secured to head of detail on the Bary shooting.

"Poor Bary, he's gone too soon. Only 87 years young...", the officer wasn't sure how to respond to Argyle, but his loud sigh gave away a bit of his position on the subject. No matter, only a few minutes later a young woman would burst onto the scene and yell something about a fire at the local diner which caused everyone to rush out of the business. A couple of his members had mentioned how they would be spending some time there; he had hoped they would make it out okay.

Suddenly he was jolted to the realization that Chocola had gone scouting for the headquarters of the local gang, but that was of no matter right now. He was sure that her cat-like reflexes would get her out of the jam, for now his attention was on that of the fire, and so he quickly worked his way out of the bowling alley and over to what looked to be a gigantic grotesque maddening... he was running out of adjectives, but you get the idea; it was an extremely intimidating looking fire.

"Important person here! Make way! I'm important! Everyone move along!"

Pushing through the crowd he noticed that the building was almost burnt to a crisp, but luckily he noticed both of his members standing on the side of the road, they seemed to be slightly annoyed but no worse for wear. That's when he saw two of the members from the Brawling Bowlers gang standing beside Insane and Equintesce, this was the perfect time -- springing into action like some sort of action hero, Argyle quickly shouted out to the two who ran away quicker than, something, uh, something rather fast.

Cheetah! Perfect, they ran like cheetahs, but Argyle was a spry gazelle and what he lacked in distance running he made up for in the fact that he could go the same slow speed for hours if needed. One might call it a superpower, but it was simply being out of shape. They looked to be slowing down, any second now, he thought to himself; there's no way they could keep this up for much longer.

"Stop! Just stop!"

He shouted out to no avail before running into what looked to be two rather burly men playing checkers on the side of the road, accidentally pushing over their entire table he had to continue the chase lest they escape.

"Who da fu..."

"SORRY!"

Throwing a few dollars behind him to make up for any emotional damages, his eyes stayed zoomed into the two gangsters who knew everything he needed to know. If only they would just, aha! Finally in unison they both ran into the same rather large brick wall which had popped out of seemingly nowhere, as if the story demanded a break in the action.

Making his way over to the two panting felons, he slammed his fist against his palm a few times for added effect before looking square into both of their eyes. This was it, he had to figure everything out and fast, time was ticking. Opening his mouth, Argyle posed the most important question to him at this very moment.

"Hey guys, would you say I have small hands?"

First word: Hands. Last word: Revenge. If this is the last post then the last word is: Square.

"Hands are nice, man... just don't... look man, we quit with those people, man, man just look, I'm not even a Bowler anymore, man. Me and Monty over here, man, we're reformed as FUCK, man!" The guy twitched after every word and looked over to his friend for confidence, or perhaps as some secret language the two had between each other? It was freaking Argyle out at the very least, and so he decided now was the time to do something about the whole ordeal before things got messy.

Placing his hand into the nicely knitted pocket within the confines of his coat, he made a gun with his fingers and pushed it outward so the goons would notice. Both of them backed up slightly, until eventually they pressed up all the way against the wall to the point where they couldn't go any further even if they wanted to -- and trust me, they wanted to.

"Spread your arms up against the wall and don't say another fucking word... man."

They both complied, the twitchy one making a bit of a scene before finally listening. Chocola was out there and she was with those very fiends who thought it okay to take out Bary, if they could kill such a sweet innocent man, then what else were they capable of? Argyle didn't want to think about it and so he got back to working on the two men.

"Who's the one who took out Bary?"

"That... that old fucker? Man. Man he practically did it himself, man. He wouldn't listen, man. All we..."

"Let your friend speak, I've heard enough from you."

"Man! Chad can't, he can't speak, man."

"I thought his name was Monty?"

"What the... what the heck, man. I can't, like, man, I can't keep track of everyone's names, man. What's the difference, man?"

Peculiar was the only word that came to mind in the midst of these events, so Argyle had a bit of investigating to do. He walked over to the man who went by the name of Monty and Chad at the same time, and pressed his hands up against his back, applying as much pressure as possible to the point where a normal person would have to make a sound, but nothing at all, just an expressionless face and nary a whimper. That's when Argyle decided to look further into this Chad, only to find out that it wasn't a living being at all, but rather a corpse with string attached from him to the other guy.

Before he could even think about how screwed the entire situation was, the twitchy fella ran off, this time dragging the second body behind him; not even pretending it was alive anymore. Argyle sighed and decided to take action a less amusing way this time, pulling his pistol from his pants he let a single bullet out of the chamber and directly into the skull of the lying bastard.

There were too many questions and he decided to leave them all unanswered. A quick stroll to the Bowling Brawlers headquarters would be a lot easier than this entire charade and less time consuming, too. After all, even with all of that running, he had only really gone three streets away from the bowling alley.

All sorts of thoughts raced through his mind as he pushed away the warning sign and walked over to the imposing doors of what looked to be a rather poorly made Castle, it offended him to a point, but he would push on. Imitation is, of course, the biggest form of flattery there was; besides he had no time to worry about that, he had come here for one thing and one thing only, revenge.

He was too slow, he had failed. Chocola died.

The End.